On Friday evening, Julia headed to Andie’s place. She was eager to share the results of her meeting with Cleo with her friends, but also nervous. Ever since her bizarre encounter with the editorial director, she’d been a ball of stress. In between meeting her current story deadlines, Julia had spent all her time brainstorming. Despite the confident promise she’d made to her boss, she was worried that she wasn’t going to have anything ready on Monday.
She needed a pitch, and that involved coming up with a story idea … and in this case, the story needed to be about a place. And not just any place but a freaking cool place. A destination that got readers excited, made them want to shout, “Take me!” But that was also local. Or at least local-ish. So far, nothing she’d come up with had felt unique enough to be worth pursuing.
Julia pushed thoughts about her job to the back burner. Maybe she’d wait until after her next meeting with Cleo to give her friends an update. She was determined to enjoy herself this evening.
Just as Wednesday afternoons were their standing weekly lunch date, Friday nights were their weekly girls’ night in. Dick pics aside, Saturdays were for dates, but Fridays were reserved for the three of them and the three Cs: carbs, cocktails, and comedies. They’d eat and drink and watch rom-coms, a tradition begun back when they were all sharing an apartment together, just starting out as grown-ups in the big city.
Well, almost grown-ups. The apartment was an off-campus place that Andie’s parents owned. The three of them had moved in when they were juniors. Now, several years later, the only one still living there was Andie. Kat had left first, taking the condo above the posh flower shop she managed. Julia had moved out a few months after scoring the TrendList job, to a matchbook-size loft space downtown. It was tiny but boasted a great view. And was super close to her office.
A perk that wouldn’t matter anymore if she didn’t come up with an amazing pitch.
Back burner, Julia reminded herself as she unlocked the door. Fun now, worry later.
“Hey,” she called out, dumping her purse on the couch.
“Hey.” Kat didn’t look up from her spot behind the island. Since they both still had keys, Julia wasn’t surprised to see Kat at home in the kitchen, cutting triangles of pita bread and spreading them on a plate around a bowl of hummus.
Julia washed her hands in the sink, then reached for a piece of pita and moaned, “Ooh, it’s warm.”
“I know. I just toasted it.” Kat shooed her away from the hummus. “Wait for Andie.”
“Where is she?”
“At the store, grabbing some fancy liquor for this new cocktail recipe she wants to try.”
Julia made a face. A wannabe mixologist, Andie’s creations were hit or miss. She checked the fridge, relieved to see a bottle of white wine chilling. If the latest experiment ended up being a miss, at least they had backup booze.
Kat opened a bag of pretzels and dumped them into a bowl. “What are we watching tonight?”
Swiping a handful of pretzels before Kat could stop her, Julia popped a few in her mouth and walked over to the entertainment center. Grabbing the remote, she clicked to access the streaming service and scrolled until the movie she wanted appeared on the screen.
“Bridget Jones’s Diary, huh? Going with a classic?”
“I was in the mood for it.” Julia polished off the rest of the pretzels in her fist.
“I’m always in the mood for that one.” Kat winked, tossing her honey blond braid over her shoulder.
“You’re always in the mood for Colin Firth,” Julia corrected, tugging on Kat’s braid as she walked by.
“Facts,” Kat agreed, flopping onto the couch.
“The man has serious BDE.”
“Who, Firth?” Julia asked as she inched back toward the kitchen island.
“Well, I’m not talking about Grant. He’s got that Aw, shucks awkward schtick going for him.”
“I kinda like that awkward schtick,” Julia admitted.
Kat glanced over her shoulder. “You better not make a move on the pita bread again,” she said, shooting Julia a warning look.
Julia held her palms up, proclaiming innocence. “I’m waiting, I’m waiting.”
At that moment, a key sounded in the lock and Andie appeared. “Did you bitches start without me?” she asked, face hidden behind the brown paper bag she was carrying.
“Jules tried to,” Kat ratted her out. “But I wouldn’t let her.”
“Well, the gang’s all here now, so…” Julia stuck her tongue out at Kat and then grabbed a piece of pita, taking it for a swim in the hummus.
“Very mature, Jules.”
