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Walking into Becca's studio apartment, I'm greeted by the sound of Mason belting out 🎶Sweet Caroline, ba-ba-ba. Good times never seemed so good 🎶

I waste no time joining in on the fun, yelling and fist pumping, "so good, so good, so good!"

Mason Barnes is the husband of my close friend Hannah, and she's a fellow Georgia peach. Her and Mason make an adorable couple. They're like Pooh and Tigger, only with a lot more PDA.

Hannah is sweet, lovable, and enjoys sitting around eating stuff she proclaims she probably shouldn't. Mason, on the other hand, is bouncing off the walls with energy. He has two speeds...warp...or asleep. I love Mason, but after a full evening with him I'm usually exhausted. He has the energy of a sugar infused five-year-old chugging Red Bull's.

"Emmy!" Mason yells, after abandoning the mic, and trapping me in a bear hug. He's all sweaty from his enthusiastic performance, and it's like embracing a wet wipe.

"How's the newest member of the corporate finance world?" Mason asks, and everyone's attention is focused on me.

I wriggle out of his grasp, shrieking, "Yuck, now my new shirt is covered in your sweat."

"Sweating is good for the skin, that's what gives me my healthy glow," Mason jokes, and wipes his moist forehead with his sleeve.

"Come on, tell us about the new job," Mason's sister, Olivia, chimes in.

I absolutely adore Olivia. She's one of those people who is always in a good mood. Everyone likes her, and she likes everyone. Olivia is the 'Switzerland' of people, queen of the neutral zone. Also, she laughs at everything. If you have a problem with Olivia, take a long, hard look in the mirror, because I'm betting the problem lies with you.

"What I think Olivia is trying to get at..." Becca begins. "...is that we want to know all about this new handsome boss of yours."

"No," Olivia protests, as she swivels on her stool. "I actually wanna know how you like your new job, not boss. Becca said the pay is awesome."

"Yeah the pay is ah•maze•ing," I draw out. "And so far the work is pretty straightforward clerical stuff. And yes, there might be a little office eye candy. But I'm trying to distract myself from it. I'm thinking of starting this new thing where every time I gawk at him, I pinch myself really hard. Like my own twisted version of Pavlov's dog."

"Hmmm...so instead of a bell and a treat, ogle your boss and get a pinch?" Mason simplifies for everyone. "I appreciate the self-destructive approach."

My plan sounded way more rational in my head. Mason's agreement is making me rethink the future effectiveness. Two rules to follow in connection with Mason Barnes: never take him shopping, or you'll come back penniless with stuff you didn't need. And: if Mason says it's a good idea, nope, it's not. Just trust me on this. Unless you want to end up in the back of a cab in Connecticut, with a homeless man dressed as a cowboy, and a basket full of puppies. A very long, very true story...

"I just finished work, so I'd rather not spend all night talking about it," I plead with my group of friends and sum up. "New job good, money good, Emmy happy...now who's up next?"

I stare around the room at my little group of misfits, and can't help but smile. Besides my bestie Becca, along with Mason and Hannah, and sweet Olivia, tonight's Karaoke extravaganza is attended by Dara and her husband Brix. Not his real name, but his real name is a mystery neither him nor Dara will give up. We have Sherlock Holmes'ed it, and still nothing. We went as far as stealing the man's wallet. (Not my proudest moment) Needless to say, the sheer joy he gets from us dying to know, is enough to keep his real name locked away like Fort Knox.

And yep, he's one of the few people cool enough to pull off a nickname. He's a researcher and filmographer and pretty much been all over the world.

Becca's apartment door swings open. "Sorry mates! I know I'm super late," apologizes Noah, carrying chips and salsa. "Please tell me I didn't miss Mason singing 'Barbie Girl'."

Noah is a walking advertisement for 'clothes can make the man', because if he didn't dress so trendy he might just look like an average joe. But his London origins don't allow for anything less than impeccable taste in clothing. His accent is also an adorable bonus. He's single, but Becca and Olivia are in constant rivalry for his attention. Which I find odd given their differences. The sweet and meek, Olivia, against the funny, sarcastic, sometimes brash, Becca, liking the same guy. I'm betting it's the accent. A British accent is the girl version of beer-goggles.

