“Hey, lady, I said I want drinks for my friends,” the dude who looked way too old to be in a softball uniform insisted. “My dad owns this place and he won’t be happy you ignored me.”

He reached for her, but that was the moment the strobe light went off and everything seemed to go in slow motion. One minute he seemed to be going for the drink in her hand and then in a flash, he was stumbling, his hand finding her breast.

She heard a shout over the din of music, and glitter started to pour down from the stage. It probably should have hit Miss Mischief, as she’d been announced, who was shaking her thing for all she was worth, but one of two fans picked up a stream and blasted it straight into Lisa’s face. The drink in her hand dropped and she watched in abject horror as Softball Uniform tripped and slipped, and before she knew it he was taking her down to the floor with him.

The floor that was covered in glitter and potentially heretofore undiscovered hemorrhagic fevers. One minute she was standing up, tall and proud and confident in her ability to mix a proper daiquiri, and the next she was a glitter-covered patient zero with a large man on top of her.

“Hey, now this is more like it.” He reeked of beer and sweat.

“Get off me.” She’d just said the words when the man was lifted off her and tossed to the side.

“Are you all right?” a familiar voice asked as Remy dropped to one knee in front of her.

She was fine. Probably.

She started to get to her knees, but softball dude had gotten up before her.

“Hey, Teacher Lady,” he began, getting back into her space.

“I am not a teacher,” she growled and pushed him back.

He stumbled a bit and then somehow managed to smash right into the cold buffet, sending shrimp and salad and oysters flying. Some of those suckers seemed to have caught air and soared out into the crowd.

She slipped in shrimp cocktail and went down again, her heels wobbling underneath her. She hit the floor hard, looking up at the ceiling and wondering if anyone ever dusted. At least she’d stopped moving.

But a loud howl signaled all was not right in her world. The lights suddenly came up and Lisa realized everyone was staring at her. Well, the people who weren’t trying to help the dude in the softball uniform. He was lying to her right and his arm seemed to be at the wrong angle. He screamed louder than Mystikal could rap.

“Lisa, are you all right?” Remy was down on one knee.