“I’m not the one who was talking about Colin Firth’s BDE,” Julia shot back.
“B. D. what?” Andie asked, unscrewing the caps from a couple of liquor bottles.
Julia recognized the vodka label, but she’d never seen the other bottle before. “E,” she confirmed, watching with a skeptical eye as Andie measured out shots of the mystery liquid. “Kat is convinced Colin Firth has it.”
“Oh, God, it’s not some venereal disease, is it?” Andie wrinkled her nose.
“How dare you!” Kat declared, rising from the couch, aghast. “Do not besmirch my Colin that way.”
“Hear that?” Julia teased. “No besmirching.”
“Got it.” Andie added ice to a cocktail shaker and did a little dance around the kitchen, the lithe curve of muscle in her arms bunching as she shook the canister vigorously. A lifelong athlete, she’d have no problem participating in an afternoon stretch session with Cleo. Pouring the mixture into three martini glasses, Andie asked Kat, “So are you going to explain, or do I have to guess?”
“Explain what?”
“BDE.” Andie handed Kat a glass.
“Guessing could be fun.” Kat grinned wickedly.
“British Devil Eyes?” Andie hazarded, passing a drink to Julia.
“Not a bad guess,” Kat acknowledged with a nod. “But nope.” Julia caught how Kat surreptitiously lifted the cocktail closer to her nose, giving it the smell test before she raised her glass in a toast. “Na zdrowie,” Kat said.
“Sláinte.” Julia clinked glasses, but held out a beat longer, watching for signs of gagging. When all seemed fine, she risked a sip.
“Cheers!” Andie chirped, oblivious to their concerns. “What about Boring Dorky Elf?”
“He’s not an elf,” Kat huffed. “The man is six two!”
“Are we still talking about Colin Firth?” Andie asked. “Because, if so, I’m standing by Boring Dorky Elf.”
Laughing midswallow, Julia coughed, spewing her cocktail. “BDE stands for Big Dick Energy.”
“Ew,” Andie grimaced, turning to Kat. “That man is old enough to be your grandfather.”
“He is not.”
“Your father, then.”
“I’m not the one dating guys old enough to be my dad,” Kat shot back.
Julia coughed again. That was a low blow.
“Jules?” Kat glanced toward her. “You know I’m right.”
“I’m staying out of this one.” Julia took another sip of her cocktail, deciding it might be best to change the subject. “What’s in this anyway?”
“St. Germain,” Andie said, jaw tight, gaze still on Kat.
“The flavor is unique,” Julia babbled, over the building tension. “Not bad, just different.”
“It’s elderflower,” Kat explained. “And it’s very good.” She lifted her glass in salute. “This is an excellent cocktail.”
Accepting the compliment for the peace offering it was, Andie relaxed. A sly grin lit her features as she said, “If you want a Colin that has some … what was it? Big Dick Energy? Then you gotta go with Colin Farrell.”
“Ha!” Kat crowed. “He’s shorter than Firth.”
“No way.” Andie shook her head and reached for her phone.
“You’re looking up how tall both the Colins are, aren’t you?” Kat demanded.
“Maybe.” Andie tapped her screen, brow furrowing.
“Well?” Kat scooted closer. “Was I right?”
“Fine,” Andie conceded with a deflated groan. “Farrell is shorter.” Hating to lose at anything, she added, “But he’s younger. And his BDE is so strong he seems taller.”
“Five minutes ago, you didn’t even know what BDE was,” Kat scoffed.
“I’m a quick study,” Andie retorted.
Before the battle of the Colins picked up steam, Julia guided her friends toward the couch. “How about we start the movie?” She carried the bowl of pretzels over and hit Play.
Kat set the plate of pita and hummus on the coffee table.
Soon everyone was munching and laughing, sipping and smiling at Bridget’s antics. After refilling their glasses with a second round, Andie sat back down next to Kat and said, “Okay, I can see it.”
“See what?” Kat wondered.
“Your Colin’s big dick.”
A giggle-snort escaped Julia. Kat raised an eyebrow.
