Gal pals invited on a luxury cruise face rigid supervision, surveillance cameras, drugged drinks, and worse at the hands of a controlling, gold-digging birthday beeyotch.
Aspiring Hollywood actress/cocktail waitress Belle is among the gaggle of friends invited on a Mediterranean cruise to celebrate the birthday of their ultraglamorous pal Summer—all expenses paid by her new boyfriend, John (“not a day over sixty-three to her twenty-six”). But as soon as they start the trip on John’s private jet in Los Angeles, the girls learn that his generosity comes with many extremely irritating strings attached. Belle and Summer’s friendship goes back to high school, but Summer’s self-centered, freeloading, man-eating ways have been a problem all along. Now, it seems, the two are barely on speaking terms—yet, for some reason, Belle grits her teeth and gets onboard with a group that includes Summer’s trashy mother, loudmouth sister, Brittani, Brittani’s sexpot bff, Amythest [sic], and a couple of other thought leaders of the professional eye-candy set. The daily schedule on the ship is rigid and boring, and it is enforced by a pair of scary goons who make the girls go to spin class and lock them in their rooms at night. On top of everything else, there’s no Wi-Fi. Talk about a supposedly fun thing they’ll never do again! As Belle eavesdrops on John’s conversations with various dinner guests, she begins to get a sense of just how dirty his money may be. Meanwhile, a series of flashbacks investigate the fate of a dead ex-boyfriend of Summer’s who could not possibly have committed suicide because she dumped him. St. John’s sizzling debut sparkles with yacht and fashion porn, and smart, decent Belle is easy to root for as the panic reaches its peak.
Blingy, swingy fun plus a well-crafted, socially conscious suspense plot: Anchors aweigh!