Enjoy fast, free delivery, exclusive deals, and award-winning movies & TV shows with Prime
Try Prime
and start saving today with fast, free delivery
Amazon Prime includes:
Fast, FREE Delivery is available to Prime members. To join, select "Try Amazon Prime and start saving today with Fast, FREE Delivery" below the Add to Cart button.
Amazon Prime members enjoy:- Cardmembers earn 5% Back at Amazon.com with a Prime Credit Card.
- Unlimited Free Two-Day Delivery
- Streaming of thousands of movies and TV shows with limited ads on Prime Video.
- A Kindle book to borrow for free each month - with no due dates
- Listen to over 2 million songs and hundreds of playlists
- Unlimited photo storage with anywhere access
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, your membership will automatically upgrade to a monthly membership.
-9% $14.49$14.49
Ships from: Amazon.com Sold by: Amazon.com
$5.70$5.70
Ships from: Amazon Sold by: CYCLE BOOKS
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
OK
Audible sample Sample
Would Like to Meet Paperback – December 3, 2019
Purchase options and add-ons
It's Evie Summers's job to find out. Because if she can't convince her film agency's biggest client, Ezra Chester, to write the romantic-comedy screenplay he owes producers, her career will be over. The catch? He thinks rom-coms are unrealistic--and he'll only put pen to paper if Evie shows him that it's possible to meet a man in real life the way it happens on the big screen.
Cynical Evie might not believe in happily ever after, but she'll do what it takes to save the job that's been her lifeline . . . even if it means reenacting iconic rom-com scenes in public. Spilling orange juice on a cute stranger? No problem. Leaving her number in books all over London to see who calls? Done. With a little help from her well-meaning friends--and Ben and Anette, the adorable father-daughter duo who keep witnessing her humiliations--Evie is determined to prove she can meet a man the way Sally met Harry. But can a workaholic who's given up on love find a meet-cute of her very own?
- Print length368 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherG.P. Putnam's Sons
- Publication dateDecember 3, 2019
- Dimensions5.45 x 0.86 x 8.18 inches
- ISBN-100525542310
- ISBN-13978-0525542315
"Layla" by Colleen Hoover for $7.19
From #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover comes a novel that explores life after tragedy and the enduring spirit of love. | Learn more
Frequently bought together
Similar items that may ship from close to you
Editorial Reviews
Review
“Kept me turning pages way past my bedtime.”—NPR
“Evie is a scrappy, winning heroine....The references to classic films of the genre will delight rom-com fans, as will the sweet romance. The best scenes, though, are with Evie and her three best friends, who have the warmly mocking dynamic of friends in a Richard Curtis film. A lovely, humorous ode to romantic comedies.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Winters’s charming debut combines tropes from classic romantic comedy films to hilarious effect….Winters employs self-aware, genre-savvy characters to expertly balance humor and heart. This adorable romance is a love letter to cinephiles.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Utterly charming…[A] winning tale”—Booklist
"Winters offers a relatable take on modern dating, writing, and working. Movie aficionados, in particular, will enjoy references to iconic rom-com moments as lovable, overworked Evie navigates her own series of meet-cute mishaps."—Library Journal
“A lively, laugh-out-loud story...Debut author Rachel Winters hits all the right notes in Would Like to Meet, a fun and lively millennial rom-com with a heartfelt message that cleverly plays off tropes from a host of contemporary romance movies."—Shelf Awareness
"[An] uplifting (and surprisingly deep) contemporary ode to movie rom-coms…This fiction debut refreshes and cheers the soul."—Christian Science Monitor
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Code Red
INT: A BASEMENT BAR IN SOHO-FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 10 P.M.
EVIE stands in a small crowd of well-dressed twentysomethings, holding a scuffed plastic "glass" of house white wine, nodding in time to the conversation happening around her. She checks her phone, too tipsy to be anywhere near as surreptitious as she thinks she's being.
Two Weeks Earlier
Sarah: I'm going to email the presentation to you all to help your planning session next weekend. Check your inboxes!
Maria: we really don't mind planning your hen do ourselves
Jeremy: which isn't to say that we don't mind planning your hen do
Sarah: but this way you'll KNOW I'll love it. While we're on my wedding, can we talk about your plus-one situation, Evie?
I slipped my phone back into my bag. Sarah had been trying to get me to talk about my "plus-one situation" since she got engaged. As if I had some sort of condition that I'd been ignoring.
As I turned my attention back to the two achingly trendy young women with me in the bar, I noticed two things: 1) Their beautiful, pristine, untouched-by-worry baby skin. And 2) That I was much tipsier than I realized, despite sticking to my strict three-drink rule.
