Prue Leith’s affair revalation prompts Samantha Brick to dicuss an affair with her boss

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Celebrity cook Prue Leith recently said that her affair helped her career
Samantha Brick discusses her own affair with her boss
Felt it furthered her career but success didn't make her as happy as love

Published: 18:34 EST, 30 September 2015 | Updated: 23:58 EST, 30 September 2015

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The setting for our first date was exquisite. We were shown to our table and seated opposite each other inside a booth at an expensive private members' club in Soho.

I can still hear the clink of my champagne flute as it tapped against the tumbler in the hands of the extremely handsome man opposite me.

The lighting was subtle, affording us some much-needed privacy. Perhaps that explains why I allowed my stockinged foot to escape my shoe, idly snaking it suggestively along his leg. Stunned, he looked at me with what I can only describe as absolute longing. Taking one of my hands, he pulled me towards him and whispered: 'Let's go back to your place.' I drained my glass within seconds.

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Samantha Brick's affair started when she was 21 with her boss. He was married (stock photo)

To the outside world as we walked hand-in-hand along the narrow London streets, we'd have looked the absolute picture of a couple in love.

Yet the tawdry truth was somewhat different. This man wasn't my boyfriend. He was very much married and, sadly, much as I would have wanted it more than anything else in the world, I wasn't his wife.

More than that, this man was my boss. Someone with contacts and experience in the world of TV in which I was desperate to gain a foothold and climb.

Memories of that relationship in my early 20s flooded back when I read celebrity cook Prue Leith's confession to the Henley Literary Festival week that her own 'part-time' affair with a married man had allowed her to launch a successful career.

The celebrity cook and food-school owner said her 13-year relationship with South African writer Rayne Kruger helped her to make her fortune as it had allowed her to feel loved - but also gave her time to concentrate on her business without the demands of being a housewife.

The 75-year-old revealed that Kruger, whom she later married, would disappear home each evening which gave her time to pour all of her efforts into her work as she did not have to worry about cooking a meal each night or look after children.

My own five-year affair paid similar dividends for me. As my colleagues concentrated on finding husbands and starting families, I was free to network or catch up on projects while my lover was with his wife.

My career went from strength to strength. Within five years I went from a junior researcher to assistant producer at my TV production company. And, yes, for a while, I was like the cat who got the cream.

Samantha, above, says success or money can never make a woman as happy as love

Here I was, a lithe young blonde with a secret headstart on my colleagues. This handsome, powerful man had chosen me over all of them. What's more, the fact that he could only see me when family commitments allowed, meant I could focus any extra energies on work.

But I was too young to understand one universal truth: success or money can never make a woman as happy as love.

And, while Prue's man went on to marry her, I suspect my experience is far more common; my lover did not make an honest woman of me. Instead, he stole the best years of my life and, quite possibly, my chance to have children of my own. So yes, he enabled me to enjoy some significant career success. But at what price?

Looking back at that time 20-odd years on, I feel desperately ashamed that I ever begged a man to leave his wife. Of course, it was to no avail.

This meant that, while my university friends were marrying and settling down with available and loving chaps, I was left with the scraps of a chronically unsatisfying 'relationship' - if our irregular liaisons deserve that name.

While I love my husband Pascal, whom I met when I was 36, it is bittersweet to consider that had I met and fallen in love with someone who was available during those years I was playing second fiddle, perhaps I might have married earlier and become a mother, too.

Now aged 44, with several rounds of failed IVF treatment behind me, I accept I will never have a child of my own. But I often curse my ambitious younger self for the situation in which I now find myself.

And for any woman considering having an affair to get on in the workplace, I would tell her all the things that Prue Leith has left out of her glamorous reminiscences.

When you are having an affair with a married man, there are countless moments where you feel utterly worthless and ask yourself 'what the heck am I doing?'

The sleazy afternoon sex in hotel rooms, the lies you tell to your family about why your boyfriend can't come to stay for the weekend, the frankly implausible - not to mention insulting - excuses he invents to explain who you are if he bumps into someone he knows when you're out together.

My affair started when I was a naïve, 21-year-old girl new to working life in London. The affair finished when I was a wiser, some might say jaded, 26-year-old. And instead of being left with a box full of romantic mementoes, all I took away was a deep distrust of men, which took me a decade to recover from.

But who thinks such profound thoughts when they've just graduated from university and are mad keen to slam their stilettoed heel onto the first rung of their career ladder? I know I certainly didn't.

I was a television researcher and he was my boss - it is the Bridget Jones and Daniel Cleaver scenario to a tee. Far from having a reputation as a philanderer, he treated me kindly, taking me under his wing.

While colleagues and girlfriends would head to the bar after work, I never did. I always found an excuse to hang around the office, helping him out, chatting on our own together.

The celebrity cook and food-school owner Prue Leigh, pictured above in 1969, said her 13-year relationship with South African writer Rayne Kruger helped her to make her fortune as it had allowed her to feel loved

Did I harbour fanciful intentions from the start? No, I can truthfully say I didn't. Instead I was enthusiastic and focused on furthering my career. If he was happy to offer advice I was more than keen to take it. He wore his wedding ring, and always came across as a committed husband.

