A little before six that evening, unpacked and refreshed, the girls gathered in the hall outside their rooms.
“Shall we head downstairs?” Kat asked in an exaggerated clipped British accent.
“What’s wrong with your voice?” Andie wondered.
“I think she’s pretending to be Bridget,” Julia hazarded a guess.
“Precisely, dear gel,” Kat confirmed regally.
“You do know ‘Bridget Jones’ took place in the twenty-first century, right?” Andie asked. “Very early in the century, I admit. But still.”
Kat lifted her chin like a haughty English aristocrat. “I fail to see your point.”
“Well that’s obvious.” Andie rolled her eyes. “You sound like someone from a BBC costume drama.”
“Move along, you two. That’s enough.” Julia marched them down the hall to the elevators. “It’s time to mix and mingle.” Downstairs in the lobby they followed signs for the Rom-Com Reception and joined the line in front of a small table outside the door to one of the hotel’s ballrooms. A pretty girl who looked to be in her early twenties was checking people in.
Something about her face seemed familiar. It niggled at Julia enough that when she reached the front of the line she couldn’t resist asking. “I’m sorry,” she smiled politely, “but have we met before?”
“I don’t think so.” The girl returned the smile. “It’s nice to meet you, though. I’m Penelope, I’ll be your GM.”
Julia glanced at Andie.
“Game master,” Andie whispered.
Ah. “Hi, Penelope. I’m—”
The girl put her finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t tell me your name.” She winked. “Not your real one, anyway. Who are you supposed to be for the week?”
“Oh.” Julia hesitated, mind going blank. “Um. I’m Bridget.”
Kat moved closer. “No, I’m Bridget.”
“Right.” Julia winced.
“It can be a bit confusing at first.” Penelope smiled in understanding.
Andie jumped in, saving her. “She’s Meg. And I’m Carrie.”
“Got it.” Penelope pulled three name tags from a file box in front of her. “Before I can give you these, I need to ask you to please hand over your cell phones.”
“You want me to do what now?” Andie wondered.
“All players must turn in their mobile devices before they will be allowed to participate in the game. Don’t worry…” Penelope calmly reassured them. “The hotel will keep them safe and secure in a lockbox.”
Julia couldn’t resist checking her messages one last time before giving her phone up. She wasn’t expecting any updates from TrendList, but if her boss happened to reach out, she wanted to make sure she responded.
“Anything important?” Andie asked.
“Nope.” She shook her head. “It’s just weird to think I’ll be without my phone for the entire week.”
“Amazing how attached we become to these things, huh?” Kat turned to Penelope. “Hey, um, what if we promise to leave our ‘mobile devices’ in our hotel room?”
“How good are you at resisting temptation?” Penelope asked, gray eyes twinkling.
“Not great,” Kat admitted, reluctantly handing over her phone.
“Thank you.” Penelope smiled kindly. “If it helps, you’re allowed to check your devices at any time. Players who wish to use their phone may request to access it from the lockbox, but they will be asked to remain in a secure location and to return the phone to the box when finished.”
“Whoa,” Julia exhaled in surprise.
“I know it seems a little extreme,” Penelope continued.
“A little?” Kat muttered.
“Personally, I love the idea of spending time meeting people without the distraction of phones,” Andie said as she turned hers in.
“Exactly.” Penelope leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. “There is some rhyme to our reason here. One of the main benefits of this experience is the chance to take a break from regular daily life. Without the constant distraction of their phones, players will be more present, live in the moment. Have real interactions with each other.”
“And hey,” Andie said, “as an added bonus, no phones means no dick pics for a week!”
“Imagine that.” Julia grinned.
“I’ll add that to the list of perks.” Penelope laughed. “And remember, should you need your phone for any reason, all you have to do is visit the concierge desk and they will set you up.” Penelope handed each of them their name tag. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Again, Julia had the impression they’d met before, but she brushed it aside and took the name tag the girl handed her. She waited for Andie and Kat to get theirs, too, and once they all had them pinned on, they headed into the reception together.
