Boyfriend by the Book: A feel good romantic comedy

by Briggs, Laura

  I laughed at the memory of this last experience, since half the ingredients had spoiled in the crisper drawer waiting for me to find a free night to cook an elaborate dinner. It hadn’t been my best experience in the kitchen exactly.

  “I’ve done that too,” Levi confessed, with a faint blush. “I got a craving for French food after seeing that movie where they open competing restaurants across the street from each other. What was it called—?”

  “The Hundred-Foot Journey,” I suggested. I had chosen that one for a girl’s night a few months back. My friends thought it sounded like too much cooking, not enough romance, so I ended up watching it alone in front of the TV as my cat tried to steal popcorn from my serving bowl. Like Levi, I had definitely been inspired to cook after I saw it. Buying ingredients for deluxe omelets from the market and setting a place at the table instead of eating on the sofa like I usually did.

  “That’s the one,” Levi said, snapping his fingers. “I liked that movie. Not an action packed film, but good for a quiet afternoon.”

  He hoisted the final package onto the desk. “This one is kind of heavy,” he cautioned.

  It looked heavy. I recognized the recipient's name as a guest who was checking in later that day. He’d requested that any packages for him be left in his room, instead of downstairs. I should go ahead and take it up, now that all the packages were signed for. That way, there was no possibility it would get shelved in the receiving room with the rest of the mail.

  I came around to Levi’s side of the desk. “I have to take this one up to the guest’s room,” I explained. "That's his request."

  Levi started to say something, but I had already picked it up. Or rather, attempted to. It was heavy—much more than I expected. I let out a grunt, my knees trying to buckle as the package pulled me towards the floor.

  In a flash, Levi had caught the box, pulling the weight from my arms in an easy motion that suggested it was a box full of feathers and not of iron scraps as it felt to me. “Are you okay?” he asked, a concerned look in his eyes. As I looked into them, my stomach did a funny, twisty thing.

  He had nice eyes. Warm, hazel-colored eyes that had little specks of green and brown in them if you looked close enough. Which I rarely did, given our business relationship, but since we were roughly a foot apart at this moment, I could see him closer than before. I finally pulled myself together and returned to our actual task.

  “Fine,” I told him, straightening up. I smoothed my uniform to give my hands something to do, then I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t believe you. That box weighs a ton.”

  He laughed. “I think this might be a two-person operation. If you don’t object, I’ll help you take it up in the elevator.”

  “No objection here,” I answered. “Can you watch the desk, Natalia?”

  Natalia, the Regent’s newest receptionist, was twenty-two and had the energy of about five staff members from what I had seen. She was cheerful, quick-thinking, and fluent in both Portuguese and Spanish, thanks to her family’s rich Latin heritage. Giving me a salute, she promised, “I’ve got it covered, Jodi. Take all the time you need.”

  I suspected Natalia thought I had a little crush on Levi. She had remarked on our friendly banter a time or two and said that Levi was charming and funny. She hinted Levi would be a good catch for a lucky girl since he was obviously available. I just hoped he wouldn’t get the meaning behind her smile as I grabbed the key for the room upstairs.

  We were the only ones who boarded the elevator. I punched the button for the fourth floor, as Levi stood next to me, holding the giant box.

  No matter how many times I saw one of the guest suites at the Regent, I was still overwhelmed by its grandeur. The high ceilings and four poster beds, stone fireplaces, and arched doorways spoke of its past without seeming shabby or out-of-date. Levi seemed equally impressed, gazing around the spacious interior with admiration as he set the box on a table near the window.

  “This is really something,” he said. “When is it from—the Victorian days?”

  “Close,” I said. “The Regent was founded in 1908, so there’s a little Victorian influence in the design. It really came into its own in the Jazz age, though. Lots of famous singers came here and movie stars. There were some pretty wild times, from what I’ve heard.”

  “I bet.”