That was the curse of the assistant drinks. Once a month, every assistant working in TV and film talent agencies met in a different yet equally terrible bar in Central London to "network" (i.e., gossip). There was never any food available at these events, though there was always an abundance of a very particular type of white wine (the cheapest). I could only assume everyone else here was too young to have experienced hangovers as adults, and were therefore blissfully unaware of what it's like to wake up feeling like every single one of your twenty-nine years has smacked you in the face.
Myself, on the other hand . . . I had an egg sandwich in my satchel that I was dying to eat, but hadn't yet found an appropriate moment. While my practical side was telling me I needed something to line my stomach, I also conceded that normal people probably don't bring their own sandwiches to networking events.
One of the girls, Jodi, swept the curtain of blond hair from her face and gave me a little smile that made me feel like the young one. I had the feeling she'd just asked me a question. She was an assistant at one of the biggest talent agencies in the business, and one of those people who collected gossip like it was currency.
"What was that, sorry?" I squeezed my plastic wine cup tightly. It wasn't that long ago that I had someone by my side at these events.
"I'm whisking young Geraldine here around to introduce her to the cool kids," Jodi said. She had one of those drawling London accents that made me feel more northern with every syllable.
I turned to the teen with round glasses. Most of her long hair was pulled up into a messy bun, leaving the rest down in the sort of tangled waves that said "Just look at how much I don't care about my appearance." Beneath her overalls she wore a white T-shirt with greta gerwig across it in large black lettering. I immediately wanted one, though I'd never be cool enough to pull it off.
"Who are you interning with?" I asked.
There was a moment of silence.
"Evie, you big nerd," laughed Jodi. "She's an assistant."
"But she's a kid!" I clamped my mouth shut, as if that could somehow take back my words.
Geraldine let out a low, throaty laugh and placed a hand on her chest. "Thank you. I'm almost prehistoric in assistant years." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm actually twenty-three. I was worried everyone would think I was too old."
"You don't look a day over twenty-one" was Jodi's automatic response. I wanted to take Geraldine by the shoulders and tell her she was so young she was practically brand-new. Instead, I took another sip of my wine.
"Geraldine's at Geoffrey and Turner," Jodi said, with a significance that I studiously ignored.
Geoffrey and Turner was a small but respected agency for screen and TV writers. A few years ago they'd been the William Jonathan Montgomery & Sons Agency for Screenwriters' direct rivals. But lately, they'd become the agency of choice for writers looking for prestige, and we had . . . Well, someday we'd get back on track again.
"One of Geraldine's new colleagues, Ritchie, is an old friend of yours, isn't he, Evie?" Jodi pressed. Nothing got by her. Since she'd found out I'd known him back when he was plain old Ricky, she never missed an opportunity to dig for more information. My ex was what was known in the industry as a unicorn, i.e., a single man. Putting him firmly on Jodi's gossip radar. I could have told her that Ricky was the kind of guy who'd make you feel like the luckiest person in the world. Until you were no longer what he wanted. Instead, I kept my smile fixed, as usual giving her nothing.
"Ritchie's amazing," Geraldine gushed. "I'm sure he's going to be made an agent any day now. Everything about him says 'meteoric rise.'"
"Well, he was hardly going to remain an assistant forever," Jodi said, then put a hand on my arm. "Don't worry, you'll get there. You just have a unique situation."
Jodi wasn't wrong, but that wasn't what I was upset about. They wouldn't really promote him yet, would they? My throat tightened.
"Where do you work?" Geraldine asked me. I sighed, snapping myself out of it. She'd find out sooner or later anyway.
"William Jonathan Montgomery and Sons," I said.
Geraldine's eyes widened. "Oh, you're that Evie."
When you were the longest-serving assistant in the industry, word tended to get around.
It was a relief when they decided they needed a refill and headed back to the bar. I pulled out my phone again, wishing it was next Friday already so my friends could be here. Sometimes the miles between us felt more numerous than I could count.
Evie: HELP ME I AM SURROUNDED MY CHILDREN
Maria: where are you?
Evie: assistant drinks
Evie: *BY children
Jeremy: is Dicky there?
Evie: no. He only socializes with agents now
Sarah: it's good for her. IT'S GOOD FOR YOUR CAREER, EVIE
Jeremy: indoor voices, Sarah
Maria: you're an agent in all but name, Evie. You've shown your face. Why don't you head home? Take care of yourself
I tucked the phone away without responding to Maria. As difficult as I sometimes found these events, I had to attend them if I had any hope of one day progressing beyond assistant. Everyone was here with the same purpose: desperate to say the right thing, speak to the right people, make those all-important connections. I used to feel the same way, back when I'd first moved down to London. Just not about agenting.
