Sophie Kinsella Shopaholic

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.But I don't.Of course I don't.I say, 'Hi Tarquin,' and give him a dazzling smile.'Hi, Becky,' he says.'You look wonderful.''Thanks,' I say, and look bashfully down at my dress.'D'you want to stay for a titchy?' says Suze, who is looking on fondly as if she's my mother and thisis senior prom night" and I'm dating the most popular boy in school.'Ermm& no, I think we'll just get going,' says Tarquin, meeting my eye.'What do you think, Becky?''Absolutely,' I say.'Let's go.'FourteenA taxi is chugging outside in the road, and Tarquin ushers me inside.To be honest, I'm a bitdisappointed it isn't a chauffeur-driven limousine but still.This is pretty good, too.Being whisked offin a taxi by one of Britain's most eligible bachelors to& "who knows where? The Savoy? Claridges?Dancing at Annabel's?http://www.fictionbook.ru/author/kinsella_sophie/the_secret_dreamworld_of_a_shopaholi.3/16/2006The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic Page 85 of 140Tarquin hasn't told me yet where we're going.Oh God, maybe it'll be one of those mad places whereeverything is served under a silver dome and there's a million knives and forks and snooty waiterslooking on, just waiting to catch you out.But that's OK.As long as I don't panic.Just keep calm andremember the rules.Right.What are they, again? Cutlery: start from the outside and work your way in.Bread: do not slice your bread roll but break into little bits and butter each one individually.Tomatoketchup: do not ask for under any circumstances.What if it's lobster? I've never eaten a lobster in my life.Shit.It's going to be lobster, isn't it? And Iwon't know what to do and it'll be hideously embarrassing.Why haven't I ever eaten lobster? Why? It'sall my parents' fault.They should have taken me to expensive restaurants from an early age so I woulddevelop a nonchalant savoir-faire with tricky food.'I thought we'd just have a nice quiet supper,' says Tarquin, looking over at me.'Lovely,' I say.'Nice quiet supper.Perfect.'Thank God.That probably means we're not heading for lobster and silver domes.We're going to sometiny tucked-away place that hardly anyone knows about.Some little private club where you have toknock on an anonymous-looking door in a back street, and you get inside and it's packed with celebritiessitting on sofas, behaving like normal people.Yes! And maybe Tarquin knows them all!But of course he knows them all.He's a multimillionaire, isn't he?I look out of the window and see that we're driving past Harrods.And for just a moment, my stomachtightens painfully as I remember the last time I was here.Bloody suitcases.Bloody Luke Brandon.Huh.In fact, I wish he was walking along the road right now, so I could give him a careless, I'm-with-the-fifteenth-richest-man-in-Britain wave.'OK,' says Tarquin suddenly to the taxi driver.'You can drop us here.' He grins at me.'Practically onthe doorstep.''Great,' I say, and reach for the door.Practically on the doorstep of where? As I get out I look around, wondering where on earth we'regoing.We're at Hyde Park Corner.What's at Hyde Park Corner? I turn round slowly, and glimpse a sign and suddenly I realize what's going on.We're going to the Lanesborough!Wow.How classy is that? Dinner at the Lanesborough.But naturally.Where else would one go on afirst date?'So,' says Tarquin, appearing at my side.'I just thought we could get a bite to eat and then& see.''Sounds good,' I say, as we start walking.Excellent! Dinner at the Lanesborough and then on to some glam nightclub.This is all shaping upwonderfully.We walk straight past the entrance to the Lanesborough, but I'm not fazed by that.Everyone knowsVIPs always go in through the back to avoid the paparazzi.Not that I can actually see any paparazzi butit probably becomes a habit.We'll duck into some back alley, and walk through the kitchens while thechefs pretend they can't see us, and then emerge in the foyer.This is so cool.'I'm sure you've been here before,' says Tarquin apologetically.'Not the most original choice.''Don't be silly!' I say, as we stop and head towards a pair of glass doors.'I simply adore& 'Hang on, where are we? This isn't the back entrance to anywhere.This is&Pizza on the Park.Tarquin's taking me to Pizza Express.I don't believe it.The fifteenth-richest man in the country istaking me to bloody Pizza Express.'& pizza,' I finish weakly.'Love the stuff.''Oh good!' says Tarquin.'I thought we probably didn't want anywhere too flashy.''Oh no.' I pull what I think is a very convincing face.'I hate flashy places.Much better to have a nice quiet pizza together.''That's what I thought,' says Tarquin, turning to look at me.'But now I feel rather bad.You've dressedup so nicely& ' He pauses doubtfully, gazing at my outfit.(As well he might.I didn't go and spend afortune in Whistles just to be taken to Pizza Express.) 'I mean, if you wanted to, we could go somewherea bit smarter.The Lanesborough's just around the corner& 'http://www.fictionbook [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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