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| Celine Dion, singer |
A Very Precise Plan |
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I continued to go to sleep with [my manager] René's photo pressed to my cheek, against my neck. I wore out several of them . . . I was a real woman, had become a woman, I'd be eighteen soon, and I wanted René to take me in his arms, to kiss me, to make love to me. For real.
René had a lot of experience, but at the time, he acted like a scared adolescent, a hundred times more intimidated than he would have been in front of woman his own age. He was afraid of what people would say, afraid to hurt me, afraid that at thirty I'd find myself with a man of fifty-six.
But I knew I had him. And bided my time. Finally it came.
It was in Dublin, on that unforgettable day of April 30, 1988, the evening of the Eurovision competition . . . He went back to my room with me . . . I was seated at the head of the bed, legs folded under the covers. I was happy about being alone with the man I loved. And I had a very precise plan.
I took his head in my hands and I kissed him on the lips. I put my arms around his neck . . . He held me tight, the door still open behind him. Then he removed my arms. He fled to his room. I stayed there for a moment all alone, my heart beating — trembling and dumbfounded. I knew that I'd won. The flight was an admission of it.
I grabbed the telephone and called his room to tell him: "If you don't come back here immediately, I'm going to knock on your door." But there was no answer.
It was he who called me several minutes later from the lobby of the hotel. To ask if I was all right. And then he told me: "If you really want to, I'll be the first." And I answered him: "You'll be the first. And the only."
All my feminine charms, all the sex appeal I have for men I invested in my conquest of René Angélil.
from My Story, My Dream, by Celine Dion (Toronto: HarperCollins, © 2000)
© 2001 Nerve.com, Inc.
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