“I mean the energy, or whatever.” Andie waved a hand toward the screen. “The BDE. He’s got this confidence. A presence.” She licked the side of her cocktail glass. “It’s sexy.”
“Yeah it is,” Julia agreed, raising her glass to clink against her friends. She’d always had a bit of a thing for tall guys.
“Why can’t we meet someone like that?” Kat wondered. “You know, have an awkward exchange at a holiday party or something and then it turns into love?”
“Because this is real life.” Julia shook her head. “I’ve had plenty of awkward exchanges at holiday parties. And trust me, it doesn’t work that way.”
“But what if it did?” Andie insisted. “What if you could stumble across the love of your life wearing a hilariously horrid sweater at a party, or while walking your dog and the leashes get all tangled.”
“That’s a cartoon, not a rom-com.” Julia’s mouth quirked. “But either way, you’re talking about a fantasy. We don’t get meet-cutes with guys with BDE; we get awkward dates with guys who send us unwanted pics of their trouser shrimp.”
“Maybe it is fantasy, but that’s part of the appeal.” Kat tugged on her braid. “I’m with Andie on this one. If we had a chance to meet someone by accident instead of by app, or if life were a little more like a romantic comedy…”
On the TV screen, the movie was ending, and the conversation stalled as everyone paused to watch Colin Firth’s character kiss Renée Zellweger in the softly falling snow. When he wrapped his coat around them both in the middle of the London street to the tune of a soft, sultry love song, all three girls sighed.
“If life were like a romantic comedy, we’d get more kisses like that,” Kat said.
“Total fantasy.” Julia shook her head. “I’m as likely to find the wardrobe to Narnia as I am to find my own Mark Darcy. Life isn’t like a romantic comedy.” As she stared at the melting ice in the dregs of her drink, an idea came to her. “Now that would make a great piece for TrendList.”
“Let me guess.” Kat smirked. “‘A Dozen Reasons Why Life Isn’t Like a Romantic Comedy.’”
“I was thinking ten, but sure, I bet I could come up with a dozen.”
“Does this mean you’re not getting fired after all?” Andie wondered, collecting their glasses and walking back to the island for refills.
“Laid off,” Julia corrected primly. “And that’s still a very real possibility, but I’ve got to keep doing my job while I have one.”
“What happened to the asset plan?” Kat asked.
“Yeah, you were supposed to give us an update,” Andie reminded her, over the sound of the cocktail shaker.
Julia had intended to keep her pitch problem to herself and focus on enjoying the evening with her friends, but she’d also promised to fill them in. And now that they’d asked … She rubbed a hand over her face.
“Well?” Andie pressed. “Did you do the TADA thing?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And this.” Julia reached for her purse, pulling out a handful of key chains. She tossed one to Kat.
“What is that?” Andie asked.
“Oh, it’s ‘Take Me!’”
Andie blinked. “Take you where?”
“No, you daffodil,” Kat snapped, her amused tone taking out the sting. She held up the key chain. “It’s a new segment on TrendList.” Kat turned her attention back to Julia. “Those videos are all over my social media feed.”
“They’re all over everyone’s social media feed,” Julia agreed. “I talked to my boss, and the bottom line is I need to come up with an idea for a place to review by Monday.”
“As in this Monday?” Andie gasped, handing each of them a fresh cocktail.
Julia resisted the urge to down the whole thing in one gulp. “Yep.”
“Ouch.” Kat winced.
“Yep.” Giving in to temptation, Julia drained her third drink.
“What ideas have you got so far?” Andie wondered.
“Zilch.” Julia shook the glass, ice cubes clinking. “And it’s only a trial run. Which means I don’t get a travel budget, so I need to keep it reasonably local.”
“That’s good news for you, since you hate traveling anyway,” Kat pointed out.
“You would too if you moved around as much as I did when you were a kid.” Julia shook her head. Going to college in Chicago was the first time she’d felt grounded. This apartment was the first place to feel like home, and Kat and Andie were the first friends she’d made that she didn’t have to pack up and leave after a year or two.
“Not to mention you get carsick all the time,” Andie reminded her.
“Not all the time,” Julia protested.