Julia glanced around the room, relieved to see it had already started to fill with a variety of people. She hadn’t known what to expect, wasn’t really sure what kind of people would be interested in a resort that promised an immersive rom-com experience. She’d had a vague sense it would be mostly women in their late twenties to early forties.
But now she realized that had been narrow-minded of her. And shortsighted. It was a good thing her initial expectations had been wrong, since the best location choice for a “Take Me!” piece would be a place that appealed to the interests of as many people as possible.
With that thought fresh in her mind, Julia began taking mental notes as people of a variety of ages and genders milled around the room—some alone, some in groups. Her attention snagged on a woman in an outfit that defied description. “Whoa.” Julia swiveled her head toward the front of the room. “You two need to check this out.”
Andie and Kat turned to follow the direction of her gaze.
“Whoa!” Kat’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “That’s a lot of pink … even for me.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I thought we weren’t supposed to be wearing costumes.”
“Maybe it’s not a costume,” Andie whispered back, unable to stop staring.
“You know, I’m guessing it’s the owner,” Julia mused. “Mrs. Wackyspoon or something…”
“Greetings, gentle guests!” they heard the woman declare in an overblown British accent that rivaled Kat’s. “I’m Mrs. Weatherfork.”
“Close enough,” Julia mumbled.
“And her outfit certainly is wacky,” Andie added, while Kat tittered.
“Quiet,” Julia ordered under her breath. “She’s the one responsible for comping our stay.”
That shut them up. They watched as Mrs. Weatherfork continued meandering through the crowd, greeting people as she went. Julia was still absorbing the impact of the resort owner’s bizarre costume when she realized several dogs were scampering around the woman’s feet. “Where did those corgis come from?”
“Under her skirt?” Andie suggested. “There’s so much material, she looks like she could keep a whole kennel up there.”
“Andie!” Julia chided. But she couldn’t keep a giggle from escaping. It was true. The woman was wearing an impressively voluminous gown, frothy folds of bright pink floating all around her as she approached them.
“Ah, ladies. Good evening.” The woman bowed her head and did an elaborate curtsy.
Julia glanced at her friends. They looked as bewildered as she felt. Nothing to do but wing it. She pasted a polite smile on her face. “Good evening,” she replied, and tried to copy whatever that bow/curtsy thing was. Beside her, Andie and Kat attempted to do the same. It was a miracle they avoided poking someone’s eye out. Good thing this wasn’t one of those Jane Austen reenactments or they’d be hopelessly lost.
“Mrs. Miranda Constance Eugenia Weatherfork. At your service. I’m the owner of this fine abode.” She waved her hand, indicating the resort at large.
“It’s absolutely charming,” Kat cooed, her accent so thick now it seemed to drag each vowel into its own syllable.
Julia and Andie shared a glance, silently daring each other not to laugh.
“How are you enjoying yourselves so far?” Mrs. Weatherfork asked.
“Um, so far, so good.” Julia pressed her lips together, turning her attention away from Andie before she broke first.
“And your lodgings. Are they to your satisfaction?”
“Quite satisfactory, indeed,” Kat replied regally. “Thank you.” For some inexplicable reason she curtsied again.
“I’m curious,” Julia asked, careful to keep her voice casual, “what inspired you to develop a resort theme based on romantic comedies?”
“My husband.”
“That’s sweet.” Julia smiled.
“The buffoon is always making fun of them.”
“Oh.” Her smile faded.
“I adore romantic comedies. They bring me such joy.” She clutched at her silk-covered bosom. “It was my greatest wish to experience what it was like to be in one.”
“Understandable,” Andie said.
“Well, my Harold doesn’t understand. Thought I was a ninny for wanting to live in a fantasyland. I decided then and there I would find a way to prove to him and the world that it’s possible.”
“Bully for you!” Kat cheered, clapping her hands like she was at a golf tournament.
“Thank you, my dear.” The woman nodded graciously. “I hope you all enjoy your stay here at Notting Hill.”
“We plan to,” Andie said.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Mrs. Weatherfork added, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Of course I want you to have fun, but remember to respect the boundaries of the game.”
