Mini Shopaholic
She’s opening her mouth to protest. She can’t backtrack now.
‘Bonnie, please. I really care about Brandon Communications,’ I say with sudden warmth. ‘And it might just be that I can make a difference to things. But I’ll only know that if you keep me in the loop! Otherwise I’m powerless! Luke tries to protect me, but he doesn’t realize he’s shutting me out. Please let me help.’
Bonnie looks taken aback by my little speech, but it’s kind of true – I have felt shut out by Luke, ever since he wouldn’t let me go to the trial. (OK, not trial. Hearing. Whatever it was called.)
‘Well,’ she says at last, ‘I didn’t see it quite like that. Of course, I’d be glad to let you know if I ever think there’s anything you could … contribute.’
‘Fab!’ I beam. ‘And in return, maybe you could do the odd little favour for me?’
‘Of course.’ Bonnie looks as though she can’t quite keep up. ‘I’d be glad to. Did you have anything specific in mind?’
‘Well, yes, actually, I did have one small request.’ I take a sip of cappuccino. ‘It would really, really help me out if you could do it.’
‘To do with the party?’ Bonnie is already getting out her notebook.
‘No, this isn’t to do with the party. It’s more general.’ I lean across the table. ‘Could you tell Luke that a gym is better than a wine cellar?’
Bonnie stares back at me, flummoxed.
‘I’m sorry?’ she says at last.
‘We’re buying this house,’ I explain, ‘and Luke wants a wine cellar in the basement, but I want a gym. So could you persuade him that a gym is a better choice?’
‘Becky,’ Bonnie looks perturbed, ‘I really don’t think this is appropriate …’
‘Please!’ I wheedle. ‘Bonnie, do you realize how much Luke respects your opinion? He listens to you all the time. You can influence him!’
Bonnie seems almost at a loss for words. ‘But … but how on earth would I even bring up the subject?’
‘Easy!’ I say confidently. ‘You could pretend to be reading an article about it and you could casually say how you’d never buy a house that converted the whole basement into a wine cellar and you’d much prefer a gym. And you could say you think wine tastings are really overrated and boring,’ I add.
‘But Becky—’
‘And then we’d really be helping each other out. Girl power.’ I smile at her as winningly as I can. ‘The sisterhood.’
‘Well … I’ll do my best to bring it up in conversation,’ says Bonnie at last. ‘I can’t promise anything, but—’
‘You’re a star! And anything else you want me to do or say to Luke, just text. Anything at all.’ I offer her the plate of chocolate mints. ‘Here’s to us! The Becky and Bonnie team!’
EIGHT
As I walk down the street after lunch, I feel exhilarated. Bonnie’s amazing. She’s the best assistant Luke’s ever had, by a million miles, and we’re going to make a fabulous duo. Plus I’ve already phoned that concierge company she recommended and been put through to their party division. Everything’s going so easily!
Why on earth have I never used a concierge service before? They all seem really pleasant and it’s as though nothing’s too much trouble. We have to become members. According to the disembodied voice that talks while you’re waiting, they can do anything, from getting sold-out theatre tickets, to chartering a plane, to getting someone to bring you a cup of tea in the middle of the Navajo desert.
You know. If you wanted one.
‘Hi!’ A cheery-sounding guy comes on to the line. ‘My name’s Rupert. Harry explained the brief. You’re looking for the ultimate surprise party for your husband.’
‘Yes! With fire-eaters and jugglers and a marquee and a disco.’
‘OK, let’s see.’ He pauses and I can hear the flipping of pages. ‘We recently organized a birthday party for three hundred in a series of Bedouin tents. We had jugglers, fire-eaters, three international buffets, dancing on a star-lit floor, the birthday girl arrived on an elephant, award-winning cameramen to capture the event …’
I’m breathless, just listening to the list.
‘I want that one,’ I say. ‘That exact one. It sounds fab.’
‘Great.’ He laughs. ‘Well, maybe we could meet up, finesse the details, you could look at the rest of our event portfolio …’
‘I’d love to!’ I say joyfully. ‘My name is Becky, I’ll give you my number.’