Andie and Kat both stared at her, daring her to deny it. The slight downside of having long-term friends: they knew you too well to let you get away with any bullshit. They’d taken too many vacations together for Julia to dismiss the truth. Planes, trains, automobiles … it didn’t matter what mode of transportation she chose, her motion sickness eventually got the best of her.
Andie frowned, concern creasing her dark brows. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Under other circumstances, the ‘Take Me!’ segment wouldn’t be my top choice, but it’s my best chance to keep this job, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” Julia sighed. “I’ve got to nail this. I really need to wow my boss with something special. Exciting and new.”
“You make it sound like The Love Boat,” Kat said.
Julia blinked at her.
Kat shrugged. “I’ve been watching reruns with my babcia again.”
“That might actually work,” Andie mused.
“You’re kidding, right?” Julia swiveled her attention.
“I don’t mean the actual Love Boat.” Andie laughed. “But maybe there’s something like it. A matchmaking cruise ship on Lake Michigan.”
“Ooh, sign my babcia up for that,” Kat teased.
“Exactly.” Julia made a face. “Even if just the thought of a cruise ship didn’t make me want to hurl, this sounds like an activity for seniors. Which is fine, but I think the ‘Take Me!’ target audience veers a little…”
“More hip and less hip replacement?” Andie suggested.
“Bingo,” Julia said, pointing at Andie.
“Something else my babcia could do on the boat,” Kat teased.
Julia ignored that. “Hey, it’s only Friday. I’ve got all weekend for inspiration to strike.” She held out her empty glass to Andie. “So how about one more round?”
Back at work on Monday, the aftereffects of Friday night’s four elderflower martinis had faded away, but unfortunately Julia was no closer to deciding on a pitch. She stared at the list of options she’d managed to piece together after a weekend spent scouring the internet. Not a single one felt right.
She glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. The pitch meeting with Cleo wasn’t until this afternoon. Maybe if she focused on something else for a bit, inspiration would strike. Flipping the list over, Julia looked at the title she’d scribbled down for the TrendList article, “A Dozen Reasons Why Life Isn’t Like a Romantic Comedy.”
Using the words rom-com and real life as her search terms, Julia started poking around for resources. She was scrolling through a list of movie plot summaries when something caught her eye. A resort a little over an hour north of the city, just over the border in Wisconsin, was advertising a grand reopening with a unique twist.
A crackle of energy zinged through her as she read the description. Touted as the “dream destination for fans of romantic comedies,” the resort’s website promised to make “all your rom-com dreams come true.”
WISH YOUR LIFE COULD BE A LITTLE MORE LIKE A ROMANTIC COMEDY? THEN THIS IS THE PLACE FOR YOU.
“There’s no way this is for real,” Julia muttered. With a snort of skeptical laughter, she couldn’t resist clicking to read more about this “destination experience.”
COME PLAY IN OUR FULLY IMMERSIVE RESORT, WHERE GUESTS ARE INVITED TO STEP INTO THE WORLD OF ROM-COMS.
She flipped through photos of the picturesque lakefront property, and the more Julia read about what this “rom-com resort” entailed, the more she felt like fate was poking her between the shoulder blades. Her journalistic spidey senses began to hum. For someone who didn’t believe in signs, she sure was getting a lot of them lately. The resort was exactly the kind of exciting and new thing she’d been looking for. And it was unquestionably unique. This is the one.
Hallelujah, she’d found it. Her perfect “Take Me!” pitch.
Julia leaned forward in her chair and peeked around the side of her laptop. The door to Cleo’s office was open. She couldn’t just stride over there right now and pitch this idea, could she? Her job—her career—was on the line with this pitch, and she’d done less than fifteen minutes of research, total. Better to wait until this afternoon.
And risk subjecting yourself to more three p.m. stretches?
While Julia appreciated the woman’s quest to live a long, happy, grandbaby-filled life, her own hamstrings were still sore from last week. Andie would say it was a symptom of having a sedentary desk job, and her friend was probably right—Julia did spend too much time on her ass. She vowed to get in better shape … later. First, she was going to get off her sore behind and nail this pitch.