"Hey, glad you made it," Becca greets, giving a side hug, and taking the chips and salsa out of his hands.

"Sorry dude, 'Barbie Girl' was a good three songs ago," Mason disappoints, and brings Noah in for one of those weird handshake/hug things guys do. "But I refused to do 'Islands in the Stream' until you got here. And I might even let you be Dolly tonight." Mason winks and wiggles his expressive eyebrows.

Noah claps and rubs his hands together, "Now, the party really starts."

After a generous collection of performances, including Brix and Dara's version of 'Love Shack' by the B52's, and my own pitchy rendition of Miley Cyrus, we all settled comfortably around the living room. Not surprisingly, Noah is flanked by Becca and Olivia on the two seater sofa.

"So, I'm organizing this citywide scavenger hunt for work," Noah tells us. "It's some advertising stunt for one of our new clients...an advanced search engine site or whatnot, with dreams of being the next google."

"That's so neat," Olivia pipes up, having been low-key most of the evening.

"Yeah, it's been a trip. Anywho, point is, I expect each of you to spread the word AND I also expect your full participation."

Hannah and Brix groan, while their extroverted spouses champion the cause.

"Come on, honey," Mason chides Hannah. "Scavenger hunts are awesome! And we can solve all the little clues together!" She gives him a slight frown. "Benson and Stabler?" Her frown deepens. "Bones and Booth?" That a boy, Mason.

"Fine," Hannah concedes. "Count us in."

"Brilliant!" Noah is now looking around the room expectantly. "Brix? Dara?"

"We're in," Dara answers for the both of them, despite Brix's wordless protests.

"All the single ladies, all the single ladies," Noah sings, doing the Beyoncé hand gesture, while looking at the three unconfirmed invitees.

Becca is the first to respond, "Scavenger hunts are for Boy Scouts, do I look like a Boy Scout?"

"No, but what if I promise to give you a participation badge?"

Becca never says no to Noah, he's like free concert tickets to her favorite band. I'm guessing this is her version of playing hard to get.

Noah is a tough nut to crack. He treats all three of us with equal friendliness. I've always suspected he's pining away for some girl across the pond. In my daydream, his long-distance love is a tiny little thing that wears those crazy-shaped giant hats that all British royals wear. She has a strong cockney accent and says things like 'cheerio' and 'ello gov'na'. Did I mention daydream girl also plays polo?

Real girl or imagined, Olivia and Becca haven't seemed to catch onto his platonic vibes. I've expressed my opinion to them both on the subject, but there's no 'i' in denial. *smirks*

"I'm down for the scavenger hunt as long as these two," Becca points to me and Olivia. "...do it too. And no competitiveness. No way I'm running around the city like a crazed lunatic."

"But darlin'," I tease. "You already do that. Remember when Sephora was handing out free travel sizes of your favorite mascara? You turned us into the Bonnie and Clyde of cosmetics."

That comment earned me one decorative pillow straight to the face. Becca possesses impeccable accuracy, and I have zero stealth. Needless to say, ouch! I give a pathetic attempt at retaliation, which flies straight over her head. I promise, a snake could throw better than me. Goodbye Major League dreams...

"You can count me in," Olivia says, while sweetly raising her hand as if we're in kindergarten class. But, who am I to judge? I just threw a pillow at my friends head. Not exactly a pillar of maturity here.

"Lovely! Emmyyyy?" Noah drawls out my name, as an unspoken question.

"Yes, yes. I'm in, as long as it doesn't interfere with my new job," I amend.

"Brilliant! Splendid!" he exclaims, and I wonder if he is purposely trying to sound like he belongs on a red double-decker bus.

"I'm pumped!" Mason shouts, doing some odd form of air boxing. "When is this thing?"

"Not too far off," Noah informs, and stretches his arms up behind his head. Both Becca and Olivia's eyes watch him with advanced interest. Either he is blind, or could not care less about their obvious perusal.

"I'll send you all the text invite. And remember, spread the word. The more participants, the better I look to my cranky boss."

Noah receives a round of agreements.

And now, I'm officially signed up for a NYC scavenger hunt. Fabulous...

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