EMBER
New Year's Eve in Vegas was Collette's idea. The boys had an away game here over New Year’s Eve, and she suggested we all fly out and ring in the new year together. And once the suggestion reached the girls’ chat, the decision was made, and here we are.
Harper and Issy sorted the penthouse, which is not so much a hotel room as it is a small country.
Two full floors of glass and marble and impossible views of the Strip stretching out in every direction.
The living area alone could host a small wedding.
There’s a sunken lounge with round chaises, a glass dining table that seats twelve, a wet bar stocked like a nightclub, and floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the entire city.
Crystal-encrusted wall textures catch the light, and there’s a grand piano nobody can play sitting in the corner for decoration.
Upstairs, there are multiple bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, bigger than my first apartment.
The master has a bathtub you could hold a board meeting in, and a private terrace with a fire pit, outdoor daybeds that look straight down the Strip, and a plunge pool.
Harper waved a hand at all of it like it was nothing and said, “Welcome to Vegas, ladies.”
I’ve never stayed in Vegas like this.
Jo and Collette are not enjoying this luxury as they are staying over at the boys’ hotel, because for them this is a work trip, not a party.
So, it’s just us girls in the penthouse, Harper with Bastien, Issy, Violetta, Evelina, Cassidy, and me. We are so lucky that Harper used her private plane to get us here quickly. We’ve been drinking on the plane, and now we’re at the hotel with a full staff to cater to our whims.
Set on the glass dining room table is a canapé buffet featuring tiny tuna tartare cones, crispy chicken and waffle skewers with a maple drizzle, mini beef sliders, roasted vegetable tartlets, mini baked potatoes with sour cream and chives, and little spoons of truffle mac and cheese.
There’s a cheeseboard the size of a small country, fresh oysters and caviar on ice, a fruit platter, and a whole tier of desserts that look too pretty to eat.
Then there are silver buckets full of champagne ready for us as well as a selection of fresh juices and mocktails plus the full stocked bar.
“And this is all included?” Cassidy whispers to me, looking at the bar.
“I think so, otherwise, that’s one hell of a mini bar tab.” We giggle.
I’m getting used to this life, it’s not too bad.
“I want to raise a glass,” Harper says, sitting at the head of the table.
“Congratulations on your divorces, ladies, and the newest chapter of your lives.
I know this isn't where you thought your lives were going, but ...” she smirks, “I think it suits you both. I hope the next year brings you both everything you have ever dreamed of and lots of dick.”
The girls all cheer, and I feel the love in the room.
“So, what’s the drill?” Evelina asks.
“Collette has rink side tickets for the game tonight, which is always fun. Vegas games are always wild, and it's New Year's Eve, so it'll be chaos. Then, she's organized a VIP booth for us in a club after so we can see the new year in properly,” Issy explains.
“And then tomorrow we are going shopping.” Harper squeals. “And it’s my shout, ladies. You’re New Yorkers now, and I love you both, but you do still look like you girls have been dropped into the city from the Midwest.”
“Harper!” Issy exclaims.
“Hey, I’m being truthful with them. You know how cutthroat the city is, and they want to decorate the interiors of New York’s elite. They will chew them up and spit them out if they think they can,” Harper states. “You know we are the nice ones in town,” she tells Issy.
“She’s not wrong, Issy,” Violetta adds. “You know these women and how catty they can be. We are just helping them survive.”
Cassidy and I look at each other with concern on our faces.
“The girls are talented, they will shine through,” Evelina adds.
Violetta rolls her eyes. “Do not listen to the hippy. She has no idea what she is talking about. She shuns society every day.”
“Because they are a bunch of bitches,” she argues.
“I know, but they are a bunch of bitches with money. They need interior designers, and these girls need them,” Violetta says.
“You don’t have to spend money on us, you have done enough for us this weekend,” I say, waving my hand around.
“Nope, we’re family now. I look after my family,” Harper states.
“I wouldn’t argue, it’s a losing battle. Plus, shopping for others is Harper’s kink,” Issy teases.
“She’s not wrong, it turns me on. I love spoiling people, and you two deserve it. I’ve been blessed with my life, and I’m fortunate. Honestly, ladies, this is going to sound like I’m the bitch, but it’s a drop in the ocean for me.” She shrugs.
My mouth falls open. I want to be her when I grow up.
“Well, thank you. You have done so much for us already,” Cassidy tells her.
“Did Sam reach out? I know he’s been talking about renovating his home,” she asks.
“Yes, he did. We will set up a meeting with him when we get back. He was unsure of what he wanted to do so he said he would get back to us, and he just has,” I explain to Harper.
“Good, he’s an idiot but a good guy.” She chuckles.
“We’re about to start on the Maine house for Collette and Fish, too, so we will be commuting back and forth for that,” Cassidy adds.
“If you need my plane for it, let me know,” Harper says.
“You’re too generous,” I tell her.
“I’m not, I’m being practical. I’m not using it for the foreseeable future. I’m paying for the staff, and you have to use the planes, it’s not good if you don’t, so honestly, you would be doing me a favor. Let’s co-ordinate your plans and mine, and we can make it work.”
She is insane, but I love her.
We arrive at the rink, and we are right down at the front, ice-side, close enough that the boards rattle in my chest every time someone hits one.
Harper’s got Bastien in a tiny pair of noise-canceling baby headphones, which is genuinely the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.
When the boys come out for warmups, they spot us straight away.
Felix skates right over and presses his glove flat against the glass, waving at Bastien, who stares back at his father with the blank, unbothered expression of a baby who has no idea his dad is a professional athlete.
You can tell the arena thinks it’s the cutest thing, and it is.
Harper holds Bastien’s little fist up and makes it wave.
