A marching band seemed to be playing inside of Andrea’s head. She cracked her eyes open and wished there was a way to dim the sun. With a moan, she pulled a pillow over her head, but it didn’t do anything to stop the pounding as the band played on.
She hadn’t drank that much the night before, had she? It hadn’t seemed like it. But then, she hadn’t exactly been counting champagne flutes, either. In desperate need of some aspirin, she pushed the pillow off of her head, dug herself out from beneath the blankets, and went in search of her bag.
The bathroom was down the hall, so once she’d swallowed a couple of pills she hoped would make her head stop pounding, she put on a robe and went out to use the restroom.
She’d only taken a few steps into the hallway when she heard Case’s voice. Once