Within months we'd graduated to chatting over a drink at a nearby bar on the way home. I can't really recall the moment I realised I had developed intense feelings for him.

I was dazzled by his worldliness. He was ten years older than me and clearly in possession of a degree from the Bill Clinton school of charm. He knew what he was doing in life, where he was going and wasn't immature like so many of my male friends.

In the office we kept our flirtations - because that's what they were by now - in check. Yet it was at home I talked about him non-stop. My flatmate adored teasing me.

Prue Leith in 2012. Samantha Brick believes Prue left some details out of her glamorous reminiscences

When she asked if I fancied him, I dismissed this as ridiculous. But I knew - as well as she did - that I'd developed romantic feelings for him.

Perhaps inevitably, six months after working together, I saw my chance at the office summer party. I even kept off the booze that everyone else downed with fervour. We sat at the same table, yet by unspoken agreement didn't talk to each other. Even so, my pulse quickened whenever he passed by.

It didn't surprise me before the end of the evening that, in a quiet corner and out of earshot of anyone else, he revealed his feelings for me.

There are rules you follow when you become a mistress. During our first year together any acknowledgement of each other was off limits. Instead we would meet when his life allowed us to do so

We kissed that evening. Instead of brushing it off as a daft office party moment, I was hooked. Did I think about his wife? Of course. But I was arguably too young and lacking in the wisdom and integrity that comes with putting yourself in someone else's shoes.

I didn't even ponder about the hurt it would cause her if she found out. My rationale was that if her husband was cheating on her, that had nothing to do with me.

Frustratingly, it took another month for us to arrange a rendezvous at my home. It had to be a night when my flatmate wasn't in, when he could spare an evening without his wife being suspicious. I just put my life on hold until he could find time for us.

Of course, I should say the first time we made love the earth moved - but it didn't. It was rather rapid and perfunctory. He had to return home, leaving zero chance of me falling asleep in his arms, let alone waking up together. Far from feeling special, tawdriness washed over me.

There are rules you follow when you become a mistress. During our first year together any acknowledgement of each other in the office was off limits. Instead we would meet when his life allowed us to do so. After work, in bars well out of the way, or on location filming together.

Still, it wasn't all seedy. As I went off and freelanced, he gave me advice on who to work for, how to negotiate a pay rise, even how to dress in front of male colleagues. While he wasn't in a position to promote or favour me - his advice and wisdom undoubtedly gave my career an ongoing boost.

Samantha and her husband Pascal on holiday together in 2010. They married when she was 36

But, as time went on, I knew what I was doing was wrong. And my greatest regret is my mum finding out. I come from a staunchly working-class home where family is sacrosanct.

By then he and I had been seeing each other for two years. We spent the night in a posh boutique hotel for my birthday. It was the first time we'd stayed together for an entire night. It was funny, romantic and quite simply a heavenly celebration. I soon forgot all those nights I spent on my own.

As a result I'd arrived home later than I'd intended to meet my mum who was staying with me for the weekend. When she saw my overnight bag, she eventually dragged the whole sorry saga out of me. She was unbelievably disappointed.

I had lied to her for the previous two years, which devastated her.

During the third year of our relationship I took stock. I was brilliant at my job - I'd been promoted to assistant producer. Thanks to my lover, I was great at negotiating the finer points of my contract, but when it came to our relationship I was stuck at the back of the class, utterly clueless as to how to move it forward.

He was still very much married and working with women just like myself - young, attractive and very ambitious. Was I jealous? Of course. So, having a wobble, I risked everything by pushing him to go public on 'us'.

He made it crystal clear he didn't want to leave his wife. Infuriated, I didn't see him for several weeks. But, things then restarted. I knew I was accepting second-best status, but went ahead anyway.

I hated myself but couldn't stop. I wanted what was off limits.

During our fourth year together, I was invited to a girlfriend's wedding. We'd lived together while we were at university. She'd even met her future husband there. When I opened the embossed envelope and read 'Samantha Brick plus one' I cringed.

By now I was very much in love with my married man and as much as I would have adored to show him off in public I knew it wouldn't happen.

Quite simply he couldn't - or wouldn't - come with me. As I watched my girlfriend say her vows, I wept pitifully for myself.

Back in the working world, my career was going from strength to strength. At 26 I took the decision to work on location for six months in another part of the country, and with my friend's wedding vows in mind, I ended our affair.

He was hardly devastated - just terrified at what I might reveal. I left the relationship undoubtedly older, wiser but very much alone.

Ironically, some six years later, we met for dinner. We were both single - his marriage had ended a year previously. He said they'd 'grown apart'. And he asked if I would like to try again - this time as a proper couple.

I turned him down flat. Although I realised there would always be that 21-year-old me who would continue to idolise and love him, there was a cynical and world-weary new me that knew I would never be able to trust him.

For if he was unfaithful to his successful, beautiful first wife, there was always the chance he'd cheat on me. I'd finally realised I deserved better.