few minutes we’re serving up lamb casserole with baked potatoes and broccoli, along with Mum’s favorite crusty bread.
“Wait,” I say, as she sits down and Jake starts pouring wine. “Wait. We haven’t got enough seats. I don’t understand …” I look around the table, confused, then realize it’s because Seb’s here. There’s an extra person.
“Use that chair?” Seb suggests, pointing at Dad’s empty carver, and I stiffen automatically.
“No, we don’t ever use that. It was Dad’s. But it’s fine—we can bring one in from the kitchen.…”
“You sit in it, Fixie,” says Nicole suddenly, and I gape at her, stunned that she would even suggest it. “Why not? You wouldn’t mind, would you, Mum?”
We’re all looking at Dad’s chair, and back at Mum, and I can see her thinking hard, looking at us again, her unfamiliar earrings dangling. I can almost read her mind: Everything’s changed.
“Yes,” she says slowly. “I think it’s time to use it again. Fixie, love, you sit in it.”
“But …” I flounder. Dad’s chair? The chair at the head of the table? Me?
“Go on,” says Jake, nodding at the chair. “Sit down, or I’ll take it. Seriously, you deserve it,” he adds in a nicer voice.
“I’ll lay an extra place,” says Leila quickly. “It’ll only take a second.”
As Nicole passes broccoli around the table and Seb pours out the wine, I venture toward the big heavy chair. As I pull it out, I’m remembering Dad in this chair. His authority. And just for an instant I think, I can’t sit here, I’m not worthy—but then I glance up and catch Seb’s eye. He gives me a tiny, infinitesimal nod, and I suddenly remember those words he hurled at me in fury: You need to start thinking less about what you owe other people and more about what you owe yourself.
He might have been angry, but he was right.
I owe this to myself. I do. I owe it to myself.
I sit down in my place, pull the chair in with more confidence, and shake out the napkin that Leila’s set for me, with a smile of thanks. And as I survey the faces that I love so dearly, I feel a kind of contentment. So we’re not flash. So we’re not moneyed. So we don’t have all the answers or know exactly where we’re going. We’ll still be all right, our family. We’ll be all right.
To my reader
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe one to many, many people.
Francesca at Transworld, Kara and Susan at Penguin Random House NYC, and all my woderful publishers around the world.
Julia and Becky, Debbie, Jess and Sharon and the whole amazing Team Kinsella, with a special thank-you to Richard Ogle.
My tireless agents, Araminta, Marina, Kim, Nicki, and Sam and all at LAW and ILA.
My writerly friends for cocktails and wise counsel—especially Jojo, Lisa, Jenny, Kristy, Linda, Joanna, Tom, and the Board.
The very helpful owners and staff of Harts of Stur—a fabulous family store!
My family—I owe you about eleventy billion.
And finally: the nameless American man who asked me to mind his laptop in a Starbucks one time, and instantly triggered my imagination...
I definitely owe you one.
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
Surprise Me
I Owe You One
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, My Not So Perfect Life and, most recently, Surprise Me. She lives in London.
sophiekinsella
SophieKinsellaOfficial
KinsellaSophie
sophiekinsellawriter
Keep Reading
An Excerpt from
SURPRISE ME
One
FIVE WEEKS EARLIER
It begins on our tenth anniversary. Who would have thought?
Actually, there are two things going on here: 1. Who would have thought it would all kick off on such an auspicious day? And 2. Who would have thought we’d make ten years in the first place?
By ten years, I don’t mean ten years since our wedding. I mean ten years since we first met. It was at my mate Alison’s birthday party. That was the day our lives changed forever. Dan was manning the barbecue and I asked him for a burger and … bam.
Well, not bam as in instant love. Bam as in I thought, Mmm. Look at those eyes. Look at those arms. He’s nice. He was wearing a blue T-shirt which brought out his eyes. He had a chef’s apron round his