Shit. He was late and had missed getting his name tag. Luke ran a hand through his hair and regretted it immediately. What the hell had Jay put in there? This whole thing was a disaster. He never should have attempted to make changes so late. He should have left things alone and stayed behind the scenes, where he belonged. Pen was right. Luke developed the sims. He organized them. He didn’t play in them. He should turn around, walk back out, and admit to his sister he’d made a mistake. Apologize for freaking out on her and suggest they stick with the original plan.

So what if there was a reviewer for one of the most influential pop culture websites in the country at the resort? He could figure out how to make sure she had a rave-worthy experience without getting directly involved. This secret-spy-mode shit was a ridiculous idea. What had he been thinking?

He was about to abandon the scheme and make his escape when a pair of hazel eyes met his from across the room.

And just like that, Luke knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

CHAPTER 8

JULIA

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.