She has declined to tell me her name, so I have to think of her as her web sobriquet.
This is how I find myself waiting for "Sophia Loren".
Dust, also known as "Cyber Dust" as per the slightly dated demo video above (the design has since been updated), offers "heavily" encrypted messaging not accessible by anyone.
All messages and content sent via the services are automatically turned into "dust" after 24 hours.
She seems rather on edge and sends me a text message at the time we're due to meet asking why I'm using the website.
I reply, telling her to come over and ask me face to face. She looks furtively around and asks me if I'm nervous. There is tension in the air like North and South Korea coming together to hammer out a treaty.
It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much.
They are allowed to sign up for free as a way of ensuring the numbers are balanced between the sexes.
I register, and enter the murky world of two-timing technology, taking note of the warning on the site: "Not all affairs have a positive effect on a marriage." What a masterpiece of understatement.
Reading it on my laptop in the aptly named Cafe Affaire in central London, I consider what she really wants: a no-strings-attached sexual relationship.
What I don't know is how her husband will feel about it. Aside from the little matter of her marital status, she also believes I have a wife, but she doesn't care.