Retreating to her room at the hotel, Julia shucked her rain-soaked clothes. She jumped in the shower, intending to be quick, but thoughts involving gray eyes and great hands—and a great mouth, now that she knew what kind of kisser he was—led to a longer—and hotter—shower than she’d anticipated. By the time she reluctantly dragged herself out of the shower and got dressed, she’d missed the next activity on the schedule—an afternoon spent canoeing on the resort’s private pond.
Guilt poked holes in her good mood and she deflated a little. She had ditched her friends while out on the trail, and now she’d skipped spending time with them this afternoon, too. Not to mention the fact that she was supposed to be taking in as much of the resort’s rom-com experience as possible for her “Take Me!” article.
She’d had quite the experience today, just not exactly something she could include in a review. Having a bit of fun was one thing; the point of this place was to indulge in romantic fantasies, after all … But how far was too far?
It was time to clear her head and regroup. After the canoe excursion, the plan had been to retreat to their rooms to freshen up, then meet in the lobby so they could go in to dinner together. Since she’d already showered and changed and was now ahead of schedule, Julia decided to head downstairs. She’d get there early and take a few notes while waiting for her friends.
Finding a comfy spot on one of the lobby sofas, Julia pulled out her notepad and settled in. Instinctively, she reached for her phone before remembering it was still in the hotel lockbox. She had to admit, it was rather nice to spend a day without constantly checking emails and social media updates, free from the general chaotic noise of the constant stream of information and expectation that was usually within arm’s reach at all times. An unexpected perk of living in fantasyland for a week.
Without the distraction of her phone to occupy her, Julia lounged on the cushions and did a bit of people watching instead. From what she’d seen at the cocktail hour last night, there were about fifty to sixty people participating in the role-playing game. Adding in the performers, the total was closer to seventy-five.
She wondered whether the hotel was booking guests other than those involved in the rom-com simulation. She added a note to look into that, as well as to find out more about the resort’s plans for expanding the program. Did they intend to run it on a weekly basis? Monthly?
“Hey.” Andie flopped down onto the sofa next to her.
“Hi.” Julia blinked. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“I know. You were tuned out.” Andie grinned. “You had your reporter face on.”
“What’s my reporter face look like?”
“Like my game face. Focused. Intense.”
“Sorry I missed canoeing,” Julia apologized. “How was it?”
“Wet.”
Julia’s eyes widened, “Someone fall in?”
“Several someones. Including this someone.” Andie jabbed a thumb at herself. “Thanks to a certain Cheesehead who doesn’t know how to steer a canoe.”
“Curt?”
“The one and only.”
“Please tell me he recited some bawdy limericks.”
“No.” Andie’s mouth quirked. “But I did.”
A snort of laughter escaped Julia. Having watched Bridget Jones’s Diary so recently, that scene was obviously still fresh in both their minds.
“What about you?” Andie eyed Julia. “How was your walk back?”
“Also wet.”
Andie coughed.
“Because of the rain,” Julia clarified, cheeks heating,
“Ri-i-ight,” Andie drawled, but she didn’t press for more details. Her gaze shifted to Julia’s notebook. “Making any progress?”
“Some.” Julia tapped her pen against her chin. “I’d like to interview the owner, but I don’t want to blow my cover.”
“So have Kat do it.”
“Have me do what?” Kat asked.
Andie glanced up. “There’s our third musketeer.”
Julia made room on the couch for Kat. “I was just telling Andie I have some questions I’d like to run by the owner.”
“And since I’m supposed to be you, you want me to do it,” Kat summarized, sliding in next to Julia. “Sure.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not?” Kat smiled. “Just don’t expect me to memorize the questions, okay? Send them to my phone—wait, you can’t do that.”
“I’ll give you my little notepad,” Julia decided, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. “I’ll write all my questions down and you can record the answers and give it back to me.” She started scribbling.
“What are you doing?” Andie demanded.
“Writing down my list of questions.” Julia cocked her head. “Weren’t you listening?”
“Put that away.” Andie waved a hand at the notebook. “Dinner first. Reporter stuff later.”
Julia and Kat shared a look before following Andie into the dining room. They both knew better than to argue with their friend when she was hungry.
“Where should we sit?” Andie asked.
“Depends.” Julia hesitated. “Are either of you expecting someone to join you?”
“I’m not, no.” Andie’s mouth pinched. “But that doesn’t mean a certain Packers fan won’t show up and try to tailgate at our table.”
Julia laughed. “What about you, Kat?”
“I haven’t seen Zach since breakfast,” she admitted, shoulders drooping.
Julia frowned in sympathy. “I’m sure he’ll turn up at some point.” She glanced around the room. She hadn’t made specific plans to see Luke, either, but she couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment when she didn’t catch sight of a head of tousled sandy hair rising above the crowd sitting down to dinner.
“It’ll be good to sit with some new people, meet other guests.” Some of the tables had already filled, but there were still plenty of open seats left. Julia pointed to an empty table off to the side. “How about over there?”
“Done,” Andie said.
