Yes, he was a French carpenter with a large moustache, and I was the former owner of two TV companies (which had gone bust), but I knew we could make this work.
Pascal’s usually soft, chocolate-brown eyes flashed with inky-black rage. ‘No woman talk to me like zat!’ he spat before stalking out.
The room momentarily fell silent. Merde! I thought to myself.
Merde! indeed. No, the above isn't a parody
.. Apologies for the link but I couldn't resist