"I've got a lot of experience not being welcomed places,"
"I imagine that's true. But you still need to leave."
Before he opened his mouth again, she went over to Kat's desk and dialed security's number. She knew she was being extreme but, with a suspect in custody, she could see no reason to torture herself by keeping the other man around.
"I have an intruder up in my office," she said in a half-dead voice. "Please come immediately."
When she hung up, Tiny was giving her an indulgent look. "Do you really think that's necessary?"
"If you leave now, it won't be."
Moments later, her head of security and three other men flew down the hall. What happened next was a blur. The Foundation's officers swarmed around Tiny only to be sent down to the floor or over against the wall, hard. John's partner was a whirling dervish of fists and legs and it was obvious he was going to win even though he was outnumbered.
As she was watching the melee, and wondering how many of her men were going to need medical attention, Grace remembered Eddie's present. Reaching into her evening bag, she pulled out the Mace just as two men grabbed onto Tiny's shoulders. She felt conflicted about using it but then decided he'd already done enough damage to her security detail. Tiny was showing no signs of tiring and she worried that someone was going to get hurt.
"I'm sorry to do this," she yelled over the din. All of the men briefly stopped moving and she took advantage of the opportunity, letting a stream off, right into Tiny's face.
The man cursed and started blinking furiously as the fight resumed. Though he kept on lashing out, the security officers had the upper hand now and were finally able to subdue him.
"We'll take him down to dispatch," her head of security said between heaving breaths. He was straddling Tiny's back while an officer put cuffs on the man. "And then we'll have him arrested."
"That's not necessary. Just get him out of the building." Grace paused. "Will he be okay, though?"
"I’ll be goddamn fine," Tiny said from underneath the pile of men. "As long as you call off your dogs and let me protect you!"
The man on his back looked down in confusion.
"Just make sure he's alright," Grace said, feeling incredibly numb. "I really got him a good one."
"Countess," Tiny protested, lifting his head off the carpet. His eyes were watering and he'd started to retch. "Don't do this. You don't know if they've got the right man or whether they can keep that suspect in custody."
As she looked into his red and swollen eyes, she took a deep breath and addressed the sargent. "Carmine, I'd like to have one of our officers around me at all times tonight."
His thick eyebrows rose. "Sure. But you don't need to be afraid of this guy. He's not getting away from us. Not with what you did to him. And Marks's men are here. We've got enough blue uniforms to make a quilt down there."
She groaned. "Unless they're in plain clothes, tell them to leave. I don't want everyone scared that the terror alert has gone up or something. I do want someone with me at all times, though."
The man nodded and assigned one of the others.
As Grace went down to the party, she was perversely relieved that she was feeling so numb. Under more normal circumstances, she would have been nervous as hell about the outcome of the evening. The kind of people who went to expensive galas like the Foundation's had as much of a herd mentality as any other group of humans and they regarded a decline in prestige like a bad stock tip—as something to be avoided at all costs. The night was going to be a test of the Foundation's strength. Of people's faith in her.
Grace emerged into the atrium and saw that everything was arranged in time for the guests who had already started to arrive. Tables had been erected in an ever widening circle around the marble entrance to the museum and, in the center of each, magnificent bouquets of white and red roses mixed with stalks of deep blue foxglove lent a dramatic air. Uniformed waiters were already passing trays and getting drinks and a string octet had begun to play.
Before she could greet the first arrivals, Kat came up to her and they ran through some last details.
A half hour later, the lobby of the Hall Building was positively packed. The great, glittering masses, it turned out, had rallied around the Foundation. And Grace. She was astonished by the number of people who genuinely seemed to wish her well and were offering their support as she took over her father's role. They also had a lot of good things to say about the Walker painting, the food, the change in venue.
Even the old fogies on the board seemed eager to be in her good graces, now that the evening was proving to be a success. As they came up to her one by one and proclaimed their support, she nodded and smiled. She noted that not one of them protested Lamont's departure.