  “Of course, it’s a picture of respectability now,” I assured him, though occasionally some guest might cause a scene if they got offended over something or had too much to drink. Those incidents were few and far between, though. The Regent was every bit the perfect atmosphere its four star rating suggested. “Except for the ghost,” I added.

  “The…what?” Levi raised one eyebrow, as if this was a joke on my part. I grinned.

  “The ghost in 508,” I said, naming the room directly above us. “Legend says its haunted by a chamber maid from the hotel’s founding days. The housekeeping staff swears she dusts the mantel and makes up the bed sometimes. And guests have reported strange knocking sounds and feeling a cold draft. Pretty weird, right?”

  “Very,” he said. Still looking as if he didn’t quite believe me, he asked, “Have you, um, encountered it before?”

  “Nope,” I said. “But I don’t really believe in ghosts, so I’m probably immune to it.”

  Just then, a tremendous thump echoed from the room above. We both jumped—my hand even grabbed onto his arm, our eyes meeting in a look of shared surprise. Then we both started to laugh. Mine had a wobbly sound, my heart pumping from the moment before.

  “Sorry,” I told him, drawing my hand back from his sleeve. His arm had felt strong and reassuring beneath it, so I blushed a little. “That’s probably just the current maid tidying up. I mean, no one is checked into that room, so it has to be her.”

  “Sure,” he said. He winked. “We should probably get out of here, though, just to be on the safe side.” I realized we should have been gone already, since our task was done. Wasting time like this was definitely not something I often did, not on the job.

  Back in the elevator, we were joined by Ms. Dabree, a frequent guest at the Regent. Silver-haired with delicate, bird-like features, she greeted us both with a smile of recognition. “Did you bring any packages for me today?” she asked Levi, hopefully. Ms. Dabree receives almost as much mail as I do, most of it things she forgot to pack for her trip and had her housekeeper mail to her afterward.

  “No, ma’am,” he answered. “I always notice the packages that come for you, because they have such interesting postmarks on them. Usually from overseas.”

  She beamed at the words. “Well, I do have a lot of friends overseas. I spent a year in Florence when I was young, you know. I took up painting for awhile. I still have some of the canvases in my attic at home.” She sighed, as if remembering it fondly. “Well, I hope my parcel arrives by tomorrow,” she continued, in her chatty way. “It has my opera glasses in it. How I forgot to pack them, I don’t know, but I do hope they’ll be here in time for the Romeo and Juliet ballet. The sets are supposed to be breathtaking.”

  Ms. Dabree is a devoted patron of the arts. She books her room at the Regent to coincide with the start of the theatre season, taking in everything from opera to ballet to Broadway. “Don’t you adore Romeo and Juliet?” she asked, turning towards me. “Such a bittersweet love story. So moving. I never really understood the power of it until I saw it performed on stage.”

  “I’ve never seen it performed,” I admitted. Actually, I had never even seen the movie adaptations, not that I wanted to admit that, either. I had read most of the play, and it wasn’t my favorite, not with the hero and heroine ending up dead the moment they were free to be together.

  “I always preferred Shakespeare’s comedies," I answered. "Much Ado About Nothing and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I hoped this would pacify her, but it didn’t.

  “Oh, you have to see Romeo and Juliet on the stage,” she told me. “It’s absolutely heart wrenching,
dear. The passion radiates from the performers' hearts. You’ll cry, I guarantee it.”

  Not unless it’s more convincing than Titanic. I nodded as if in agreement, seeing her face light up in return.

  I glanced at Levi and found him fighting back a smile. Could he have guessed my thoughts somehow? I was sure he couldn’t have, but part of me hoped that he understood. It would be nice to have someone on my side for a change, I thought, as the elevator deposited the three of us in the lobby.

  ~2~

  “The manager wants to see you in her office, Jodi.”

  These words didn’t strike terror into my heart the way they did some people on the Regent’s staff. Even though Ms. Brampton, the hotel’s general manager, had a reputation as a bit of an ice queen, I thought she was fair most of the time. Tough, but mostly fair.

