Confession of a shopaholic – book one of a shopaholic series part 24


MMM.
Bliss.
Lying in the most comfortable bed in the world, feeling all dreamy and smiley and happy, letting the
Morning sunlight play on my closed eyelids. Stretching my arms above my head, then collapsing
Contentedly onto an enormous mound of pillows. Oh, I feel good. I feel. . . sated. Last night was
Absolutely. . .
Well, let’s just say it was. . .
Oh, come on. You don’t need to know that. Anyway, can’t you use your imagination? Of course you
Can.
I open my eyes, sit up, and reach for my cup of room-service coffee. Luke’s in the shower, so it’s just
Me alone with my thoughts. And I don’t want to sound all pretentious here – but I do feel this is a pretty
Significant day in my life.
It’s not just Luke – although the whole thing was. . . well, amazing, actually. God, he really knows how
To. . .
Anyway. Not the point. The point is, it’s not just Luke, and it’s not just my new job with Morning
Coffee (even though every time I remember it, I feel a leap of disbelieving joy).
No, it’s more than that. It’s that I feel like a completely newperson. I feel as though I’m moving on to a
New stage in life – with a different outlook, and different priorities. When I look back at the frivolous way
I used to think – well, it makes me want to laugh, really. The new Rebecca is so much more levelheaded.
So much more responsible. It’s as though the tinted glasses have fallen off – and suddenly I can see
What’s really important in the world and what’s not.
I’ve even been thinking this morning that I might go into politics or something. Luke and I discussed
Politics a bit last night, and I have to say, I came up with lots of interesting views. I could be a young,
Intellectual member of parliament, and be interviewed about lots of important issues on television. I’d
Probably specialize in health, or education, or something like that. Maybe foreign affairs.
Casually I reach for the remote control and switch on the television, thinking I might watch the news. I
Flick a few times, trying to find BBC1, but the TV seems stuck on rubbish cable channels. Eventually I
Give up, leave it on something called QVT or something, and lean back down on my pillows.
The truth, I think, taking a sip

of coffee, is that I’m quite a serious-minded person. That’s probably why
Luke and I get on so well.
Mmm, Luke. Mmm, that’s a nice thought. I wonder where he is.
I sit up in bed, and am just considering going into the bath-room to surprise him, when a woman’s voice
From the television attracts my attention.
“. . . offering genuine NK Malone sunglasses, in tortoiseshell, black, and white, with that distinctive
NKM logo in brushed chrome.”
That’s interesting, I think idly. NK Malone sunglasses. I’ve always quite wanted a pair of those.
“Buy all three pairs. . .” the woman pauses “. . . and pay not £400. Not £300. But £200! A saving of at
Least 40 percent off the recommended retail price.”
I stare at the screen, riveted.
But this is incredible. Incredible. Do you know how much NK Malone sunglasses usually cost? At least
140 quid. Each! Which means you’re saving. . .
“Send no money now,” the woman is saying. “Simply call this number. . .”
Excitedly I scrabble for the notebook on my bedside table and scribble down the number. This is an
Absolute dream come true. NK Malone sunglasses. I can’t quite believe it. And three pairs! I’ll never
Have to buy sunglasses again. People will call me the Girl in the NK Malone Shades.



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Confession of a shopaholic – book one of a shopaholic series part 24