Lucy balanced the small tray that held the glass and strode around the dance floor.
She definitely wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass her by, though. Ty wasn’t anywhere close, and she’d barely seen him all night long. But Michael was right there, and he looked deliciously masculine in the classic suit the security guys wore to these kinds of events. She winked his way and gave Alexei a grin. “Hey, Alexei. Different place, same old job, huh? I’m supposed to be the boss, but here I am serving drinks.”
Alexei bowed her way. “Sometimes boss must be playing for team.”
A frown crossed her boyfriend’s face as he took in the sight of the tray in her hand. “I thought you were supervising.”
“I was, but we had a guest spill a drink on another guest’s apparently very expensive dress, and we’re having to fix their whole table while attempting to stop red wine from staining Gucci. Hence, here I am taking this super-expensive glass of Scotch to one of the suites. Can’t keep some high roller waiting. Be back soon.” She hustled because she needed to get back in place to ensure the food kept flowing.
Luckily the ballroom wasn’t far from the elevator the staff used. She caught a glimpse of Nell and Henry, who were currently protesting right outside the big lobby doors. Technically they were supposed to stay off the actual property, but Nell was a close friend of the owner, who pretty much told anyone who didn’t like it that Nell was part of the daily entertainment and to get used to it. Cole Roberts often sent them hot chocolate when it was cold and let them chant and sing next to the big outdoor patio heaters.
And yes, they often protested those too for their overuse of propane.
Nell seemed to be singing something about killing trees and using them cruelly. She sounded pretty good, and the dancing she was doing would totally keep her warm.
She went up to the second floor and down the hall to the suite at the end, knocking on the door. “Room service.”
The door came open, and she caught sight of a dark-haired man with a towel around his waist turning away from her. “Put it on the table. I’ll be right back.”
Rude, but she walked through the door, flipping the in-room lock out so the door wouldn’t close. She probably wouldn’t have done that if the guest had been a woman, but there it was. She moved into the room, following the elegant foyer to the sitting area of the suite. There was a dining table and she moved there, setting the glass down.
“Your Scotch, Mr…” She opened the bill. Though the guest had already bought the bottle, there was a small fee for storage and service. She didn’t expect much of a tip, and then she saw the name and really didn’t expect one. “Foster.”
Damn it. Now she knew where they’d stashed Brock after his fight with Chet. Could she run before he saw her?
A derisive snort let her know she wouldn’t be getting away so easily. “Damn. You actually work here. Wow. I guess you’re one of those hard-working rural girls I always hear about. Need two or three jobs to support all those kids you had at seventeen.”
He moved to the table and took a long swig of the Scotch.
As long as she was here. “I need your signature, sir.”
His disdain meant nothing to her. She could come back with all the ways he was a stereotypical douche nozzle spending Daddy’s cash and probably always on the lookout for his next woman to sexually harass.
He took another sip and opened the receipt book. “And what if I don’t give it to you, sweetheart?”
“Then I’ll walk away without it and explain that you didn’t want to sign,” she said simply. She was going to put a note in his guest portfolio that only men were allowed to come into his room. She wasn’t going to send her female servers into the predator’s den. She reached for the book.
He snatched it away with the hand that wasn’t holding the Scotch glass. His eyes lit with malicious glee as he downed half the glass. “I think not. I think you need to go get the rest of this bottle. My sister is an asshole. She thinks if it’s left at the bar, I won’t drink so much. So you have a choice. Go get my bottle or I’ll simply order a glass every fifteen minutes and you can bring it to me all night long.”
She couldn’t care less if he drank himself to death. It sounded like a great idea to her. “Not a problem. I’ll have it up here as soon as possible, sir.”
She started to turn, but he reached out and gripped her wrist.
“Hey, I didn’t tell you…” Brock began and then dropped her hand. “I…what the fuck? What did you do?”
She backed up because his skin had gone a sickly white right before her eyes. “Nothing. What’s wrong? Should I call someone?”
He put a hand to his stomach, his eyes going to the glass in his hand. “You fucking bitch.”
He raised his hand and tossed the glass her way. She sidestepped it, glass exploding against the wall and sending Scotch everywhere. It smelled odd—not like she was used to Scotch smelling—but she was too upset to identify the scent. It was all over her blouse. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t gotten cut up from the glass shattering.
She pulled the walkie from her belt and started to call security.
That was when blood poured from his mouth. He hit his knees and his whole body convulsed.
Lucy put her hand over her mouth to stop the scream that was building. She had to do something, and it wasn’t run away. She pushed the button on her walkie and called the only person who could help her right now.
“This is Tyler,” a steady voice said.
“Ty? Ty, I need you. I’m in 210. I think he’s dying. Please hurry.”
She let the walkie drop and prayed he made it in time.
Chapter Twelve
Ty’s walkie squawked for the first time that night, the sound surprising him. For a couple of minutes he’d forgotten he was working. It was easy because this particular party felt an awful lot like a town party, although with lots of people walking around with platters of fancy food.
Jax chewed on a stuffed pepper as Ty pulled his walkie out.
“These are delicious,” River said with a grin, offering her husband another.
They should get a room.
Of course that thought reminded him that he had a room and all he had to do was maneuver Lucy up to it and he could get into her pretty panties.
He still had hours to go before he could do that. With a sigh he pushed the button to talk. “This is Tyler.”
He hoped it was minor. He wasn’t sure he could handle a major injury that would require him to drive through a snowstorm all the way to the nearest hospital. The slopes were closed but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have to deal with a broken bone.
“Ty? Ty, I need you. I’m in 210. I think he’s dying. Please hurry.”
His whole body went cold because that was Lucy, and she sounded terrified.
“Everything okay?” River’s eyes were wide.
“I need to find Caleb.” She’d said someone was dying. He could do CPR, but Caleb could do far more if he needed to. He glanced around the ballroom, looking for the doc.
Jax pointed toward the dance floor. “He’s right there. You need backup?”
He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he should figure it out before he brought in a crowd. “No, but you could go and tell the bartender that Lucy might be gone for a while. He’ll let her staff know.”