Prologue
December
Frankenmuth, Michigan
It was the night before Christmas, and a snowstorm engulfed the tiny tourist town of Frankenmuth, Michigan. Elise Apple worked the cash register as fast as she could, checking out last-minute customers.
This German bier shop on Main Street belonged to her grandparents once, and her great-grandparents before that. She lifted her eyes to look out the window. Frankenmuth looked like the North Pole, as if someone had tipped the town over and shook it inside a snow globe.
“Merry Christmas!” Elise said as she rang up a gift basket. “Frohe Weihnachten!”
She didn’t really speak German. But she’d learned enough growing up here to wish customers a happy holiday in her hometown’s native tongue.
Frankenmuth was a trip back in time. The shopkeepers wore Hausfrau dresses that hadn’t changed much since the nineteenth century. Neither had the Glockenspiel on Main Street, which chimed and danced on the hour. The heart of downtown housed the old Marv Herzog Hotel and the Bavarian Inn. On the basement floors, the locals sold pottery and beautiful handmade dolls. Elise loved Frankenmuth.
But every time the Glockenspiel chimed, it reminded her what little time she had left here. She was about to begin her last semester at Michigan University. Despite her high hopes that college would go out with a bang, it felt anticlimactic.
She watched the shoppers meandering down Main Street after a trip to Bronner’s. Bronner’s was the world’s biggest Christmas store. Elise heard there were billboards counting down the miles to Bronner’s in distant states. Her sorority sisters claimed they saw one in Virginia last year on their way back from Spring Break.
But Elise didn’t visit distant states very often. And anyway, she was skeptical that anyone cared so much about her little world here in Little Bavaria.
As she watched tourists and townspeople strolling in the snow, there was no place she’d rather be.
“Elise, your phone’s ringing,” her brother, Eric, called from the stockroom. He emerged carrying a six-pack of Christmas Ale.
Elise wiped her hands on her bier maid dress, a leftover from Oktoberfest.
“I’ll make it quick,” Elise said to Eric as she ducked into the stock room.
Elise never planned to go on spring break. Three months ago, during winter vacation, her phone rang. It was Carson Vana, her sorority sister from Michigan University.
“Guess what I got for Christmas,” Carson said.
The possibilities were endless. Everyone on the Michigan University campus knew two things about Carson Vana. One, her dad bought her a Land Rover for her twenty-first birthday. Two, she carried a huge Louis Vuitton purse. People joked that it weighed more than she did.
“Something fabulous?” Elise guessed. She felt tempted to add, “Something my parents can’t afford.” But she didn’t enjoy reminding her rich sorority sisters of her humble origins.
Especially Carson.
“You know how Right Now does that Spring Break special every year?” Carson asked. “The one that’s, like, a week of hot girls dancing around a pool.”
“Oh, yeah,” Elise said. “I’ve been watching it since we were in junior high.”
“I haven’t,” Carson retorted. “They used to film it in Panama City or somewhere lame and trashy like that, right?”
“Um, right,” Elise said, twirling her hair nervously and eyeing the cash register. Where was Carson going with this? It wasn’t like her to call out of the blue during break.
“Well, that changed. Right Now bought an entire island off the coast of Florida,” Carson said.
“That’s awesome,” Elise replied. Eric gestured for her to get off the phone.
“Yes. Yes, it is,” Carson said in a theatrical tone. “Think of Vegas, Rodeo Drive, and Miami rolled into one.”
“Wow,” Elise said, not mentioning she’d never been to any of those places.
“And guess what?” Carson continued. “My dad got me tickets. He wants me to bond with my new stepsister.”
Elise heard Carson rolling her eyes through the phone. Her dad was a flashy lawyer who plastered his face on billboards across four counties. And in the grand tradition of flashy lawyers, he’d married for the fourth time last summer.
“I agreed to go under one condition: I get to bring along someone fun,” she said. “You’re invited.”
“Oh my God!” Elise gasped. Then her spirits sank as she remembered the balance of her bank account. “How much will it cost?”
“The hotel room is free, but you’ll want to splurge on hot new outfits,” Carson replied. “It’s your chance to meet everyone at Right Now, so dress to impress.”
“Wow, Carson, I don’t know what to say,” Elise said, glowing with excitement. “Thanks for picking me!”
“Oh, no prob. But don’t post about it on Facebook until break is over,” Carson said. “I can’t wait to tell the girls at the sorority house. They’ll be so jealous.”
