Shopaholic Takes Manhattan
Page 52
Plus, everyone is so nice all the time. The hotel staff smile whenever they see you — and when you say “thank you,” they reply, “you’re welcome,” which they would never do in Britain, just kind of grunt. To my amazement, I’ve already been sent a lovely bouquet of flowers and an invitation to lunch from Luke’s mother, Elinor, and another bouquet from the TV people I’m meeting on Wednesday, and a basket of fruit from someone I’ve never heard of but who is apparently “desperate” to meet me!
I mean, when did Zelda from Morning Coffee last send me a basket of fruit?
I take a sip of coffee, and smile blissfully at Luke. We’re sitting in the restaurant finishing breakfast before he whizzes off for a meeting, and I’m just deciding what to do with my time. I haven’t got any interviews for a couple of days — so it’s completely up to me whether I take in a few museums, or stroll in Central Park… or… pop into a shop or two…
“Would you like a refill?” comes a voice at my ear, and I look up to see a smiling waiter offering me a coffeepot. You see what I mean? They’ve been offering us endless coffee since we sat down, and when I asked for an orange juice they brought me a huge glass, all garnished with frosted orange peel. And as for those scrummy pancakes I’ve just polished off… I mean, pancakes for breakfast. It’s pure genius, isn’t it?
“So — I guess you’ll be going to the gym?” says Luke, as he folds up his copy of the Daily Telegraph. He reads all the papers every day, American and British. Which is quite good, because it means I can still read my Daily World horoscope.
“The gym?” I say puzzledly.
“I thought that was going to be your routine,” he says, reaching for the FT. “A workout every morning.”
And I’m about to say, “Don’t be ridiculous!”—when it occurs to me that I might have rashly announced something along those lines last night. After that second martini.
Still — that’s OK. I can go to the gym. In fact, it would be good to go to the gym. And then I could… well, I could always take in a few sights, I suppose. Maybe look at a few famous buildings.
You know, I’m sure I read somewhere that Bloomingdale’s is quite an admired piece of architecture.
“And then what will you do?”
“I don’t know,” I say vaguely, watching as a waiter puts a plate of French toast down on the table next to ours. God, that looks delicious. Why don’t we have stuff like this in Europe? “Go and explore New York, I guess.”
“I was asking at reception — and there’s a guided walking tour which leaves from the hotel at eleven. The concierge highly recommended it.”
“Oh right,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “Well, I suppose I could do that…”
“Unless you wanted to get any shopping out of the way?” Luke adds, reaching for the Times, and I stare at him slightly incredulously. You don’t “get shopping out of the way.” You get other things out of the way.
Which, in fact, makes me think. Maybe I should do this tour — and then I’ve got sightseeing ticked off.
“The guided tour sounds good,” I say. “In fact, it’ll be a great way to get to know my new home city. The Statue of Liberty, Central Park…”
“Don’t go to Central Park,” puts in Luke.
“Why not? Is it dangerous?”
“It can be, but that’s not why.” Luke looks up with that serious, affectionate expression of his. “The truth is, I’d love to introduce it to you myself. It’s one of my favorite places in the world.”
“OK.” I smile at him, feeling touched. “I won’t go to Central Park.”
As he shakes open the Times I look at him more carefully. His jaw is set and he doesn’t quite have his usual confident demeanor. In fact he looks… nervous, I realize in surprise.
“Feeling all right?” I say encouragingly. “All set for your meeting? Who’s it with, anyway?”
“Mason Forbes Stockbrokers,” says Luke. “One of the companies I’m very much hoping to sign up as a client.”
“Excellent! Well, I’m sure it’ll go brilliantly.”
“I hope so.” He’s silent for a moment. “It’s all been talk up to now. Talk and plans and promises. But now I need to start getting a few results. A few signatures on the line.”
“You’ll get your signatures!” Confidently, I pick up The Daily World. “Just listen to your horoscope: ‘A day for doing deals and winning hearts. If you have faith in yourself, others will too. You are beginning a streak of success.’ ” I look up. “You see? It’s in your stars!”
I mean, when did Zelda from Morning Coffee last send me a basket of fruit?
I take a sip of coffee, and smile blissfully at Luke. We’re sitting in the restaurant finishing breakfast before he whizzes off for a meeting, and I’m just deciding what to do with my time. I haven’t got any interviews for a couple of days — so it’s completely up to me whether I take in a few museums, or stroll in Central Park… or… pop into a shop or two…
“Would you like a refill?” comes a voice at my ear, and I look up to see a smiling waiter offering me a coffeepot. You see what I mean? They’ve been offering us endless coffee since we sat down, and when I asked for an orange juice they brought me a huge glass, all garnished with frosted orange peel. And as for those scrummy pancakes I’ve just polished off… I mean, pancakes for breakfast. It’s pure genius, isn’t it?
“So — I guess you’ll be going to the gym?” says Luke, as he folds up his copy of the Daily Telegraph. He reads all the papers every day, American and British. Which is quite good, because it means I can still read my Daily World horoscope.
“The gym?” I say puzzledly.
“I thought that was going to be your routine,” he says, reaching for the FT. “A workout every morning.”
And I’m about to say, “Don’t be ridiculous!”—when it occurs to me that I might have rashly announced something along those lines last night. After that second martini.
Still — that’s OK. I can go to the gym. In fact, it would be good to go to the gym. And then I could… well, I could always take in a few sights, I suppose. Maybe look at a few famous buildings.
You know, I’m sure I read somewhere that Bloomingdale’s is quite an admired piece of architecture.
“And then what will you do?”
“I don’t know,” I say vaguely, watching as a waiter puts a plate of French toast down on the table next to ours. God, that looks delicious. Why don’t we have stuff like this in Europe? “Go and explore New York, I guess.”
“I was asking at reception — and there’s a guided walking tour which leaves from the hotel at eleven. The concierge highly recommended it.”
“Oh right,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “Well, I suppose I could do that…”
“Unless you wanted to get any shopping out of the way?” Luke adds, reaching for the Times, and I stare at him slightly incredulously. You don’t “get shopping out of the way.” You get other things out of the way.
Which, in fact, makes me think. Maybe I should do this tour — and then I’ve got sightseeing ticked off.
“The guided tour sounds good,” I say. “In fact, it’ll be a great way to get to know my new home city. The Statue of Liberty, Central Park…”
“Don’t go to Central Park,” puts in Luke.
“Why not? Is it dangerous?”
“It can be, but that’s not why.” Luke looks up with that serious, affectionate expression of his. “The truth is, I’d love to introduce it to you myself. It’s one of my favorite places in the world.”
“OK.” I smile at him, feeling touched. “I won’t go to Central Park.”
As he shakes open the Times I look at him more carefully. His jaw is set and he doesn’t quite have his usual confident demeanor. In fact he looks… nervous, I realize in surprise.
“Feeling all right?” I say encouragingly. “All set for your meeting? Who’s it with, anyway?”
“Mason Forbes Stockbrokers,” says Luke. “One of the companies I’m very much hoping to sign up as a client.”
“Excellent! Well, I’m sure it’ll go brilliantly.”
“I hope so.” He’s silent for a moment. “It’s all been talk up to now. Talk and plans and promises. But now I need to start getting a few results. A few signatures on the line.”
“You’ll get your signatures!” Confidently, I pick up The Daily World. “Just listen to your horoscope: ‘A day for doing deals and winning hearts. If you have faith in yourself, others will too. You are beginning a streak of success.’ ” I look up. “You see? It’s in your stars!”
