Chapter 14 Part 2 The Charm of Love - 7

I put the phone back in my bag, feeling a little annoyed.Humph! Well, I'll prove to him that I did.I'm going to the Guggenheim now, right away.I will go after I buy the cosmetics and get the gift. The shopping basket was full of all kinds of beauty products. I hurried to the cashier at the exit, signed the credit card payment slip without looking at it, and then walked out of the mall to the bustling street.Well, it's only 3:30, there is still enough time to rush to the museum and savor this cultural delicacy.Great, actually I really want to see those masterpieces too. Standing on the edge of the sidewalk, I just raised my hand to hail a taxi, when I suddenly saw a small shop with Kate Paper Shop on the signboard.I involuntarily put down my hand and walked slowly towards its window.Just take a look and see it on display, those marbled wrapping papers, and those scrapbooking boxes, and those ribbons with sparkly beads.

Well, I just go in and have a look, five minutes is enough.Then go to the Guggenheim. I pushed open the door and walked around the shop slowly, admiring how well the beautiful wrapping paper decorations were arranged, carefully decorated with various dried flowers, raffia branches and leaves and ribbons, as well as photo albums and exquisite notebooks …oh my gosh, look at those greeting cards! See? They just have character, and New York isn't just for nothing.They are not traditional greeting cards that always say "Happy Birthday" cliché, but handmade with a variety of creative patterns, such as eye-catching flowers and ingenious collages, greeting cards The words on it included things like "Congratulations on the birth of twins" and "So sad to hear you're divorced."

I paced up and down, reveling in the dazzling array of goods in the store.I have to buy some.Like this adorable card that opens up to reveal an origami castle with a little flag that says "I love your renovated home!" I mean, I don't know it yet Who's doing the renovations now, but I can stash the card and give it to Mom when she decides to re-wallpaper the walls of the house.The card had a patch of grass on it and it said "To the outstanding tennis coach as a token of deep gratitude."I have that kind of plan, I want to learn to play tennis in the summer, of course I will thank the coach, right?

I took a few more, and at this point I went to the display rack of invitations.These invitations are even more addictive! Instead of simply saying “Gathering,” the invitations say “See you at the club for breakfast!” and “Let's have a light pizza dinner!” Look, I think I'm going to have to buy some of these invitations, and it would be short-sighted not to buy some now.I mean, Suzie and I are definitely throwing some sort of pizza party, right? You can't get invitations like these in the UK.They are so cute with slices of sparkly pizza printed around the sides of the invitations.I carefully selected ten invitations to put in the shopping basket, plus those cute greeting cards I couldn't help but buy, and some striped wrapping paper, and took the spoils to the cash register.While the cashier was counting the prices one by one, I looked around again at the various products on the display shelves in the store, thinking that I would not miss anything.The cashier lady reported the total amount of the payment to me, and I came back to my senses and was a little surprised.So expensive? Just some greeting cards?

At that moment, I hesitated whether I really needed these greeting cards and invitations.For example, one greeting card reads "Boss, Hanukkah: Jewish holiday, held every year around December, for 8 days, commemorating the rededication of the Great Temple in Jerusalem after the Jewish victory over the Syrians in 165 BC .—Happy Annotation!" But these cards and invitations will come in handy one day, won't they? If I move to New York for work and life, I'll have to get used to sending more expensive cards and invitations to friends and colleagues.In this way, it can be regarded as an exercise to slowly adapt to habits.

Besides, what's the point of having a new line of credit and not using it? That's right.Can all these expenses be included in the budget under the item of "unavoidable business expenses". While I was signing a credit card payment slip, I saw a girl in denim and a hat strolling in front of the business card display, and thought she looked familiar.I looked at her curiously—and suddenly remembered where I had seen her before. "Hi," I greeted her with a friendly smile, "saw you at the sample sale yesterday? Did you buy anything?" She didn't answer my question, but turned around quickly and walked away.She hurried out of the store and bumped into other customers, saying "sorry" repeatedly.To my real surprise, she spoke with a British accent.Well, that's really uninteresting, right? I don't care if I see fellow villagers abroad.God, no wonder people say the British are so lonely.