January
Right Now Network headquarters, New York City
“We need to step up our game,” said Lanny McNulty, an executive producer at the Right Now Network.
Those seven words weighed heavily on seven producers gathered around the boardroom table. They were brainstorming ways to promote Right Now’s Spring Break special.
“Ten years ago, it was cutting-edge to broadcast a bunch of co-eds grinding in bikinis,” Lanny said. “But now we’re competing in the same time slot as Who Wants to Marry an Heiress? and Celebrity Rides: Bentley Edition.”
Chandler, a blonde producer with a penchant for designer labels, raised her hand.
“I’m a hundred percent confident that our new resort will boost ratings,” she announced. “Actually, make that a hundred and ten percent. This new resort is going to be epic. I’m so glad Esmeralda Island turned out to be the ideal location.”
It was shameless self-promotion. Chandler headed the scouting committee to find a location for Right Now’s new resort. She was the office suck-up, the cutthroat co-worker determined to be CEO one day. But the rest of the team had to concede that the resort was spectacular.
Right Now once hosted Spring Break in college meccas, like Daytona Beach and Panama City. But two years ago, they purchased the better part of an island off the coast of Florida. Esmeralda Island used to boast nothing but a paper mill and a small blue-collar town. Its only bragging point was long stretches of white, sandy beaches.
The recession hit the locals hard, making the buy-out easy. Right Now transformed the island into a giant college playground. The network expected a record-breaking crowd in March.
“Tell me how else you’ll make this Spring Break unforgettable,” Lanny said. “Something bolder, fresher…hotter.”
“Like that Kanye West song,” Chandler said. “Harder, better, faster, stronger...” Her voice was awful, a nasally vocal fry that might as well be fingernails on a chalkboard.
Lanny shot her the evil eye, and Chandler’s impromptu performance came to a screeching halt. He was in no mood for jokes today.
Lanny stared at Jay Mack, a rookie producer only one year on the job.
“Jay, do you care to add your two cents?” Lanny asked. “You’re never short on ideas, even though you spent your own Spring Break at a strip mall in Minnesota.”
“Once again, Lanny, I’m not from Minnesota,” Jay shot back. He was new, but talking back to Lanny didn’t faze him.
“Why don’t we get some of our reality stars to hype Spring Break for us?” Jay suggested. “We can get them to perform as hosts. You know--judge bikini dance contests, interview drunk people, et cetera. They get publicity. We get publicity. Everyone wins.”
Lanny thought for a second.
“That’s an excellent idea,” he said. “Chandler, give Kandi Kardeza a call right away to see if she’s available the second week in March.”
Lanny, looking recharged by Jay’s suggestion, ended the meeting. “Good work, team,” he said. “Now get to work making this Spring Break legendary.”
As Jay sank into his desk chair, he wished he’d never made his suggestion. Another show featuring the Kardezas was the last thing the world needed. When would people say, “Enough is enough?” Every gossip rag plastered their faces on the cover. Their reality show, Kardeza Family Values, was a national obsession. No one in America recalled exactly how they got famous. Most people remembered it was when Kallista Kardeza made a sex tape.
Jay couldn’t stand the Kardezas. But he had to give them credit for one thing: they never ran out of zany new ways to get America talking. About them. All the time. Jay imagined the entire family gathered around the breakfast table in the morning. Over coffee, they’d kick around ideas about how they could become the trending story of the day. Nothing was off-limits.
Last week, Kallista’s latest nude photo shoot went viral and “broke the Internet.” Jay finally asked his colleagues, “Is anyone else sick of these people?”
They responded with blank stares and clucks of disapproval. At the Right Now Network, Jay was the only one.
“Man, I hate this job,” Jay sighed to himself. Then he picked up the phone to make a furtive call, looking around the corner to make sure no one would overhear.
The phone rang three times before going to voicemail.
“Hey,” Jay said after the familiar greeting ended. “The producers are turning Spring Break into another Kardeza spin-off. A little sabotage would serve this network right.”
As he hung up, he heard a pair of stilettos clanging against the floor. It was Kandi Kardeza, sauntering into network headquarters like she owned the place.
“So you want an unforgettable Spring Break, do you?” she purred to Lanny and Chandler. “Honey, you called the right person.”
She pulled out a file folder and set it on the conference room desk.
“What is that?” Lanny asked, sounding leery. The Kardeza’s publicity stunts were sometimes over-the-top, even for him.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a tight, Botoxed smile. “This is going to be the wildest Spring Break ever.”
