Page 39 of One More Time


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“I told you. Connie invited me,” she said.

“I mean in this elevator. With me.”

“I’m pretty sure you stepped in with me at the exercise level,” she said.

I shook my head as I turned around and shoved the sixth-floor button again.

“Ah, floor six. Connie and I are on floor seven. What room are you?” Evelyn asked.

“None of your fucking business,” I said.

“Well you don’t have to be an asshole about it,” she said.

The elevator doors opened, and I strode quickly away from her. My blood was boiling as Evelyn sighed behind me. I was two ticks short of jogging to my damn door as I heard another door slam open. I looked down the hallway and saw Chanel emerge, Ana hot on her heels as our eyes connected.

“Chanel,” I said. “Can we talk?”

She looked over at Ana before the two of them approached me. Ana’s eyes were on fire, and Chanel’s were full of hurt. Seeing that woman had dug up so many painful memories for me, so I could only imagine what Chanel was going through. Her eyes mirrored the hurt from that night.

“I had no idea she was on this fucking ship,” I said.

“You couldn't have. She didn’t graduate with us,” Chanel said plainly.

“You look amazing,” I told her. “You’re going to raise a lot of money this afternoon.”

She nodded her head and looked just past me. I stifled the urge to scream. Every time I got closer to figuring out where we stood, something would wedge itself between us again. The earlier excitement I’d had at the thought of what would happen after the auction was now clouded by the doubt I saw in her eyes.

“Chanel, I swear—” I started, but she held up her hand.

“I know Rhett. It’s fine. You’d better go get ready for the auction.”

With that, she and Ana walked up to the lunch area.

I ran back to the room and took a quick shower, not bothering to shave the five o’clock shadow I was sporting. I threw on a crisp white button down and a pair of black slacks. I looked at myself in the mirror and grimaced. How the fuck had I let Tommy talk me into this?

When I got to the lunch area, Connie Thomas already had the microphone in her hands.

“Hello everyone! If everyone could please take their places, we can get started. Now I want to remind you that all money raised this afternoon is going to Jeff Banks’ medical fund. I’m happy to say that Jeff is now in remission, but the bills are still coming in. I want to thank all of you for being willing to participate in this great cause. Now the winners will get to take their dates to a nice dinner this evening in the grand ballroom. It’s been set up specifically for the event and you will be treated to a five-star three course meal with champagne and dancing. Now, who is our first contestant?”

Julie Tish, one of Connie’s best friends and co-captain of the cheer squad stepped onto the stage and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. She was wearing a dress two sizes too small and heels two inches too high. She looked like she was going to fall over at any minute, but she was wrapped so tightly I doubted she’d be hurt by the fall.

I stood and watched as the first few contestants were on the block and clapped when the winners claimed their prizes. I looked for Chanel over the crowd and saw her and Ana standing in the opposite corner of the room. I started to walk over to where she stood when Connie called my name.

“And next we have Rhett Smith, the captain of our lacrosse team. Rhett is single and newly retired Navy SEAL. Let’s start the bidding ladies. Who is ready to have a nice romantic dinner with Rhett?”

I stepped up on stage and plastered on my best fake smile, reminding myself that the money was going to a good cause. I tried to catch Chanel’s eye, but she was looking around the room instead, trying to see who was bidding on me.

“Three hundred dollars going once, going twice, sold! Marcie Dade, come collect your man!” Connie said excitedly.

I looked down at Marcie, another member of our cheer squad that used to flirt with me incessantly in high school. I smiled and tried to be gracious, but deep down, going to dinner with Marcie Dade was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Hi Rhett, gosh you look really good,” Marcie said as she approached me.

I smiled and looked down at Marcie. The years had not been kind, but I couldn’t very well say that to her. “You too Marcie. Thank you for supporting the cause.”

We stepped off to the side as Connie called Chanel up next.

“Chanel here has been keeping busy as a blogger and sometimes writer for the New York Times. She has promised me that she will be sharing her experiences on this cruise in her next blog. Ok, let’s start the bidding for dinner with Chanel.”

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