Ok.I'm off to the Guggenheim now.I walked out of Kate's paper store and looked up and down the road, not knowing which way to wave for a taxi.I stood on the side of the road, wondering which side was north.There was something shiny in the sky fluttering in the wind, I looked up to see if it was going to rain.But the sky was still clear, and none of the pedestrians cared about it.Maybe it's a New York phenomenon, like steam coming up from the gaps in manhole covers on sidewalks. Anyway, stop half-heartedly and go to the Guggenheim. "Excuse me?" I asked a passing woman, "Which direction is the Guggenheim?"

"Over the street," she said, pointing her thumb to one side. "Okay," I said, puzzled, "thanks." That's not right, I had the impression that the Guggenheim was miles away, near Central Park.How come it's just over the street? She must be a foreigner.I'll ask others to see. But all the passers-by on the road were in a hurry, and it was really hard to stop them from asking for directions. "Hi," I snapped, almost grabbing the elbow of a well-dressed man, "to the Guggenheim—" "It's over there," he answered, nodding his head, and hurried on his way again.

What were they talking about? I distinctly remember Kent saying that the Guggenheim was near... near... something. wait a minute. I stopped suddenly and stared ahead in amazement. It's hard to believe.There it was! There was a sign nailed to the wall of a building in front of me - it said "Guggenheim" clearly, word for word! What happened? Did the Guggenheim move? Or are there two Guggenheims? As I walked to the door, I thought the building was too small for a museum—so it probably wasn't the main Guggenheim.Probably one of those popular Soho branches! Yes! I mean, if only there were Tate Britain and Tate Modern in London. Tate? Henry (1819-1899) was an English refined sugar Donated his private art collection to establish the Tate Gallery in London in 1897. ——Annotation, why can’t New York have a Guggenheim main museum and a Guggenheim Soho branch?

Guggenheim Soho, that sounds really cool. I cautiously opened the door—it seems so, the inside is white floor and wall, very spacious, modern art exhibits are placed on the low base cushions, and there are chairs for visitors to sit and rest, people quietly and slowly They walked slowly and spoke softly to each other. You see, all museums look like this.The place to enter the door is very elegant and small, so that people will not feel at a loss as soon as they enter the door.I mean, it takes about half an hour to walk around the showroom.Besides, the exhibits looked interesting.For instance, check out those fantastic red cubes in glass cases! And these amazing abstract prints hanging on the walls.