If my dad could see me now.
He'd be proud, I knew; he'd just be surprised to see me on this side of the business. Wanting to represent screenwriters, instead of being one. He'd wonder what had happened to the girl who'd declared, at the age of twelve, that she was going to be the next Nora Ephron or Dorothy Taylor, who'd acted like writing was as essential as food, or air. Of course, he'd never know what the first agent I ever showed my work to told me.
You just don't have what it takes.
A small shudder ran through me. Normally I could quell any thoughts about my writing days, but something about this evening had made it harder. Seven years as an assistant. Happy anniversary, Evie. Still, I always told myself I was lucky. I couldn't follow my own dream, so now I helped other screenwriters follow theirs. It would all be worthwhile once I was made agent. Monty always told me I wasn't quite ready yet. I just had to find a way to make him see what I was made of.
I squeezed up to the bar beside Jodi to put my empty cup down, just in time to catch the end of what Geraldine was saying.
"I'd never stay in a job for that long." She spotted me standing there. "No offense," she added quickly.
"It isn't Evie's fault," Jodi said. "Her boss, Monty, is a bit of a joke." I bristled at this. Monty was what was known in the industry as the Old Guard. One of the last bastions of the days when most deals were sealed in the bars of private members' clubs. He could still charm a producer when he needed to, but the world had moved on. The tide of enthusiastic young people entering the industry all came with an innate understanding of content. A word that made Monty break out in hives.
"He's brilliant at what he does," I said, knowing I was defending my own experience as much as his.
"We all know your real reason for staying. The work perk." Jodi pronounced it "werk" and the age gap between us became a gulf. "A certain Oscar-winning screenwriter Monty must have solid dirt on to have kept hold of him for so long."
Jodi knew about all the poachable writers as a matter of principle. Though there were some things even she didn't know about Monty's prize client.
Geraldine's eyes gleamed. "You're not talking about Ezra Chester, are you? Oh my God, what's he like? Is he as hot as he looks on Instagram? It's so cute he's dating Monica Reed. She's like ten years older than him, which is so not something he cares about. How's his big film coming along? Didn't he donate half his fee to charity? Tell me everything."
Ezra had become an instant industry darling after winning a screenwriting Oscar three years ago, but it was only when he started dating Hollywood royalty Monica Reed that he claimed celebrity status. Thanks to his appearing on various gossip pages and hotlists, his Instagram account now had more than three hundred thousand followers. It helped that he looked like he belonged on the screen, rather than behind it.
"I can't really say much about the film," I said, smiling to soften my words.
"You're hilarious, Evie," Jodi said, and suddenly I was back in high school, being mocked for putting my hand up in class. "We're all friends here. You can at least tell us if the rumors are true. Does the great Ezra Chester have writer's block?"
"Not even close," I said, trying to ignore how the word "friends" had made something tighten in my chest. We'd seen each other once a month for the last year or so, ever since Jodi had started as an assistant. Did that qualify as a friendship? Part of me hoped it did, because since moving to London I'd found making new friends outside of work all but impossible. And yet . . . the one time the two of us had gone out for a drink, I'd dropped my guard and told her something personal. The next day an assistant I didn't know emailed me to recommend her grief counselor. We hadn't gone out again.
"His charity work is probably taking up his writing time," Geraldine said sympathetically. "He just spent one whole month in South America so he could meet all the children he's raising money for. I don't know how he does it."
"We wonder the same thing," I said neutrally, thinking of the artful shots of the vineyards he'd also managed to visit.
"Tell us something we don't know about Ezra, Evie," Jodi said, widening her eyes, as if we were both irritated by Geraldine. Coconspirators.
"Well," I said, still light-headed from too much cheap booze on an empty stomach. "The truth is that Ezra . . ." I saw Jodi hold her breath. My phone buzzed.
I paused, realizing how easy it would be to tell them; all I had to do was explain why my friends back home call him NOB. Ruining his and the agency's reputation in one fell swoop.
Much to their dismay, I reached into my bag, pulling out the sandwich to get to my phone. Oh, what the hell. I opened the packet and took a generous bite. People who think being an agent is a glamorous career path haven't seen me catching the last train home cradling a loaf of bread so I can eat toast in bed. Jodi cleared her throat, looking embarrassed for me. "Well? Come on, Evie, share."
"Okay," I relented. "The truth is . . ." I paused to quickly polish off the sandwich. They took an impatient step closer. "His next project is going to blow you all away."
A beat. Their faces filled with disbelief. "Right," said Jodi flatly, and this time I was the one left in the cold as she and Geraldine exchanged looks.