By the time they reached the table, a pleasant-looking couple that Julia guessed to be in their early fifties had found their way to the same spot. “Mind if we share?” she asked.
“Please, join us.” The woman smiled and gestured to the open seats.
As they settled around the table, Julia remembered to introduce herself as Meg, and her friends followed suit.
Kat’s greeting as Bridget was wan, and Julia hoped her friend cheered up soon. She hated seeing her upset and hoped Kat’s mood wasn’t a sign she’d already gotten emotionally invested in Zach. This was exactly the kind of thing Julia had been worried about.
Like you’re one to talk, Miss Make Out on a Log. That was different. It was just a kiss. One epic kiss in the rain.
And a dozen more imagined in the shower. Julia grimaced. She couldn’t escape her own BS detector.
One of the flaws in her plan to “just have fun” was that she tended to get too serious too fast. Physical intimacy always seemed to carry more weight for her than the person she was intimate with, ever since her first real kiss.
In high school, Julia had been thrilled when she’d been asked out on her first official date. Ben. That had been his name. The evening had started out with the typical dinner and a movie. But then she and Ben had taken a walk in the park after. She could still remember how the gravel trail glowed in the moonlight, the night sounds of insects humming softly in the background as her date had pulled her close in the shadow of a giant oak and kissed her. A kiss kiss, with tongue.
At the time, Julia could have died from the romance of it all. She’d been so wrapped up in that kiss and the feelings it inspired in her that she’d assumed the intimate moment was the start of something serious. She was so sure of it, in fact, that Ben’s reaction the next day had caught her completely off guard. Instead of asking her to be his girlfriend, or even asking her on another date, he’d given her the cold shoulder, as if what they’d shared had been no big deal.
Like the awkward encounter at the junior high dance, her heart still bore scar tissue from that experience. It had been a painful lesson … one she apparently had yet to learn. In retrospect, she thought cynically, considering her first kiss in the forest and her make-out session in the woods today, maybe her problem was that she had a tree fetish.
Pasting on a smile, Julia turned her attention to the couple, who had introduced themselves as Harry and Sally. “You must have gotten a kick out of the dessert last night, huh?” she asked.
“It was perfect,” the woman gushed.
“She kept shouting, ‘It’s my pie! They’re serving my pie!’” Harry raised his voice, mimicking his wife, before turning to smile at her indulgently. “I think she scared a few of the people at our table.”
“I do have a tendency to get carried away.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit of enthusiasm.” Andie grinned. “I say if you’re going to do something, might as well go all in.”
“Ooh, I like that.” The older woman clasped her hands.
“Truth is, we don’t get out much,” Harry admitted. “This is the first time in years we’ve had a chance to let our hair down. Well, I don’t have any hair to let down.” He chuckled and rubbed his bald head, warm brown skin gleaming in the light of the banquet hall’s chandeliers. “But you know what I mean.”
Julia laughed. “I do.” She liked these two and was glad they’d ended up sitting together.
“Our youngest will be going off to college this fall,” Sally explained. “And we’ll be empty nesters.”
“For years, all we seemed to focus on was the kids,” Harry chimed in. “And now, it’s like we have nothing to talk about.”
“We’ve always enjoyed watching romantic comedies together, so we thought this might be fun.” Sally squeezed her husband’s arm. “A way to rediscover each other.”
“That’s so sweet,” Julia gushed. “What a great reason to come here.” She fought the urge to take out her notepad and launch into a full interview on the spot. From newlywed couples just starting out to those looking to rekindle the spark, there was so much more to this experience than she’d ever imagined.
“May I have everyone’s attention for a moment, please,” Penelope, the game master, announced from the front of the room. Once the conversations had died down, she continued. “I hope you’ve all enjoyed your first full day at Notting Hill. Now that everyone has had a chance to tour the resort and itineraries have been filled out and schedules assigned, we’re ready to shift into full swing! It’s time to experience what it’s like to become a part of the blissful, sometimes bananas fantasy world of romantic comedies!”
A smattering of laughter and applause filled the room. “With that in mind, we thought it would be fun to start things out with a bang. So how about a little rom-com-related contest?”
More cheers.
“Do you think she means a trivia game?” Sally wondered.
Andie clapped her hands. “Bring it on.”
“Now then, for this contest, you simply have to do something that—and this is a direct quote—‘most women at one time or another’ have done.”
“Oh,” Andie breathed, eyes widening.
“Oh, indeed.” Kat leered. “A very big O.”
“Wait.” Julia glanced uneasily between her friends. “You don’t think we’re supposed to…”
“However, faking it is not relegated to any one gender, so I want to clarify that this contest is open to all players.”
Appreciative chuckles mixed with another round of applause.
“Does that answer your question?” Andie asked, dark eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do.”
“Here?” Julia looked around the room. “In front of everybody?”
“That’s how she does it in the movie,” Sally reasoned.
“We’re not all supposed to do it, are we?” Harry asked.
“She did say all genders. Why?” his wife teased. “Having some performance anxiety?”