I stood in front of a print admiring a couple who were also looking at it and whispering how beautiful it was.At this time, the lady said casually, "How much is this painting?" I smiled and was about to turn around and say to her, "I want to know too!" But I was surprised to see the man stretch out his hand and turn the painting around.There is a price tag on the back of the painting! There are price tags on exhibits in museums! What a place! Looks like finally some forward-looking folks agree with me that people don't just want to appreciate art exhibits - they want to know what it's worth How much.I really had to write to tell the Victoria and Albert Museum about the practice here. Exhibits made of utensils, metal products, textiles, etc. ——The person who translated and annotated. You see, I now know how to look at the exhibits, and almost all exhibits have price tags.Those red cubes in that cabinet have price tags, and so does that chair, and even... that box of pencils has a price tag. How odd that a museum would have a box of pencils on display.Or maybe it's a kind of applied art, like what's the name of a girl's bed.I leaned closer to the exhibits and looked at them carefully - each pencil had a small line of writing printed on it.Might be a bit of art or life motto or something... I moved closer and saw that the pencil said "Guggenheim Museum Arcade". what? this is-- I looked up and looked around, amazed. I'm in a mall? At this time, I began to notice things that I hadn't seen before.For example, there are two cash registers at one end of the room.Some people are walking out of the mall with shopping bags in their hands. Oh my God. At this time, I felt really stupid.How could I not recognize that this is a shopping mall? But... this makes people more and more confused.Is this a separate mall? Completely separate from the museum? "Excuse me," I asked a blond young man wearing a work badge, "excuse me—is this a mall?" "Yes, ma'am," the young man replied politely, "this is the Guggenheim Museum Emporium." "So where is the real Guggenheim?" "Over there in the park." "Really." I still looked at him confused. "Let me put it this way, maybe it's more straightforward. People can come here and buy this and that—nobody cares if they've actually been to the museum? I mean, people don't have to show a ticket or something?" "No need, ma'am." "That is to say, people don't have to go to see the art exhibits there at all? They just come here to buy things?" I couldn't help but raise my voice because of the excitement, "This city really gets more and more exciting! It's so perfect Now!" I saw the look of surprise on the young man's face, and I hastened to add, "I mean, of course I wanted to see the art exhibits, I really wanted to. I was just... you know, with Check it out." "If you want to go to the museum," said the young man, "I can call a taxi for you. Would you like to go now?" "Ok……" Now, let me think about it and not make a hasty decision. "Hmm... I'm not sure," I said cautiously, "Let me think about it." "Okay," said the young man, who gave me a strange look as I sat in a white chair, thinking. Well, the problem is obvious.I mean, obviously I can go to the Guggenheim.I can hail a taxi, drive to this museum where I don’t know where to go, and then spend the whole afternoon looking at art exhibits. Or... I could buy a book about the Guggenheim... and then spend the whole afternoon shopping and shopping. The key is, do people really need to see the art exhibit itself to appreciate it? Of course, there is no need for such twists and turns.From a certain point of view, the effect of flipping through and appreciating a picture album is better than running between many art galleries on the spot-because you can appreciate more artworks and learn more knowledge faster. Besides, this mall also sells some art-related products, right? I mean, don't I already understand that I have absorbed a lot of beneficial cultural nutrients.Yes, exactly. I didn't rush out of the mall.I wandered inside for at least ten minutes, looking at the various exhibits on display, and experiencing and feeling the cultural atmosphere here.Before I left I bought a big thick brochure for Luke, a stylish beaker for Suzy, some pencils and a calendar for my mother. great.Now I can go shopping boldly! When I walked out on the street, I felt relaxed and happy, just like a primary school student who was suddenly notified that the school was closed for a day and he didn’t have to go to school.I walked down Broadway, turned into a side street, and passed some stalls selling fake handbags and colorful hair clips, and there was a guy on the side of the road playing a guitar, very ordinary.Soon I came to a cobblestone alley, turned left and turned right, and wandered into another alley.Sometimes there are old but tall red brick buildings on both sides of the alley. There are fire escape ladders on the walls of the buildings, and trees are planted on the sidewalks on both sides of