I open my mouth and close it. I don’t know what to say. “Alex—”

“No, wait.” He lifts a hand. “I haven’t finished. That’s what I want, and I was an idiot to leave, and I should have realized—” He interrupts himself. “Anyway. But I don’t know if I can have you. And that’s why I’m here. To ask you. If you say no, then I’ll go away, but that’s why I’m here. To ask you. I’m repeating myself, aren’t I?” he adds matter-of-factly. “I’m nervous. This isn’t my style. It’s really not my style. Coming back.”

“I know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I…I heard.”

“So, yes, I’m nervous, and, yes, I’m embarrassed right now, but you know what? I’m owning my embarrassment.”

He finishes speaking into utter silence. Clearly everyone in the entire bar has surreptitiously stopped talking to eavesdrop on us. I glance up and catch sight of Demeter listening. Her hand is to her mouth as though in disbelief, and her eyes are a little sheeny.

“I’m owning my embarrassment,” Alex repeats, apparently oblivious to the audience. “Here I am, Alex Astalis, in love with you. Owning that too.”

I’m tingling in shock. Did he just say he was in love with me?

“But of course there are many, many reasons why this might not be a good idea,” he continues before I can reply, “and I wrote most of them down on the plane, just to torture myself.” He produces an airline sick bag with scrawled writing all over it. “And the one I kept coming back to was: All you ever wanted was fun. You told me. That’s what you wanted. And me turning up here like this, it’s not fun. Is it?” He takes a step toward me, his expression so agonized, so questioning, so quintessentially Alex, that I have to fight the urge to throw myself at him. “Is it?” he repeats. “Fun? This?”

“No.” Tears are shimmering in my eyes as I eventually manage to speak. “It’s not fun. It’s…us. It’s whatever we are. And that’s all I ever really wanted too. Not fun. Us.”

“Us.” Alex takes another step toward me. “That sounds good to me.” His voice is a little husky and hesitant. “That sounds…like what I want.”

“Me too.” I honestly can’t speak anymore. My throat is clogged and my nose is prickling. I never did push him out of my heart. How do you push Alex out of your heart?

And I’m frantically telling myself: We’re in a public place, behave with dignity…but then his face is a foot away…six inches away…and I inhale his scent and feel his strong arms around me…and, oh God, I’m lost.

I’m pretty sure that kissing your boss in full public is against protocol. Although…is he my boss right now?

Finally we draw apart, and everyone’s blatantly been watching us. Don’t they have lives? As the hubbub starts up again, I glance over at Demeter and she clasps her hands tightly, blows us both a kiss, then puts a tissue to her eyes, as though she’s my fairy godmother.

“Katie Brenner.” Alex cups my face as though drinking me in. “Katie Brenner. Why did I go to New York when I had you right here?”

“I can’t believe you left me,” I say, nestling into his jacket.

“I can’t believe you didn’t stop me.” He kisses me again, long and deep, and I find myself calculating whether I can take the afternoon off. Special circumstances.

Alex passes me a wineglass and I clink with his and lean against his chest again. And something in me unwinds, something I didn’t even realize was tense. I feel like: At last. At last. At last.

“Katie Brenner,” says Alex again, as though just saying my name makes him happy. “So, let me take you out to dinner tonight. I never take you out to dinner.” He frowns, as though we’re an old married couple. “Where would you like to go?”

“I’ve got Dad and Biddy staying with me at the moment,” I say, a little regretfully, but his face lights up.

“Even better. Family reunion. You do realize I’m only after you for Biddy’s cooking?”

“Oh, I know.” I laugh. “I’m not stupid.”

“So, family supper, then back to mine and…see how it goes? Let’s go somewhere really special.” His eyes are sparking with enthusiasm; I can feel the happiness emanating from him.

“Somewhere really special?” I eye him carefully. “You mean that?”

“Absolutely.” He nods. “Somewhere really, truly, extraordinarily special. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

Is there anywhere I’d like to go?

“Hang on.” I scrabble in my bag. Right at the bottom is my ancient handwritten list of restaurants, the one I’ve been carrying around all this time.

“Any of those.” I point. “That. Or that. Or this one. Or that. Maybe there? Not there. And this one…hmm, not sure…”

Alex is staring at the list, a bit stunned, and I suddenly realize this is probably not how most girls react when they’re asked out to dinner.

“Or anywhere,” I amend hastily, crumpling the list. “I mean, really…you choose. I’m sure you’ve got loads of good ideas—”

“Bollocks I do.” He grins. “You’re the expert; you choose.”

“Oh,” I say, discomfited. “But don’t you want to—I mean, shouldn’t the man—”

“Own it, Katie.” He cuts me off. “Enjoy it. You’re choosing, OK? Over to you, my gorgeous Somerset girl.” He kisses my fingertips and pulls me close again, his voice soft in my ear. “You’re the boss.”


To Nicki Kennedy


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No one’s life is perfect. But mine was made a lot more perfect by the brilliant people who helped me create this book.

Jenny Bond and Sarah Frampton offered me insight and ideas on city life and country life alike. I’m especially grateful to Jenny for her expert help on the corporate world of advertising, marketing, and brands.

Meanwhile, I am constantly in awe of the amazing work of “Team Kinsella” in the UK, the U.S., and around the world. Thank you to everyone who works so hard on my books—and a special thank-you to my agents and publishers in the UK and U.S.:

At LAW: Araminta Whitley, Peta Nightingale, Jennifer Hunt

At Inkwell: Kim Witherspoon, David Forrer

At ILA: Nicki Kennedy, Sam Edenborough, Jenny Robson, Katherine West, Simone Smith

At Transworld: Francesca Best, Bill Scott-Kerr, Larry Finlay, Claire Evans, Nicola Wright, Alice Murphy-Pyle, Becky Short, Tom Chicken and his team, Giulia Giordano, Matt Watterson and his team, Richard Ogle, Kate Samano, Judith Welsh, Jo Williamson, Bradley “Bradmobile” Rose

At Penguin Random House U.S.: Gina Centrello, Susan Kamil, Kara Cesare, Avideh Bashirrad, Debbie Aroff, Jess Bonet, Sanyu Dillon, Sharon Propson, Sally Marvin, Theresa Zoro, Loren Noveck

May your lives always live up to your Instagram posts….


By Sophie Kinsella

Confessions of a Shopaholic

Shopaholic Takes Manhattan

Shopaholic Ties the Knot

Can You Keep a Secret?

Shopaholic & Sister

The Undomestic Goddess

Shopaholic & Baby

Remember Me?

Twenties Girl

Mini Shopaholic

I’ve Got Your Number

Wedding Night

Shopaholic to the Stars

Finding Audrey

Shopaholic to the Rescue

My Not So Perfect Life


About the Author

SOPHIE KINSELLA is the author of the bestselling Shopaholic series, as well as the novels Can You Keep a Secret?, The Undomestic Goddess, Remember Me?, Twenties Girl, I’ve Got Your Number, Wedding Night, and Finding Audrey. She lives in London.

sophiekinsella.com

Facebook.com/​SophieKinsellaOfficial

Twitter: @KinsellaSophie

Instagram: @sophiekinsellawriter


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