As if on cue, Jenn's phone buzzed. She raised the device, tapped the screen a few times and illuminated her face with electronic blue light. "Right." She placed the phone back in hey pocket. "The owner has apparently bought a table at some fancy nightclub up the road and wants the main team there." She rolled her eyes at Mark. "You know him, never a missed opportunity for press."
"Yeah but Terence won't be there." Oliver frowned; what point was having the team assemble to be seen if the winning player was absent?
"I'm sure he just wants to buy you drinks and talk to his team in a non-professional setting." Mark agreed, knowing their owner far too well for this to be anything other than an excuse to drink. Actual press events would follow next week once they'd all recovered. "And I'm sure he went to see Terence." He added, noting the look on Oliver's face. Oliver picked sadly at a strawberry impaled on the rim of his glass then nodded.
"Right. Well then, best to not let these go to waste." Picking up his swirling shot, Oliver raised it to a toast. "And what should we toast to?"