Shopaholic Takes Manhattan
Page 61I dump my stuff on the table and look around the bright, buzzing room at the girls milling about, grabbing at merchandise, trying on scarves, piling their arms full of glossy new gorgeous things. And I feel a sudden warmth, an overwhelming realization. These are my people. I’ve found my homeland.
Several hours later, I arrive back at the Four Seasons, still on a complete high. After the sample sale, I ended up going out for a “welcome to New York” coffee with Jodie. We sat at a marble table, sipping our decaf Frappuccinos and nibbling at nonfat cranberry muffins, and both worked out exactly how much money we’d saved on our bargains ($1,230 in my case!). We agreed to meet up again during my visit — and then Jodie told me all about this amazing Web site that sends you information on these kind of events every day. Every day! I mean, the possibilities are limitless. You could spend your whole life going to sample sales!
You know. In theory.
I go up to our room — and as I open the door I see Luke sitting at the desk, reading through some papers.
“Hi!” I say breathlessly, dumping my bags on the enormous bed. “Listen, I need to use the laptop.”
“Oh right,” says Luke. “Sure.” He picks up the laptop from the desk and hands it to me, and I go and sit on the bed. I open the laptop, consult the piece of paper Jodie gave me, and type in the address.
“So, how was your day?” asks Luke.
“It was great!” I say, tapping the keys impatiently. “I made a new friend, and I saw lots of the city… Ooh, and look in that blue bag! I got you some really nice shirts!”
“Did you start to get a feel for the place?”
“Oh, I think so. I mean, obviously it’s early…” I frown at the screen. “Come on, already.”
“Mmm… not really,” I say absently. Aha! Suddenly the screen is filling up with images. A row of little sweeties at the top — and logos saying, It’s fun. It’s fashion. In New York City. The Daily Candy home page!
I click on “Subscribe” and briskly start to type in my e-mail details, as Luke gets up and comes toward me, a concerned look on his face.
“So tell me, Becky,” he says. “I know it must all seem very strange and daunting to you. I know you couldn’t possibly find your feet in just one day. But on first impressions — do you think you could get used to New York? Do you think you could ever see yourself living here?”
I type the last letter with a flourish, press “Send,” and look at him thoughtfully.
“You know what? I think I probably could.”
HOWSKI AND FORLANO
U.S. Immigration Lawyers
568 E. 56th Street
New York, N.Y. 10016
Flat 2
4 Burney Rd.
London SW6 8FD
UNITED KINGDOM
September 28, 2000
Dear Ms. Bloomwood:
Thank you for your completed U.S. immigration forms. As you know, the authorities will wish to evaluate the assets and unique talents which you can bring to this country.
Under section B69 referring to special abilities, you write, “I’m really good at chemistry, ask anyone at Oxford.” We did in fact contact the vice-chancellor of Oxford University, who failed to display any familiarity with your work.
As did the British Olympic long-jump coach.
With kind regards,
Edgar Forlano
Nine
TWO DAYS LATER, I’m feeling quite dazzled by all the sights and sounds of New York. I’ve walked so many blocks my feet ache, and I’ve really seen some awe-inspiring things. Like, in Bloomingdale’s, they have a chocolate factory! And there’s a whole district full of nothing but shoe shops!
I keep trying to get Luke along to look at all these amazing sights — but he just has meeting after meeting. He’s seeing about twenty people a day — wooing potential clients and networking with media people, and even looking round office spaces in the financial district. As he said yesterday at breakfast, he needs to hit the ground running when he arrives. I was about to make a little joke about “Break a leg!”… but then I decided against it. Luke’s taking everything a bit seriously at the moment.
As well as setting up the new company, he’s had briefings from Alicia in London every morning — and she keeps sending through faxes for him to approve, and needlessly long e-mails. I just know she’s only doing it all to show off to Luke — and the really annoying thing is, it’s working. Like, a couple of clients rang up to complain about things, but when he called Alicia she had already leapt into action and sorted it out. So then I had to hear for fifteen minutes about how marvelous she is, and what a great job she’s doing — and keep nodding my head as though I completely agreed. But I still can’t stand her. She rang up the other morning when Luke was out, and when I picked up, she said “So sorry to disturb your beauty sleep!” in this really patronizing way, and rang off before I could think of a good reply. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">