BONDS Two: Claim

Only Julien Bonds would consider circumventing the Laws of Physics a mere challenge.
“And this way, I can drink your alcohol without paying for it.”
“Well, I always appreciate the chance to be in Svetlana’s evil grips.” Julien gave a stupid smile.
Svetlana. The pilot of Julien’s private jet, a woman reputed to have been a former spy. Kennedy wondered about the former part of the rumor. Regardless of the truth, she was every man’s greatest fear come to life, a woman capable of cracking necks, and looking like an angel while she did it.
“Tell me you’ve never been tempted to try to subdue her,” Julien said.
“I might be kinky as fuck, but I’ve never been called stupid as sin. I wouldn’t take the chance of pissing her off.”
“You should live more dangerously, my friend. Makes being alive a bigger thrill.”
Maybe he should.
Despite rumors and innuendo, the last time he’d traveled for pleasure had been to Julien’s obscenely self-indulgent birthday party. If only his life were as exotic and fun as the press believed it to be.
“Since I’m already on the Eastern seaboard, I thought I’d stay for a week. Long enough to attend Karyn’s opening.”
“She invited you?” Kennedy asked, surprised. He had no idea Julien and his sister were in contact. How much more didn’t he know? “Did you accept?”
“I haven’t said anything yet. But have you ever tried to say no to her?”
“No one can resist her.” That was part of the problem with Karyn. His parents only had two children, and Kennedy was older by eight years. When Karyn had been born several weeks premature, she’d been beautiful, delicate, well-behaved, welcomed and indulged in every way by their parents. If he were honest, he’d admit that he was every bit as guilty, too.
Unfortunately she was also restless, flitting from one interest to another while settling on none. Right now, she was dabbling in a hybrid form of art. She took black and white photos—of people, landscapes, buildings, anything that intrigued her. She’d have the pictures digitally printed on any kind of medium, from canvas to metal, even paper or linen. Then she added in color, using oils. He’d bought a couple for his condo, even though he didn’t like them. He had a note to remind himself to hang them if she ever came to visit.
Julien rolled his wrist to check his smart watch.
Kennedy knew Julien’s company had pioneered the technology. But this watch was different, still. It was smaller than he’d expected, and its thin, narrow piece of glass was rounded at the corners. A slim metal band wrapped around the exterior.
As his friend moved, the metal appeared to change colors.
“Titanium,” Julien said, answering the unasked question. With his fingertip, Julien moved a blinking light from one place to another.
Then an apparition of the sleek Svetlana appeared, the image of her stilettoes all but touching the glass.