Alan was handsome enough to be called beautiful: dark wavy hair sweeping back; naturally athletic body, skin maintained by Georgette Klinger. He was the first man I know who had facials regularly at the beginning each season. He was on the rebound from an affair with Joseph Iaccobucci when we met. I was not, however, invited to dine on his famous fuck-chicken. This was a meal designed for seduction, leaving the guest appetized and ready for the main course: Alan. He served it quite often.
We dated for a while and spent a week together in St Martin, idyllic if not particularly serious. Being in real estate, he was more interested in the Hampton's Crowd and had a mentor our there.
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