Home > Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)(38)

Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)(38)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

“Well, she’s getting what she deserves now.” Sage’s eyes narrow. “Did you hear about this sports film she’s doing? Nightmare. Ten million over budget, and the director walked out. Everyone hates her. She’s gonna go down.” Her phone bleeps and she squints at it. “Oh. I have to go. You guys finish up without me.”

“You have to go?” Luke stares at her. “We’ve only just started!”

“Sage, hon.” Aran sighs again. “We cleared your schedule for this. We want to hear what Luke has to say.”

“I have to go,” she repeats, shrugging. “I forgot I have a class at Golden Peace.”

“Well, cancel it.”

“I’m not going to cancel it!” she retorts, as though he’s crazy. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” I can see Aran and Luke exchanging frustrated looks as she picks up her bag, but I’m more interested in the fact that she’s going to Golden Peace.

“So, do you go to Golden Peace a lot?” I ask casually.

“Oh, all the time. It’s amazing. You should go.”

“Actually, I’m planning to,” I hear myself saying. “I’ll see you there!”

“You’re going to Golden Peace, Becky?” says Luke, deadpan. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes.” I avoid his quizzical gaze. “I’m going to sign up for some classes.”

“Oh, do it!” says Sage earnestly. “That place is great. I have, like, huge self-esteem issues, and they’ve really worked on them. I have self-assertion issues, too, self-acceptance issues … I’m battling some pretty big stuff.” She flicks back her hair. “How about you?”

“Me too,” I say hastily. “I’m battling some big stuff too. I have … er … spending issues. I want to work on those.”

I hear a snort from Luke’s direction, which I choose to ignore.

Sage nods. “They have a good program for that. It’s just a great place for getting your shit together. I mean, what good is all of this if we don’t love ourselves, right?” She spreads her arms wide. “And how can we love ourselves if we don’t get ourselves?”

“Exactly.” I nod too. “That’s exactly what I’ve always thought.”

“Great. Well, see you there. We could have coffee?”

“Love to,” I say as carelessly as possible.

“This is my new cell number.…” She reaches for my phone and punches in a number. “Text me back, then I’ll have yours.”

Oh my God! I want to pinch myself. I’m making a date for coffee with Sage! Finally I have something to tell Mum and Suze!

As soon as Sage has left, I hurry into the house and call Suze.

“Hey, Suze!” I blurt out as soon as she answers. “Guess what?”

“No, you guess what!” she replies, her voice bubbling over with excitement. “We’re coming to L.A.! I’ve swung it with Tarkie. He’s going to have a meeting with his investment people out there. I said to him, ‘It’s irresponsible to have investments in the States and not even know what they are.’ So at last he agreed. And he really needs a break.” She sighs. “He’s still devastated about The Surge. Did you see the newspaper write-ups?”

“A couple.” I wince.

“His father keeps sending him newspaper clippings and saying he’s disgraced the Cleath-Stuart name.”

“No!” I say in horror.

“Poor Tarkie feels like such a failure. And the stupid thing is, the fountain works now. It’s a brilliant tourist attraction. But everyone just remembers the launch going wrong.”

“Well, come out to L.A. as soon as you can,” I say firmly. “We’ll walk on the beach and forget all about it, and Tarkie will cheer up.”

“Exactly. I’m looking into flights right now. I’ve told the school we’re taking the children on an educational sabbatical. L.A. is educational, right?”

“Definitely! So how long are you coming for?”

“I don’t know,” says Suze. “At least a month, maybe more. Tarkie needs some serious time off. A week won’t do it. Oh, what was your news?” she adds as an afterthought.

“Nothing much,” I say casually. “Just that I met Sage Seymour and we really got on and we’re going to have coffee at Golden Peace.”

Ha!

“Oh my God!” Suze’s voice blasts me away. “Come on, spill! What was she like? What was she wearing? What did—hang on,” she interrupts herself. “Did you say Golden Peace?”

“Yes.” I try to sound nonchalant.

“The rehab place?”

“Yes.”

“Started by Alicia Bitch Long-legs’s husband?”

“Yes.”

“Bex, are you insane? Why are you going there?”

“To … um … to go on the spending-addiction program.”

“What?” She actually splutters down the phone.

“I want to work on my issues.” I clear my throat. “I have some big stuff to sort out.”

Somehow when I say it to Suze it doesn’t sound as convincing as it did before.

“No, you don’t!” she says in derision. “You just want to hang out with Sage Seymour and all the celebrities!”

“Well, so what if I do?” I say defensively.

“But they’re all weird,” she says, sounding unhappy. “Bex, don’t get weird on me, please.”

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