  “Thanks Gretchen,” I said, flashing a smile at the co-worker who informed me of this. Gretchen was working her way through college as a ‘runner’ for me and the hotel’s other concierges. In other words, someone to run the errands we didn’t have time for in our otherwise jam-packed schedules. Without them, I was fairly certain the hotel’s quality of service would crumble in mere days.

  Ms. Brampton’s office door was open, so I gently rapped against the wooden frame. She didn’t turn around, her ashen, pixie-style hair all I could see of her as she read a file from the nearby cabinet.

  “Come in Ms. Nichols,” she called. How did she know it was me? I could almost believe she did have eyes in the back of her head sometimes, as certain other employees were prone to saying in not-so-nice tones in the break room.

  “I’ve just heard from Mr. Stowe,” she said, naming a customer we hosted the week before, a very successful entrepreneur who proved more than a little challenging during his stay.

  He was the one who ordered the helicopter. I wondered now if everything had been up to snuff, or if this was about to turn into a lecture.

  “Oh?” I said, keeping my shoulders back—even though Ms. Brampton hadn’t turned around yet. She did a moment later, swiveling her chair around to reveal an inscrutable smile.

  “He was very pleased, Ms. Nichols,” she told me. “Very complimentary of your work in particular. He told me the Regent will become his choice of hotel in this city from now on.”

  My heart fluttered, a little surge of pride going through me. This was exactly the kind of moment I worked for every day. The kind where I heard that some part of my effort had resulted in a loyal new customer. “That’s good news,” I told her.

  “It is,” she agreed. “And I wanted you to know that I credit you with making it happen. I think it's possible that a bright future waits for you in the hospitality industry, Ms. Nichols.”

  I tried not to beam — or to blush. Ms. Brampton was the very definition of professional and didn’t encourage a lot of emotional displays from her employees. Still, it was impossible not to let some of my happiness show as I went back to my station at the reception desk.

  I was still smiling about it when Levi arrived that morning. Sliding the first package across to me, he asked, “Does that smile mean you’re expecting something great in the mail, or are you just happy to see me?”

  “I’m just having a wonderful day, I guess.” Although I wondered if there was anybody else I would actually want to tell about her compliments. None of my friends would be thrilled to hear about it — then again Levi was just friendly because it was part of his job. Maybe he wouldn't care if suddenly another employee took my place at the desk, for instance.

  “Well, I’m guaranteed to make at least one person’s day, if not yours,” he teased, holding up a parcel with Ms. Dabree’s name printed on it. I had to laugh.

  “You’ll definitely be her hero for this. Romeo and Juliet just wouldn’t be the same without opera glasses.”

  I remembered her enthusiasm yesterday. I knew it was probably a beautiful production, but somehow, I just couldn’t rouse passion for the characters the way she did.

  “What about you?” Levi looked inquisitive. “Big plans for tonight?”

  “Not exactly. I’m hosting another girls’ night with my friends, so I’m stopping at the market for some crackers and cheese. I’ll probably rent a movie online for us to watch. Something a lot more lighthearted than Romeo and Juliet, though. Last time I had to watch Pride and Prejudice.”

  “You’re not a big fan?” He sounded surprised. Probably his dates all loved it, or his girlfriend, if he had one. I was pretty sure he didn’t, though.

  “It’s not bad,” I told him. “I actually really enjoyed the book when I read it in high school. And the movie versions were entertaining. I guess I’m just not as ‘gaga’ over it as everyone else.”

  “But your friends are,” he guessed, grinning slightly at the chagrin in my voice. I grinned back.

  “They love it. And Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, and pretty much anything else with the words ‘classic’ and ‘romance’ in the description.” I smiled, thinking of our silly fight last week. About how my lack of imagination had led to becoming a workaholic with no ability to maintain a love life. “They think it’s strange I don’t get emotional over romantic movies and books,” I told him. “And because I didn’t cry at the end of Titanic.”

  He pretended to look shocked, leaning away from me. “Whoa, that is strange. Maybe you should see someone about that. Make sure you’re not missing a vital organ or something.” We both laughed.

