Page 83 of The Player's Obsession

“Yeah, I hope we don’t lose our hearing. But I like their vibe.”

Oliver walks me to an elevator, presses the button, and when the doors open, it’s empty.

“Me too. I grew up listening to U2. I wonder if the wedding party organized it?”

“Doubtful. This area of Maine is growing, and it's great publicity for the hotel.”

“I’m sure.”

We step off on the top floor and immediately hear a warm-up band. We check in at a nearby table and get a wristband to wear before we’re allowed to enter. Oliver has a serious brain fog when it comes to details. He’s had the wedding invitation and itinerary for months, and yet he forgets there’s a band playing.

“Lemme tell Travis and Darrel.”

He pulls his phone out and sends a text.

“They are on their way.”

We circle the room and pick from tables full of noisemakers, hats of all sizes and shapes, and those huge sunglasses people wear at the ball drop in Times Square.

The ceiling is covered with balloons. They are festive but detract from the elegant décor. The enormous chandelier suspended in the center of the room is the only evidence of the Renaissance era murals and sculptured crown molding that decorate the high-domed ceiling.

Our friends join us, and after we hug and wish each other Happy New Year, the emcee introduces the warm-up band, and the night officially kicks off.

By the time the cover band starts, even the men are dancing. Oliver demonstrates some Travolta moves, and we laugh and sing together on the dance floor. My voice is fading from hollering the lyrics, but I don’t care. The champagne is kicking in and I’m in heaven. The group might be a cover band, but tonight will forever be etched in my mind as the best concert I’ve ever attended.

The guys take a break. Rose, Stephanie, and I carry on in their absence. When the men return, Oliver has a bottle of water for me, takes me in his arms, and walks me off the dance floor, telling me I need to catch my breath.

He’s right. I’m sweating and a bit dehydrated. We sit and people-watch. When it’s a few minutes before midnight, the waiters circulate with trays of champagne. We don our pointy hats and take pictures of us with our friends. At midnight, the balloons drop, and the singing of Auld Lang Syne begins. Oliver and I kiss the kiss intimate lovers share.

I’m Cinder-freaking-rella, and I don’t want the night to end. I’m on cloud nine, and my feet don’t even touch the ground. As soon as Oliver pays me the balance of what’s owed on our deal, my past will be in the rearview mirror. My future looks brighter than ever, and I’m falling in love with Oliver.

CHAPTER33

Oliver

The New Year’s Eve Gala was a blast. We finally make it back to our hotel room at one in the morning. I hand Penelope two aspirin and a bottle of water before we fall into bed. I hope her voice returns and we don’t have hangovers tomorrow. It won’t be the first wedding I’ve attended with a pounding headache, but I don’t want that for Penelope. She’s not used to drinking this much.

The alarm goes off at ten, and the wedding is at noon. I call room service and order fried potatoes, bacon, eggs, and sausage.

When all the food shows up, Penelope looks at me like I’ve overdone it again. We manage to fit all the dishes on a table near the window. It’s a nice spot to sit and enjoy the view of the courtyard while we eat.

“The best cure for a hangover is greasy food. It’s even on the menu at the local omelet house as the Hangover Four-egg Omelet with sausage, potatoes, and over-easy eggs on top.”

“It sounds like a gastrointestinal nightmare,” she replies as she nibbles at some bacon.

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

She raises her eyebrows to challenge me. Her voice is back but still raspy.

“I’ll win this round, I know hangovers. I’ve been a football player long enough to have partied more than I care to admit.”

“You have a point.” She refills our coffee cups as I pour sausage gravy over everything on our plates.

“If I keep eating like this, I’ll gain fifteen pounds this weekend. It’s not fair, you can burn off the calories at the gym and practice.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can think of more ways than one for you to burn off those extra calories.” I smirk.

She laughs and coughs on her food. I pound her on her back to help it go down.

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