The Professional. Addison Fox
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 dance or two isn’t going to make a difference, and it will give you some time to settle.”
Violet knew her friend was right, and she used the short walk to unruffle her feathers. There was something at every wedding that was unplanned and often unpleasant, but she got through.
For some reason, she couldn’t find any hint of that quiet calm today.
“Now spill. What really happened?”
“That’s what’s so odd. The two guys fighting were best friends. But the one in an ambulance headed for Baylor’s emergency room right now is clearly high on something. He collapsed after Max broke up the fight.”
“Max broke it up?”
“He was considerably more effective than security.”
Violet inwardly winced at her dry tone. Max had helped, and she was grateful.
“He’s been keeping a watchful eye,” Cassidy said.
“Too watchful.”
Cassidy’s gaze was equally watchful, but her tone was full of the censure only old friends could manage. “You need to get over this annoyance with him. We have the rubies because he made a judgment call on his feet. Being mad isn’t going to change that.”
“I know. Damn it.” Violet tapped a toe, the nervous movement something to focus on. “I know.”
And she did know.
The discovery of a cache of jewels underneath the floor of their shop wasn’t Max’s fault. The fact that their landlady had hidden fakes of the British Crown Jewels and three very real—and very precious—rubies wasn’t Max’s fault, either. He’d just had the misfortune to snag the rubies off the top of the heap before Cassidy’s ex-fiancé, Robert, stole the rest of the find.
“In fact, if I’m not mistaken, Max would like to find any number of ways to make it up to you.”
A flash of heat cratered in her stomach before spreading outward like a warm flow of lava as Violet imagined all those ways Max could make it up to her. Then she locked the erotic images away. She wasn’t interested in pursuing anything—casual or otherwise—with such an overbearing man. The attraction might be out of her control, but what she did about it wasn’t. “You’re subtle, Cupid.”
“I’m only saying what we’ve all seen from the beginning. The man’s got eyes for you, and I know you well enough to know you return the sentiment.”
“I don’t—”
Cassidy’s hand came up in a stop gesture with all the speed of a Supreme. “Don’t insult me or yourself by lying.”
Violet hesitated before she pressed on. She did feel something for Max, but it didn’t matter, and no amount of breath had made her friends see reason. Just because Cassidy and Lilah had found happy-ever-afters with the men who’d descended into the middle of their lives like a hurricane didn’t mean she’d find the same.
In fact, her history suggested the exact opposite.
She wasn’t cut out for romantic love. And thanks to her parents’ loveless marriage and subsequent poor decisions in that realm, she had no basis for it. Instead, Violet had the deep, abiding love of friends, and she knew that was enough.
She’d decided long ago it had to be.
“Please think about it.”
“I don’t see why I need to. You and Lilah have done enough thinking about it for three of me.”
“Vi—”
She grabbed her friend’s hands in a tight grip, her voice firm but kind. “I appreciate it. You know I do. But this really isn’t the place for it. I just sent a man out of here in an ambulance.”
The rapid change in subject had its desired effect, even if Violet regretted the slight manipulation. She had put a man in an ambulance and finishing the wedding needed to be their focus right now. Cassidy glanced around the ballroom, her voice hesitant when she finally spoke. “Do you think the brawl has anything to do with us?”
“I don’t see how. We’ve monitored everyone who’s entered and exited. Reed’s stepfather is in jail. I don’t see a connection.”
“You’re right. Of course you are.” Cassidy shook her head. “I don’t know why I can’t believe it’s over. Reed watched them cart the man off in a police cruiser.”
The urge to share Max’s point of view—that they were all naive to think Tripp Lange wouldn’t find a way to work this entire situation to his advantage—was nearly out of her mouth when she pulled it back.
Just because Max speculated didn’t mean he was right.
And despite the fact that they’d collectively spent the last two weeks on high alert over the discovery in their shop didn’t mean it wasn’t time for things to go back to normal.
The culprit was behind bars, and anyone who’d worked with him was dead.
It was time to relax.
* * *
Alex Ebner, assistant to the man whispered about only as The Duke, settled himself in the front seat of the black limousine. “The women are all there, just as you suggested they would be.”
“And the men?”
“Stuck to them, as you also suspected.”
“You speak of my stepson as well?”
Alex thought about his casual stroll through the ballroom. “He hasn’t left the baker’s side.”
“Excellent.”
Alex waited, as he always did. He was deeply loyal, and he was more than willing to wait as The Duke determined whatever came next. He’d been raised in the old ways, and he took pride in