  “That’s how my friends reacted,” I told him. “They seemed pretty worried I might be cold blooded since I wasn’t falling apart over these fictional romances. I guess I’m just too practical for that kind of melodrama.”

  Levi was watching me carefully as I said this. It made me suddenly conscious of the topic we were discussing. We had never talked about romance before, I realized. Or whether either of us was in a relationship. It had never come up in the many conversations we exchanged these past few weeks. Perhaps it seemed odd to him, discussing these kind of feelings with a relative stranger with a hotel desk between them. Though it was mostly silly stuff about movies and books, it seemed more personal somehow.

  Instinctively, I glanced away, busying myself with the forms I had to sign. When I handed them back, Levi looked as if he planned to say something more. But a group of overseas tourists were entering, a few of them taking their place in line behind him at the desk. He stuck the papers on his clipboard again, giving me a smile, as he said, “See you later, Jodi. And good luck with your movie plans tonight.”

  “Thanks—I’ll probably need it.”

  He stepped away, offering me a last smile over his shoulder as he headed for the door. It wasn’t until after he’d driven away that I wondered what he had been planning to say before his goodbye. Even later, I wished I had asked him what it was before it was too late.

  _________________________

  When the girls arrived, I had already piled a decorative plate with the crackers and cheese, and opened a bottle of pink blush wine I had found in the back of the fridge. I was about to suggest we watch the restaurant movie Levi and I had talked about—after all, my friends had still never seen it—but it turned out they had something else in mind. At least, I could see it from the conspiratorial glances exchanged between Kristen and Stephanie as they shed their jackets in my kitchen.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "A surprise," answered Stephanie. "A life-changing one, maybe." Monique, who had come in behind them, gave her a little kick in the ankle.

  “Well, it’s more like an intervention,” Kristen said in return. She giggled slightly as she pulled a gift sack from her tote bag. A ribbon trailed from its handle, shiny with glitter on it. “It’s from all of us, but I’m the one who found it,” she added, shooting a look at Monique and Stephanie.

  “Really? What is it?” I shouldn’t be suspicious. They just looked so…expectant. And giddy. Definitely giddy. It was hard not to think they were up to something. I was willing to bet it wasn't a DVD in
that bag.

  Monique spoke up from the plushy armchair in my living room, saying, “It’s a ‘we-saw-this-and-thought-it-was-perfect-for-you’ kind of gift. Now, stop stalling and open the bag. We think you could really use this.”

  Curious, I reached past the gift paper. My hand gripped something smooth and flat. A book.

  Since Kristen worked as the manager for Book Bound, I wasn’t too surprised this was her choice of gift. But this wasn’t her usual pick from the contemporary romance or women’s fiction aisle. My brows knit together as I read the title splashed across its shiny new book jacket: Reading Relationships: How to Channel Your Inner Heroine to Find Success in Life and Love!

  A relationship book? This was the gift they thought was perfect for me? I turned it over, puzzled. Did they mean this as a joke? It had to be, given our conversation about romance last time.

  I couldn't help but laugh as I read the cover again. Yet I didn’t feel like laughing somehow, because I sensed it wasn't supposed to be funny.

  “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Kristen asked.

  "Perfect?"

  “Exactly what you need," she continued. "I was helping this new employee stock the self-help aisle and there it was. Like a sign, almost.”

  “Um…are you serious?” I scrunched my nose, reading the back of the book. It claimed its readers would receive unique insights on how to connect with themselves and others. The author was a renowned psychologist and motivational speaker who based her theory on female role models in classic novels like Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre.

  All of it sounded like one of those quizzes you take on social media—and about as unlikely to change your life as any of those. “This is a joke, right?” I asked them. I tried not to smile incredulously, but it was still creeping into place as I tugged it back.

  “No, it isn’t,” Stephanie replied. “Honest, Jodi, it’s a real psychology book. It helps women who are…romantically challenged."