laid a hand on Max’s arm to steady him before she turned to one of the security guards. “Go get John. He’s on detail in the ballroom. Tell him we have someone out here who needs help.”
Her words were still echoing off the now-quiet crowd when the tuxedo-clad fighter fell flat on his back.
Max had watched the man fall as if in slow motion. He’d fumbled to get a firm grip, but the guy was already laid out cold before he could get any sort of hold.
What the hell?
Violet dropped to her knees beside the man, feeling for a pulse as she shouted orders to those assembled around the ballroom. Several of the guys who’d drunkenly cheered on the fight rapidly sobered as they realized the situation had gone from a good-natured fight to something far more serious.
Max scanned the room, looking for someone who could help him wrangle the other guy until they got to the bottom of what was going on. He caught sight of a man seated calmly on a couch. Who watched a fight that passively? The man only lifted his eyebrows and offered a small shrug as if to say “young men and their ways,” but Max ignored it as he turned.
Was the jerk really that callous?
Hell, there was a woman stuck in the middle of this who could have been struck by flying fists, and at least one of the fighters was high on who knew what.
At the realization that Violet could have been hurt, thoughts of the uninterested bystander vanished, and his gaze lasered in on the object of his increasing attention. As he expected, she’d inserted herself smack in the middle of it all, shouting orders like a drill sergeant from her position beside the downed man.
“The ambulance is on its way. In the meantime, get him comfortable and covered and get something under his head.”
With a quick leap to her feet, she focused on the other half of the fight. “What happened here?”
“Nothing.”
“You were brawling in the middle of a wedding.”
“Nate started it.” The immediate chest puff beneath the studs of the man’s tuxedo shirt had Max moving to stand next to the second fighter.
“What did he start? You’re at a party.”
“Trash talk. Weird stuff.” The guy stopped and scratched at his temple. “Really weird stuff.”
“Like what?”
“We were talking about the wedding and how Jordan’s now handcuffed to Kim. In a good way, ya know?” The guy scratched his forehead again, the adrenaline fading from his voice as the heat of the moment faded into the aftermath. “And then he breaks off and starts talking about handcuffs and how he’s going to find a woman of his own to handcuff. And then he—” A wash of red filled the man’s face. “He said a few things about my sister that I don’t want to repeat.”
Max let the man process, the unreality of the moment giving way to his increasing ability to think through what happened. “You know him?”
“Sure I know him. Since we were kids. Nate’s a good guy.”
“And the two of you usually don’t brawl like your lives depend on it?”
“No. Heck no.”
Because Nate’s a good guy, Max thought.
“All we were doing was having a few drinks. Over there.” With the excitement fading, people had moved back to the bar set up for the Gardners’ guests. Open bars had a way of bringing out the party animal in everyone, but Max couldn’t help thinking there was something else at play.
Max glanced down at the felled Nate, his eyes still closed and his breathing coming in rapid pants. The security team surrounded him and the lead Violet had called for was on his knees, assessing the man’s situation. “Does Nate like to add anything to liven up his party?”
“You mean drugs?” The guy’s eyes widened. “No, man. Nothing.”
Violet had stayed quiet, but she chose that moment to speak up. “Is it possible someone slipped him something?”
“We were—” The fading buzz and postadrenaline low had dulled the man’s eyes, but they flashed with a shot of fire. “There was a guy. Over there. Older guy. He talked us up for a few minutes. Said how much he was enjoying the party. Asked if we were friends with the bride or the groom.”
The man’s gaze flew around the reception area before he shook his head. “He’s gone.”
“What did he look like?”
“Unremarkable. I don’t know. He just sort of blended in. It’s a party, ya know.”
Yeah. He did know. For all the security in place, the hotel was large and no one had perceived there was much danger, especially once the groom’s grandmother—a three-decade congresswoman—was ensconced in the ballroom, protection detail nearby.
Max took a view of the room through fresh eyes, his surprise at the man who’d sat unmoving on the couch flashing in his memory.
Had the guy dropped something in Nate’s drink?
Although he followed a steady progression around the room, reading each quadrant for anything suspicious, Max knew what he’d find.
Everything was back to normal, and there wasn’t a stranger in sight.
* * *
Violet waited until the ambulance had come and gone before finding Kimberly and Jordan in the ballroom. She hated telling them anything, but they had a right to know about their guest, and she’d rather they heard it from her so she could spin the story, minimizing its impact on the event.
Nate had been checked out, and while the paramedics had shared precious little information, she did get out of one of them where they were taking him. Brad, the guy Nate had fought with, joined his friend in the ambulance and promised to report back with any updates.
“Where’s the ambulance?” Cassidy’s breathless voice grabbed her just as Violet got the bride and groom in her sights.
“On its way to the hospital.”
“What happened?”
Violet wanted to get it over with, but she also knew Cassidy would be a good sounding board for how casual she could make the story. “Heated words followed by a fight in the lobby.”
Cassidy’s tone only ratcheted up as Violet finished the last notes of the retelling. “And that required an ambulance?”
Reconsidering, Violet couldn’t quite stop the wry grin. “I was hoping the fight would divert attention from the whole ambulance part.”
“Try again.” Cassidy’s soft blue gaze was serious as she moved them both toward the wall. “In the meantime, calm down for a few minutes. Another