“Participation is completely optional,” Penelope continued, “but I do want to mention there will be a prize. A certificate for a couple’s massage in our spa.” She gestured toward a table in the center of the room. “The winner will be chosen by our charming hostess, the lovely owner of Notting Hill Resort, Mrs. Weatherfork!”
Applause once again filled the room as the charming hostess got to her lilac-slippered feet, waving her bejeweled hand in the air like she was on a parade float. Gone was the key lime pie ensemble of this morning. Tonight, the eccentric lady was dressed head to toe in a cloud of purples.
“Do you think her closet looks like a bag of Skittles exploded?” Julia wondered.
“I’m more curious about her lingerie drawer,” Kat admitted, mood perking up.
“You want to see her underwear?” Julia stared at her friend.
“Her pajamas, you freak. If she dresses that absurdly during the day, imagine what her nightwear looks like!” Kat grinned. “All right. Who’s ready to fake some fireworks?”
Andie straightened in her seat. “I’m game.”
Julia bit her lip. No surprise there.
“Me too,” Kat confessed. “I’ve always wanted to try something like this.”
“You’ve always wanted to be an exhibitionist?” Julia asked. Though, knowing Kat, this was also not a surprise.
“Count me in.” Sally waved her hand.
“Are you sure?” her husband asked.
“Yes, I’m sure.” A shy titter escaped her. “I’m Sally, aren’t I? This is my moment to shine!” She patted her husband’s hand. “You sit back and let me do all the work.” She turned to the group and winked. “It will be just like at home.”
Julia swallowed a bubble of nervous laughter. “Well, I guess if you’re all doing it, I can try and join in.”
“‘Do. Or do not. There is no try.’” Andie winked.
“Is that one of your coaching slogans?” Julia wondered.
Andie gasped in mock outrage. “Excuse me, that is Master Yoda.”
“Your nerd is showing again,” Kat teased. “Now then, should we all go at once?”
“Wait, right now?” Julia asked. “Actually, I don’t think I…”
But Andie and Kat had already closed their eyes and started to moan.
On her left, Sally was breathing heavily, fingers stroking over her face and down her neck in a very accurate rendition of Meg Ryan’s performance.
Okay, this was getting awkward. Julia glanced around the rest of the dining room, where others were joining in, picking up the pace, a chorus of ecstatic shouts mixing with the sound of hands slapping against tables. “Yes. Yes. Yes!”
It was one thing to watch someone fake an orgasm in a movie, it was another to witness dozens of people do it firsthand. But it was when the pack of corgis joined in, barking and howling, that Julia truly lost it. She wondered if she could slither off her chair and hide under the table from the group orgy in which she suddenly found herself.
After a few more uncomfortable seconds, Andie and Kat started to taper off. Soon they had stopped completely, their full attention on Sally. The woman had an impressive set of lungs … and stamina. The rest of the room quieted while Sally continued to yell and moan, climax ebbing and flowing.
Kat had mentioned fireworks, and that’s exactly what this was—like watching a fireworks show. Sally would start to really gather some steam, to the point that Julia was sure the grand finale was about to happen, but then she would ease off, shifting into a series of slower, more sensual noises. And then she’d increase the tempo again, louder and faster, until Julia was once again convinced the climactic end of the show was approaching.
Finally, the big O arrived. Like her movie predecessor, Sally came. And came and came and came. In the immediate aftermath of the orgasmic explosion, the dining room felt obscenely quiet. No murmur of conversation. No clatter of plates or clank of silverware. Even the dogs had gone completely silent. Several people were gaping, their mouths wide open.
Should she clap? Julia felt like she should clap. A performance that epic deserved some applause. The rustling of lavender silk abruptly broke the silence as Mrs. Weatherfork stood. The entire dining room turned toward their brightly dressed hostess. She cleared her throat and coyly announced, “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Laughter burst across the room, followed by thunderous applause. The owner of the resort approached their table. “Well done.” She handed Sally an envelope. “Enjoy.” She waggled her artistically arched eyebrows. “I’d say you’ve earned it.” With a wink, the woman returned to her seat, ever-present entourage of corgis in tow.
“Take a bow honey, they’re clapping for you,” Harry said.
“Oh, stop,” Sally demurred with a bashful grin.
“It was a spectacular performance,” Kat chimed in.
“Very impressive,” Andie agreed. “You definitely went all in.”
Sally ducked her head shyly but managed to stand up and take a bow. Growing bolder, she began blowing kisses to the crowd.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned,” Harry admitted. But his voice was playful, and his smile was warm and genuine as he pulled his wife onto his lap and gave her a kiss.
Their banter had the easy, affectionate teasing of two people who had known and loved each other a long time. Would Julia ever have that? Ever have that kind of relationship? Her parents didn’t. Part of it was probably due to the fact that although they’d been married almost thirty years, thanks to all the work travel, her mom and dad had rarely been together in the same place long enough to develop such a bond.
But that was an excuse. Julia sighed. Ever since she could remember, she’d known her parents had both been faking it. Faking love. Faking happiness. Faking marriage.
She refused to do the same. If she was going to be with someone, Julia promised herself, what she had would be real.