Shopaholic & Sister by Sophie Kinsella Read Free Book Online

come in. They don’t even know it exists.” He pauses meaningfully. “And you’ve got this young lady here, wants to buy it.”
    “That is not the point, signore.” Silvia smiles tightly at him. “There is a strict protocol . . .”
    “You have discretion. Don’t tell me you don’t. Oy, Roberto!” he suddenly calls. The man in the black glasses hurries over from somewhere in the back.
    “Signor Temple?” he says smoothly, his eyes darting at me. “Everything is all right?”
    “If I wanted this bag for my lady friend, would you sell it to me?” The man blows out a cloud of smoke and raises his eyebrows at me. He looks like he’s enjoying this.
    Roberto glances at Silvia, who jerks her head at me and rolls her eyes. I can see Roberto taking in the situation, his brain working hard.
    “Signor Temple.” He turns to the man with a charming smile. “You are a very valued customer. It is a very different matter . . .”
    “Would you?”
    “Yes,” Roberto says, after a pause.
    “Well then.” The man looks at Roberto expectantly.
    There’s silence. I hold my breath.
    “Silvia,” Roberto says at last. “Wrap up the bag for the signorina.”
    Oh my GOD!
    “It’s my pleasure,” says Silvia, shooting me a dirty look.
    I can’t believe this has happened.
    “I—I don’t know how to thank you!” I stutter. “That’s the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever done for me, ever!”
    “My pleasure.” The man inclines his head and extends his hand. “Nathan Temple.”
    “Becky Bloomwood,” I say, shaking it. “I mean, Brandon.”
    “You really wanted that bag.” He raises his eyebrows appreciatively. “Never seen anything like it.”
    “I was desperate for it!” I admit with a laugh. “I’m so grateful to you!”
    Nathan Temple waves his hand in a “don’t mention it” gesture, then takes out a lighter and lights his cigar, which has gone out. When he’s puffing away again he looks up.
    “Brandon . . . as in Luke Brandon.”
    “You know Luke?” I’m amazed. “What a coincidence!”
    “By reputation.” He blows out a cloud of cigar smoke. “He has quite a name, your husband. He’s coming back to the company after his year off, I understand?”
    “Well . . . yes,” I say in surprise. “How did you know that?”
    Nathan Temple winks again.
    “I’ve had my eye on him for a while. Talented man. Couple of years ago, all the banks were launching online services. But the one that got all the publicity was SBG. Your husband’s client.”
    “Signor Temple.” Roberto comes bustling over with several carrier bags, which he hands to my new friend. “The rest will be shipped according to your orders. . . .”
    “Good man, Roberto,” says Nathan Temple, clapping him on the back. “See you next year.”
    “Please let me buy you a drink,” I say quickly. “Or lunch! Or . . . anything!”
    “Unfortunately, I have to go. Nice offer, though.”
    “But I want to thank you for what you did. I’m so incredibly grateful!”
    Nathan Temple lifts his hands modestly.
    “Who knows? Maybe one day you can do a favor for me.”
    “Anything!” I exclaim eagerly, and he smiles.
    “Enjoy the bag. All right, Harvey.”
    Out of nowhere, a thin blond man in a chalk-striped suit has appeared. He takes the bags from Nathan Temple and the two walk out of the shop.
    I lean against the counter, radiant with bliss. I have an Angel bag.
I have an Angel bag
!
    “That will be two thousand euros,” comes a surly voice from behind me.
    Oh, right. I’d kind of forgotten about the two thousand euros part.
    I automatically reach for my purse—then stop. Of course. I don’t have my purse. And I’ve maxed out my Visa card on Luke’s belt . . . and I have only seven euros in cash.
    Silvia’s eyes narrow at my hesitation.
    “If you have trouble paying . . .” she begins.
    “I don’t have trouble paying!” I retort at once. “I just . . . need a minute.”
    Silvia folds her arms skeptically as I reach