the alley. Suddenly, compared with Broadway, the atmosphere here seems to have returned to the previous one. years.You see, I'm sure I'll get used to living here, no problem. Oh my goodness, there are stores! Each one is better looking than the last.In one store, large posters of down jackets hang on antique furniture.Another shop had walls painted like clouds, rows of plush party festoons lined the walls, and bowls of candy scattered around the store.Another store is full of black and white art installations, like Fred Astaire Fred Astaire (Fred Astaire, 1899-1987): famous American film actor, especially in music and dance entertainment Well known to people. ——Annotation The scenes in the movie are average.Hey, check out this store again! I stood on the side of the road, gaping at a costumed mannequin wearing nothing but a clear plastic shirt with a goldfish swimming in its pocket.It's the most outlandish costume I've ever seen. You see—I've been secretly wishing I could wear something really avant-garde.I mean gosh, how cool is it to buy one of these avant-garde pieces and take them home and show them that they got them in Soho, NYC! At least... I'm still in Soho Huh? Maybe it's Nolita here.Or...NoHo? Or Solita? Honestly, I don't know where I am, but I don't want to check a map and make it obvious that I'm a tourist. Anyway, wherever it is, I don't care.I'll go in and have a look. I pushed open the heavy door and walked into the shop. The shop was empty, and there was a smell of burning incense candles and a strange, deep and reverberating music.I walked to a fence table where the clothes were placed, put on a sophisticated look, and touched the clothes on the table with my fingers.Gosh, these clothes are so grotesque.There was a pair of trousers ten feet long, a plastic helmet in an all-white shirt, and a skirt made of corduroy and newspaper, which was really pretty—but what if it rained and got wet? "Hello," a young man stepped forward.He was wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of very tight trousers, which were made of silver or something except for the denim at the crotch, which looked... well, conspicuous. "Hi," I replied, trying to sound cool without looking at the crotch of his pants. "Did you have a good time today?" "fine thanks!" I reached out and touched a black shirt—and let go quickly, when I suddenly saw a shiny male genital model embedded in the front of the shirt. "Is there something you fancy and want to try?" Be brave, Becky.Don't appear to be a coward.Choose a piece of clothing. "Hmm... ok. This one!" I said, grabbing a purple loose shirt with a funnel-shaped collar, and it looked pretty good. "Just this one." I followed him to the back room of the store, where there was a fitting room separated by iron sheets. It was only when I took the blouse off the hanger that it had two funnel necks.In fact, the blouse actually looks a bit like the pullover my grandmother once gave my dad for Christmas. "Excuse me," I said, poking my head over the fitting partition and asking, "this blouse has... two necklines." Stared at me blankly, as if I were some imbecile idiot. "That's it," he said, "that's the style." "Oh, yes!" I said quickly, "Of course." I immediately retracted and lowered my head. I didn't dare to ask which neckline I should stick my head out of, so I struggled to put my head into the first neckline—it looked really horrible.I tried on the second neckline—it was also horrific. "Are you all right?" the guy outside the fitting partition asked, and I felt my face burn.I can't admit that I haven't figured out which neckline to stick my head through. "I'm... all right," I struggled to answer, the voice seemed to be stuck in my throat. "Come out and look in the mirror?" "Okay!" My voice was high-pitched. Oh my God.My face was flushed, because my head was going to stick through the neckline, and it made my hair stand on end.I hesitated and pushed open the door of the fitting partition, looking at my own image in the big mirror opposite.I've never looked so stupid. "Stylish knit jumper," said the guy, looking at me with his arms crossed. "It's very stylish to wear." "Hmm... yes," I said hesitantly, "it's interesting." I clumsily tugged at the cuffs of my jumper, not thinking too much about whether my appearance felt short. "You look very stylish in that shirt," the guy added. "It's a real eye-catcher." He spoke with a certain tone, and I looked at myself in the mirror again.You see—maybe he's right.Maybe I'm not ugly like this. "Madonna bought three of these jumpers in different colors," the guy said, and suddenly lowered his voice, "but tell you, she doesn't look very good in them." I stared at him with wide eyes. "Madonna also wears this kind of jumper? Is this it?" "Yes. But you wear it much better." He leaned against a mirrored post and inspected one of his fingernails. "So—do you buy it?" God, I love this city.Who can buy pizza invitations with sparkle around the border, get free mascara, and get