Wincing only slightly, Julia pushed up from her chair and headed for Cleo’s door.
“Julia!” At her knock, Cleo waved her inside. “I thought our meeting was for this afternoon.”
“It was, yes,” Julia began, immediately wondering whether she’d made a mistake. But she was here now, and the only thing to do was soldier on. “I just couldn’t wait to tell you about my idea.” Which wasn’t a lie.
“There’s more of that spunk! I like your enthusiasm.” Her boss gestured to a chair. “Please, sit.”
Deciding she’d made the right choice, and grateful she wouldn’t be fighting for the future of her career while squatting or attempting splits, Julia sat.
“Now then…” Cleo clasped her hands together and rested them on her desk. “Where are you taking me?”
“Hold up,” Kat demanded, waving her chopsticks. “Did you say rom-com resort?”
“Uh-huh.” Julia fiddled with her own chopsticks, still in their little paper wrapper. She was too worked up to eat. She’d wanted to tell her friends about her pitch right after it happened on Monday but had decided to wait until the assignment was approved. And in the end, the timing worked out perfectly. She’d received the official green light this morning. Just in time to share the news with Kat and Andie at their weekly lunch.
“That’s exactly what I said.” Julia reached into her purse for her phone and pulled up the resort’s website.
“Come play at our resort perfect for fans of romantic comedies,” Andie read aloud. She glanced at Julia. “Is this a joke?”
“I know it seems wild. Especially considering we were just talking about this, hypothetically speaking. But it’s legit, I swear.” Julia bounced in the booth, thrumming with adrenaline. “It’s thanks to our conversation Friday night that I found this place.”
“The spyware on our phones is really starting to creep me out.” Kat shook her head.
“Don’t start making tinfoil hats just yet,” Julia teased. “This wasn’t some spammy pop-up ad. I stumbled across it while working on that story about how real life isn’t like a romantic comedy.”
“A dozen reasons,” Andie added helpfully. “I remember.”
“Anyway,” Julia pushed on, “I was doing a web search and this place popped up.”
“Make all your rom-com fantasies come true,” Andie said, reading another line from the website. She raised her eyebrows. “How do they expect to do that?”
“You get to pick from a menu of scenarios popular in romantic comedies.” Julia scrolled down. “See?”
“There’s paintball!” Andie gasped.
“Uh-huh.” Julia pointed at the list. “I think I like karaoke serenade the best.”
“But how does this all work?” Kat asked.
“It’s a simulation … sort of.” Julia paused, thinking through her conversation with the resort owner. They’d talked on the phone yesterday, going over the logistics. Maybe it was because she was really enthusiastic about her new venture, but Mrs. Wackyspoon, or whatever her name was, came across as a bit … odd. The woman had babbled on in a bizarre accent Julia suspected was supposed to be British, proclaiming she was delighted to provide a complimentary stay in exchange for promotional coverage with a review of the resort on “Take Me!”
A good thing, too. The lack of expenses was one of the deciding factors in getting her project approved. “Guests are assigned a character, a role to play, they select their activities, and then the games begin.”
“Sounds fun.” Kat grinned. “Any chance you’re looking for some company on this adventure?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” Julia returned the grin. “Here’s the best part. I managed to score a complimentary stay for all three of us.”
Andie raised her glass in salute. “Impressive.”
“When is this grand opening event happening?” Kat asked.
“Week after next.” Julia looked at her friends. “I know that’s not a lot of warning. Will that work for you?”
“A free stay in a hotel and a chance to spend a week living in a romantic comedy?” Andie whistled. “I’ll find a way to make it work. Most of my players will be busy with end-of-school-year stuff anyway.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem for me, either.” Kat fiddled with the end of her braid. “With Mother’s Day over and prom season wrapping up, things will be slowing down at the shop til wedding season gets rolling. I’m in.”
“So, we’re doing this?” Julia asked, excitement bubbling up again.
“Like we could ever say no.” Andie grinned.
“Now, show me that list of scenarios,” Kat demanded, rubbing her hands together. “Someone told me romantic comedies don’t happen in real life, and I’m ready to prove her wrong.”