Shopaholic Takes Manhattan 〈2027〉

As we cruised toward Manhattan, the skyline rose up like a giant, glittering rack of designer shoes. I clutched my handbag—the one I’d bought specifically for 'Transatlantic Travel'—and felt a familiar, warm glow. Back in London, my bank manager, Derek Smeath, was probably staring at a silent phone, wondering where I’d gone. But here? Here, I was a clean slate. A financial guru. A woman with a "Buy Only What You Need" motto.

I stepped off the plane at JFK and immediately felt a spiritual connection to the air. It didn’t just smell like jet fuel and pretzel stands; it smelled like opportunity . And also, possibly, a limited-edition perfume launch at Saks Fifth Avenue. Shopaholic Takes Manhattan

“I’m glad you’re excited about the museums, Becky,” Luke said, looking far too focused on his BlackBerry. As we cruised toward Manhattan, the skyline rose

“New York, Luke!” I squeezed his arm, my eyes already scanning the horizon for the nearest yellow taxi. Or, more accurately, the nearest Barney’s. “The culture! The history! The Guggenheim!” But here

And I definitely needed to see if American mannequins looked as judgmental as the British ones when you ask if they take three different credit cards for one pair of boots.