an outfit Madonna likes to wear, all in the same afternoon? When I came to the Royalton Hotel, I There was a happy smile on his face.Since...well, yesterday, I've been addicted to shopping again and again. I deposited my shopping bags in the coat closet and headed for the bistro, where Luke asked me to meet him and his new partner, Mr. Michael Ellis, directly. In the past few days, I have heard a lot about this Mr. Michael Ellis intermittently.It appears that he owns a large advertising agency in Washington and has a relationship with the President.Or with the vice president? Either way, that's always the case.It can be said that he is a big man and plays a decisive role in Luke's new business.Therefore, I'd better make a good impression on him. Ah, what a beautiful bar, I thought as I entered the bistro.There are seats with leather upholstery, and the armrests are chrome-plated. The customers are all in black formal suits, well-dressed and with stylish hairstyles.I walked into the softly lit bar and saw Luke sitting at a table.To my surprise, he was the only one sitting at that table. "Hi!" I said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "So—where's your friend?" "On the phone," Luke said.He gestured to a waiter, "Another cocktail." He gave me a teasing look as I sat down. "So, honey, how about the Guggenheim?" "Fine," I said with a confident smile.Ha, ha-di-ha.I was prepared when I came all the way by taxi. "I particularly like a group of acrylic figures, conceived in terms of simple geometric shapes." "Really?" said Luke, looking a little surprised. "Yes. This group of statues masterfully absorbs and reflects pure light... It is amazing! Oh, look, I bought you a present." I put a book called "Abstract Art and the Artist "The thick picture album was placed on his lap, and he took a sip from the wine glass in front of me on the table, while trying not to look too complacent. "You really went to the Guggenheim!" Luke said, flipping through the album as if he still couldn't believe it. "Well... yes," I said, "of course I went!" Well, I know I shouldn't lie to my boyfriend.But that's true too, isn't it? I mean, I did go to the Guggenheim.Of course, in the broad sense of the word. "That's really interesting," Luke was saying, "You saw Brancusi (Brancusi, 1876-1957): a famous Romanian modern sculptor, who often creates many variants of the same theme with different materials. Works, emphasizing the use of abstract geometric shapes and lines, the main works include "Sleeping Muse", "Infinity Pillar" and so on. ——Annotation of the famous sculpture?" "Hmm... this..." I leaned over and peeked quietly to see where he had turned over. "Well, I was more focused on the... um... geometric shapes, of course, the incomparable... um..." "Here's Michael," Luke cut me off.He closed the album, and I quickly put the album back into the bag.Thank goodness.I raised my head, interested to see what the famous Michael looked like - and this look almost spit out the wine in my mouth. It was hard to believe that it was him.Michael Ellis is the bald guy in the gym.The last time he saw me, I nearly fell at his feet. "Hi!" said Luke, standing up. "Becky, this is Michael Ellis, my new partner." "Hi, see you again," I said, trying to look as calm as I could with a smile, "How are you?" Oh, what a coincidence.It's often said that people who meet in the gym should never see each other in real life.It does feel a little embarrassing. "We've had the good fortune to meet," Michael Ellis said, shaking my hand and sitting down across from me with a twinkle in his eye. "Becky and I went to the gym yesterday. Didn't see you this morning." "This morning?" Luke asked, sitting back up and looking at me with a puzzled look on his face. "I remember you saying the gym wasn't open this morning, Becky." Damn it. "Oh. Um, what about this..." I took a big sip of my cocktail and cleared my throat. "I said I wouldn't open it in the morning, but I meant...it was..." My voice gradually disappeared. Oh my gosh, how I want to make a good impression on my guests. "What was I talking about," Michael said suddenly, "I must have lost my head! Not this morning. The gym was closed this morning. I think it was for an important overhaul. Anyway, that sort of thing." He smiled at me, and I felt a slight flush in my face. "So," I said, eager to change the subject, "you're . I'm just asking out of politeness and changing the subject to stop talking about my workout at the gym.I expected both of them to explain to me the details of the business they had embarked on, so that I could nod in approval while sipping my cocktail.But to my surprise, they were both silent, not saying a word. "Good question," said Luke at last, looking at Michael. "What did Clark say?" "We had a long talk," Michael said, "and it didn't work out very well." I looked from Luke to Michael, embarrassed. "Did something go wrong?" "It depends," Michael said. He started telling Luke about his phone conversation with this