Bouch comes over and squishes his whole face against the glass at us like a golden retriever. Pierre finds Issy and blows her a kiss.
And then there’s Sully.
He does a slow lap and finds me at the glass. He doesn’t do anything showy, he just holds my eye for a second and gives me this small, private smile that’s only for me, and my stomach does the thing it always does now.
Cassidy leans into me. “Subtle. Do we need to talk about something?”
“No,” I tell her as my face turns red. Thankfully, my brother skates over and waves at me, and I give him a thumbs up, which stops Cassidy from poking any further.
Nelly then skates by on his way to the goal to do his little crab walks, and turns and looks over at Cassidy, throwing her a wink.
“Subtle,” I tease her.
“Shh, stop it. It’s nothing,” she argues, and I don’t believe her.
The first period is pure chaos from ice-side. Emmett wins almost every face-off, Sully is a wall on the back end, and Fish scores twice in under six minutes. The boards rattle every time someone gets hit, and Bastien jumps in Harper’s arms even with the headphones on.
In the second period, the home team pushes back hard.
They score once then again on a power play after Bouch takes a roughing call.
The arena noise turns into a roar against us.
Pierre answers almost immediately with a filthy tip-in off a point shot from Evan.
We’re up again. Sully blocks two shots in a row.
Every time he skates past our section, he glances over, just for a second, and my body buzzes when he does.
Third period is carnage, the home crowd is screaming for a comeback.
With one minute left, they pull their goalie.
Emmett wins the defensive-zone face-off, chips it up the boards, and Sully is already gone, stretching his legs, one-on-one with the last defenseman.
He dekes, slides the puck through the guy’s feet, and tucks it into the empty net.
The horn blares, and the Mavericks bench empties.
Final score 5–2.
The boys pile onto the ice in a heap of helmets and gloves. Sully finds me in the crowd and winks. Tonight we celebrate everything, the win, the divorce, and the fact that we’re alive and free and standing in the middle of Vegas with the whole night still ahead of us.
Harper takes Bastien back to the penthouse, and Issy goes with her.
“Be safe.” Harper hugs us. “And kiss all the hot men that you can.” She giggles.
The club is loud and dark and exactly what you want it to be.
Bass thumps through the floor and the air already smells of perfume, sweat, and expensive tequila.
Collette has outdone herself. A velvet rope pulls back, and we're led into a private VIP section above the main floor, all black leather booths and low purple lighting.
Our booth stretches along the back wall, offering a clear view of the dance floor.
The bottle girls come in a line, six of them in sequined bodysuits and sky-high heels, each carrying a bottle with a sparkler shooting bright white sparks into the air.
The last two hold a huge gold sign between them that reads HAPPILY DIVORCED in glittering letters.
The whole club turns to look as they cut through the crowd and stop right in front of our booth.
Sparks rain down onto the table while the girls set the bottles in the ice and cheer for us.
Cassidy and I scream so loud we nearly lose our voices.
“Who did this?” I ask the table.
“Me,” Collette yells over the music, delighted with herself. “You're welcome.”
The whole crew's here now. Jo and Collette and the social media girls are done with work for the night. The boys are rolling in an hour after us, still riding the high of the win. There are more sparklers and shots, and the club's social media girl is taking photos of us with the boys and our sign.
Collette leans across the booth. “Did you hear Marlowe got married?” she says to Zara and Billie, her social media girls.
“Marlowe's married?” I nearly drop my glass. “When? To whom?”
“Not that Marlowe.” Collette laughs. “The Marlowe that worked with us. She left at the end of the season and disappeared, and the next thing we see on her socials is she's married to some billionaire in the South of France.”
I stare at her. “There are two Marlowes?”
“There's always been two Marlowes, Em.” She's laughing at me now. “Sorry, it was before your time.”
“I had no idea. Every time you said Marlowe, I thought you meant the one I know!”
“Oh, that's so funny.” She laughs as they fall into an animated conversation about the other Marlowe.
It's the best night I've had in longer than I can remember.
My face falls a little as I see the puck bunnies have found us again.
I shake off the feeling when I see them make a beeline to Sully, it never gets easier.
You could go over and stake your claim. Are you insane?
I'm happy just having fun right now. Honestly, it's all I have the mental capacity for.
Then you're going to have to deal with him flirting with other women. Yeah, that bit sucks.
Somewhere near the DJ booth, a screen lights up with the countdown clock, big glowing numbers ticking down the last stretch to midnight, and the whole club starts to buzz with that giddy, almost-there energy.
Fifteen minutes to the new year. The girls are shrieking about who's kissing who at midnight, and I'm laughing along. Across the floor, I catch Sully looking at me over the head of some puck bunny, but I can’t focus on him because the room suddenly spins.
Maybe I had a lot more to drink than I thought I did.
Someone has been pouring our drinks all night, so I haven't been keeping count.
The lights start to smear at the edges, trailing when I turn my head.
The music stops being music and turns into just noise, thumping at me from somewhere too far away to matter.
I blink and the booth tilts. I think I need to freshen up, wake myself up.
I'm so hot and heavy that my legs feel like they belong to someone else, and someone else is doing a bad job of working them.
There's a small, clear part right at the back of my head that knows this isn't right. It’s starting to scream about it, but the rest of me can't reach her.
I need to sit down before I end up on the floor.
I turn to find a seat, but the whole room spins with me, too fast, everything sliding sideways, and there's a hand at my elbow.
I need help.
I reach out and grab hold of something, and it steadies me.
It starts to move me, walking me somewhere, and I let it because I can't make my body do anything else, but my mind is screaming that this is wrong, that this isn't Cassidy, that I don't know whose hand this is.
I try to say no and pull myself from their grasp, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
What's going on?
I'm so confused and disorientated.