That's the thing about being an assistant for seven years. You get really, really good at it.
Ezra might be a NOB, but no one here was ever going to find out why.
I tucked the empty packet back into my bag and retrieved my phone. I had several missed calls from Monty. Knowing him, it could be anything from a client crisis to wanting a suit dry-cleaned.
For once, I was grateful he was high-maintenance. "I'm so sorry, but I have to run. I'm needed back at the office."
Geraldine checked the time on her waterproof Baby-G watch. "But it's after ten p.m.!" she said, bewildered. "On a Friday."
I gave her my sweetest smile. "Welcome to agenting."
ÒCode Red. TheyÕve ambushed me.Ó MontyÕs voice was a whisper but echoed oddly. ÒDid you tell them where I was tonight?Ó
"Who?" I dodged through the Friday-night Dean Street crowds.
"Sam-and-Max. They're here." Sam-and-Max were the producers for Ezra's new script. They did everything as if they were one person, like a hydra someone had tried to kill that had merely divided in two and continued its life as normal. I'd never met two more enthusiastically polite people. It seemed unlikely they'd approach Monty without any warning.
"Are you at the Ash?"
"Aha!" he hissed. "So you did tell them I was here."
I bit back my response. Monty was always at the private members-only club; he'd all but moved in. He spent more time at the Ash than at home, and anyone who knew even the slightest thing about Monty wouldn't look for him at the office.
"And they both just turned up?"
"Yes, they didn't even call first." A noise drowned out his next words. Was that a flush? "You need to get here. Code Red, Evelyn."
Product details
- Publisher : G.P. Putnam's Sons (December 3, 2019)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 368 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0525542310
- ISBN-13 : 978-0525542315
- Item Weight : 10 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.45 x 0.86 x 8.18 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #1,043,069 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #480 in Feel-Good Fiction
- #21,133 in Contemporary Women Fiction
- #24,792 in Romantic Comedy (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Rachel Winters is a book editor living in London. After completing a creative writing degree, she spent most of her twenties working for local papers and online magazines – including writing a weekly column about cats (though she doesn’t own one). It was very Sex and the City. She firmly believes there are few problems that can’t be solved with good friends and very large glasses of wine.
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
The plot appears simple enough – to help a vain, careerist screenwriter write a romantic comedy, his agent’s assistant puts herself through a series of meet-cutes to prove that rom-com tropes exist in real life and are nothing for the newly Oscar-winning writer to look down on. He’s skeptical, fearing it could hurt his suddenly elevated brand, but Evie presses on, manufacturing meet-cute after meet-cute and sending him the results which he, we’re led to believe, is spinning into gold.
To say more would be…criminal? Suffice it to say, Evie runs into all brands of truly negative men, inadvertently screws up the lives of her own circle of friends, and has her entire life turned upside-down by the proceedings.
For me personally, as someone who worked in Hwood for a bit, I can attest that the author nails the dishy, true-life side of the entertainment business. Not only have I watched Oscars cause people to second-guess their next career moves, in one case freezing them for three years, but also had a pal for whom the “makeover” sequence felt like something she’d lived in her own days as an assistant for an older, deeply misogynistic studio exec.
All that to say this is a great, extremely funny book that skewers rom-com tropes even as it embraces them with an open heart.
I would have liked a little more steam/attraction in the book. We hardly get any kissing or longing looks in this one. There was no tension or build up. I also didn’t like how Evie treated her friends, especially Sarah. She was very self-absorbed, admittedly so, and her friends always forgave her very easily.
Reviewed in the United States on September 1, 2021
I would have liked a little more steam/attraction in the book. We hardly get any kissing or longing looks in this one. There was no tension or build up. I also didn’t like how Evie treated her friends, especially Sarah. She was very self-absorbed, admittedly so, and her friends always forgave her very easily.
I finished this book in one day with 3 hours of sleep. It was so captivating I did not sleep on my 6 AM flight.
Top reviews from other countries
Evie is a big believer in romance...to help arrogant writer Ezra, she goes through a series of funny, entertaining, and sometimes humiliating meet-cutes, trying to find the right person and make that person fall in love with her.
But...maybe she found the right guy on her first meet-cute without even realizing it.
I loved this book. It was my favourite read of the month and I have no doubt that I’ll still be naming it as a favourite at the end of the year.
I loved Evie, I loved Ben, I loved Annette, I loved the JEMS. I loved every single one of the meet cutes. I loved the big grand gesture. I just loved this book so bloody much. I laughed, I cried and a laughed through my tears. And I swooned so much. This is a book about friendship and finding the one. This book is the one for me. Love, love, love.