guy named Clark, and I tried to pay attention to what they were saying, but the problem was that I was starting to feel really dizzy.How much did I drink in total today? Honestly, I don't want to find out either.I leaned back on the leather back of my chair, closed my eyes, and listened drowsily, as their conversation seemed to float above my head. "...that's kind of paranoid..." "...think they'll be able to change the goalposts..." "...overhead...reduce costs...put Alicia Billington in charge of the London stall..." "Alicia?" I struggled to sit up straight. "Alicia in charge of the London office?" "That's pretty much a done deal," Luke said, breaking off abruptly. "So what?" "but--" "But what?" said Michael, looking at me with a look of interest on his face. "Why, isn't she suitable for the London office? She's smart and ambitious..." "Oh, this...it's nothing." I said weakly. I can't justly say "because she's annoying." "Did you hear that she just got engaged," Luke said. "Her fiancé is Ed Collins of Henson Hill Company." "Really?" I asked in amazement, "I thought she was in a relationship with...that man." "With whom?" Michael asked. "Hmm...what's the name." I took a sip of the cocktail, trying to clear my mind. "She's having a sneaky lunch with that guy called something, and what else!" What's that guy's name? God, I'm so confused. "Becky likes to inquire about all kinds of rumors in the company," Luke said with a laugh, "but the problem is that rumors can only be heard after all." I frowned at him.What is he trying to say? Am I someone who likes to gossip? "It's not a bad thing to listen to the rumors in the company a little bit," Michael said, still smiling, "That can also play a role in promoting." "Exactly!" I said emphatically, "I totally agree with that. I always tell Luke that you should take care of your people's personal lives and preferences, just like I give financial advice to viewers on TV shows." .not just looking at the calling number, but talking directly to the caller. Like... a conversation with Enid from Northamptonshire!" I looked at Michael, expecting a few words of approval from him , but immediately realized that he would never know about Enid. "By the rules, she's due to retire," I explained, "with the pension and everything. But in real life..." "She's not planning to retire yet?" Michael said. "That's true! She loves her job, but her stupid husband told her to give it up. And she's only 55 years old!" I gestured casually with the glass in my hand. "I mean, don't people say that real life doesn't start until 55?" "I'm not sure that's the case," Michael said with a smile, "but there might be something to it." He looked at me with interest, "I'll watch your show someday. It's also broadcast here in the United States." ?" "No, not in America," I said regretfully, "but I'll be doing the same show on American TV soon, and you'll be able to see it then!" "I look forward to seeing your show as soon as possible." Michael raised his wrist to look at his watch, and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp. "I'm afraid I'll have to go, Luke. We'll talk later. It's good to see you, Becky. If I ever need financial advice in the future, I know who to turn to." After he left, I leaned back comfortably in the wide seat and turned to look at Luke.His deliberate demeanor was gone, and now he was frowning and staring ahead, his fingers mechanically shredding a bookend of matchbooks. "Michael seems to be a very nice guy," I said, "and friendly." "Yeah," Luke said, but absent-mindedly, "yes, he's that human." I took another sip of my cocktail and watched Luke more closely.He's looking exactly like the look I saw him have last month, when one of his employees made a mistake during a press conference and leaked some confidential data to the press.I couldn't help but think back to the words and phrases of their conversation that I vaguely remembered just now—looking at his frowning face, I began to feel a little worried. "Luke," I said at last, "what's the matter? What's wrong with what you're trying to do?" "No," Luke said, but he still didn't move. "So, what did Michael mean when he said 'it depends'? And what did you say about them wanting to change the goalposts?" I moved closer to him, trying to shake his hand, but Luke didn't respond.I watched him anxiously and silently, and gradually became aware of the whispers of other customers and background music all around us under the soft light.A woman at the next table is opening a Tiffany jewelry box, followed by a low exclamation - if I were in normal times, I would throw down the napkin and look sideways to see her jewelry box What exactly is there.But at this point, I was deeply troubled by Luke's concern.A waiter came running to our table and I shook my head at him. "Luke, what's wrong with you?" I leaned over to him. "Okay, tell me, what's the problem?" "Nothing," Luke said briefly, taking another sip from his glass. "No trouble. All is well. Well, let's go."