Ivy
I was halfway through my hair and makeup when Marsha rushed in, wide-eyed and breathless. All eyes in the room turned toward her.
“What is it, Marsha?” I asked in a panicky voice. The look on her face made me even more worried, and my mind raced in different directions.
“We have a little situation downstairs,” Marsha said, glancing at the women behind me.
I turned to them, “Give me a moment, please,” I whispered.
I walked up to Marsha, and she took my hand, leading me out the door.
“What is going on, Marsha?” I asked as soon as we were out of earshot.
“It’s Max. He’s at the reception, and he’s attracting attention.”
I halted. “What do you mean he’s attracting attention?”
Marsha gave me a look but didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled my hand and led me toward the reception