“Of course.” Kat empathized solemnly. After a beat she asked, “What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means no engaging in hanky-panky with my employees,” Mrs. Weatherfork warned. “I’m not running that type of establishment.” She sighed wistfully. “Unfortunately, my lawyer told me I couldn’t.” Gathering her voluminous skirt, she bade them good evening and sailed on to greet the next cluster of guests.
“That woman is officially my hero.” Andie chuckled in admiration as Mrs. Weatherfork swept past them, gown fluttering behind her, fluffy-butted corgis in tow.
“She is quite the character,” Julia remarked, taking out her notepad and summarizing her observations about the resort’s colorful owner.
“She’s definitely life goals,” Kat agreed. “Put that thing away.” She smacked at Julia’s notepad. “This is supposed to be a cocktail hour, and for some reason I don’t have a drink in my hand.” She tilted her chin toward the bar. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”
While the bartender filled their order, Julia took a moment to scan the room.
“Looking for your shirtless man from the beach?” Andie whispered.
“What? No,” Julia sputtered. She hadn’t been. But now that Andie mentioned it, Julia couldn’t resist scanning the room once more.
“You probably won’t recognize him with his shirt on,” Andie teased.
“He was wearing a shirt when I first saw him.”
“Was he now?” Andie purred. “Then how did his shirt come off?”
“Whose shirt is off?” Kat asked. “What are we talking about?”
“Julia’s meet-cute mystery man.”
“He’s not a mystery man. He said his name is Luke.”
“Is he part of this thing?” Kat studied the crowd. As if she’d be able to recognize someone she’d never seen before.
“I think so. He said he was staying at the resort.”
“Did he?” Andie challenged. “You asked, but I don’t recall him answering,”
“He walked back to the hotel with us.”
“Yeah, and then took off like a bat out of hell as soon as we got here.” Andie dropped her voice. “Maybe he’s a fugitive or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Julia snorted. “Wrong movie genre.”
Andie leaned toward Kat, hand cupped over her mouth as she whispered in an exaggerated tone, “When I found them together, Jules looked like she was just about to kiss him.”
“I was not just about to kiss him.” Had I been about to kiss him? Julia replayed that moment on the beach, the way his gaze had drifted to her lips, gray eyes focused, so intense that a shiver had run down her spine. She swallowed. “Okay, maybe I was thinking about kissing him.”
“And I did mention he was half-naked, right?” Andie added.
“Oh my God, he wasn’t naked. He just had his shirt off,” Julia corrected, exasperated.
“Sounds very romantic to me,” Kat cooed. She placed her elbows on the bar, chin in her hands, lashes fluttering up at Julia in feigned flirtation.
“His shirt was off because a bird had just taken a crap on it.”
“Oh.” Kat wrinkled her nose and straightened. “That’s not so romantic.”
“It wasn’t romantic.” Julia pictured the moment with Luke on the beach. “It was funny, and a little strange.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Though there was something sweet about it too,” she admitted.
“Aw!” Kat cooed. “Andie’s right. This really does sound like a meet-cute straight out of a movie.”
“Maybe he’s not a guest but one of the actors,” Andie suggested.
“That would make sense, I guess.” Julia digested the idea, heart sinking. It figures. For the first time in her life she had unexpectedly met someone in a weird but delightful way that felt exactly like she’d imagined it would in a romantic comedy, and it would be just her Murphy’s Law brand of bad luck if the whole thing turned out not to be real after all.
The unwelcome notion hovered like a dark cloud over her thoughts. What if their encounter today wasn’t unexpected? She was at a place that promised to provide exactly that kind of experience, after all.
If so, they were doing an A-plus job so far.
But how would anyone have known ahead of time that she was going to get carsick on the drive and go for a walk by the lake the moment she arrived? Luke had definitely been on the beach before her. And the whole thing with the seagull—that couldn’t have been planned … could it?
“Can you train a seagull?”
Andie and Kat gaped at her.
“Never mind.” Julia picked up her glass and turned, resting her back against the bar as she sucked down half her espresso martini, irritated with herself for fixating on some guy who probably wasn’t even who he said he was. The depressing thought had barely wormed its way into her thoughts when she glanced up.
And up.
Straight into the pair of gray eyes she’d been fixating on.