But she’d given that gift to another, and that had to be enough. It had to mean something. Didn’t it?
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying the day. You look amazing.”
“I did want to thank you, and we will be going out to lunch, my treat, after Jordan and I are back from Aruba. But I also stopped you for another reason. The security team wanted to talk to you.”
“Of course.” Violet had already begun moving when a slender hand gripped her wrist. “They can wait a minute. Come here.”
Before she could take another step, Violet was wrapped in a tight hug. “Thank you.”
Those damnable tears threatened again, and Violet held them back. Instead, she hung on an extra moment before stepping away. “Go enjoy the day. Find Jordan and dance until dawn. That’s all the thanks I need.”
Kimberly nodded before rushing toward her new husband. Violet watched for a moment before she turned on her heel and headed for the lobby area outside the ballroom.
What could security possibly need?
* * *
The chaos that greeted her had Violet reconsidering a four-hundred-person guest list.
Individuals in various states of drunken enjoyment littered the reception area outside the ballroom. Two men—obviously some of the more heavily intoxicated of the bunch—had stripped out of their tuxedo jackets and bow ties and were circling each other like prize fighters.
“What is this?” Violet deliberately kept her voice calm, pushing as much authority as she could into her words, and used their quiet force to gain everyone’s attention.
She should have used a roar.
The two men leaped on each other. She barely missed being a part of the fray as the hard smack of fists on flesh echoed off the two men, who grunted and groaned as they locked into battle.
“Stop it!” The words were as ineffective as she knew they’d be, but it was the cheering of the crowd that had her seeing red. “Stop it now!”
The Kelley and Gardner families came from money, including a political dynasty on the groom’s side. The added security was meant to ensure the family was safe. Instead, they were out here dealing with a group of guests acting like ill-behaved gorillas.
On a hard exhalation, Violet had to admit that was an insult to gorillas.
Two of the security team members she’d met earlier were on opposite sides of the brawl, trying to find ways to pull the two grappling guests apart, but neither seemed to get a good grip on the duo. If she was honest, she suspected they were ill prepared for dealing with a scuffle between two wealthy guests.
Which was still no excuse for inaction.
“Gentlemen!” She pushed another layer of authority into her tone and added a nice veneer of bitchiness as she eyed where she could get a good foot into the middle, toppling the two men. Before she could strike a handy shin, the two men were suddenly pushed apart.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Max stood between them, holding each at arm’s length, his gaze dark and his shoulders straining hard against the thick material of his suit jacket.
Blood dripped from one of the men and the other spit a mouthful onto the carpet, nearly wrenching a scream from Violet that even their fight hadn’t managed to do. This was a nice venue. One of the most prime venues in the city, truth be told, and they’d behaved like this?
She moved up close to the hard body of the one who’d spat his displeasure, her finger already drilling a hole in his chest. “What’s the matter with you? This is Kimberly and Jordan’s special day—”
“Get out of my face, lady.” The man nearly shoved her, and it was only Max’s hard press on the guy’s chest that held him still.
“What’s your—” Violet broke off as she caught the hazy dimness in the man’s gaze, his pupils blown wide even in the bright light of the room. “This man needs help.”
“Violet.” Max’s voice was urgent even as he maintained a firm, restraining hold.
Violet 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’