BONDS One: Crave

Kennedy might have guessed so. There was a harmony, an ease between them even during their verbal exchange, proving to him that marital happiness really could exist.
Alma turned to him. “We’ll have lots of demos tonight. Marcel and Wren will be available to chat with people and give advice. I may try to get them back some other time to teach a class.”
“Hire the photographer, too,” Kennedy advised.
“I like the way you think. By the way, first-timers and attendees who are not sponsored by a member will be wearing fluorescent white wristbands.”
“Anything else I need to know?”
“All my DMs got the same message you did. Everyone, even the ladies, will be wearing black pants and long-sleeved white shirts.”
“So we’ll be confused with the catering staff?”
She laughed. “No one will confuse you with anyone else. I’ll guarantee you that, Master Aldrich.”
Marcel gave a mighty tug on his rope and yanked Wren from the floor to a generous round of applause.
“I’ll say a few words when they’re done,” Alma continued. “After that, I imagine the night will get more interesting.”
No doubt.
Right now, the building was still well-lit, but Alma was an expert at event management. As the evening progressed, the music would get louder and the room would get darker.
“I’ll be back later,” she said before heading down the stairs.
At the bottom, one of her employees moved aside the thick velvet rope that prevented guests from sneaking to the upper floors.
With her blonde hair and stunning red corset, Kennedy knew he wouldn’t lose track of her.
Marcel finished with Wren by giving her a good spin while the photographer snapped away and the spectators clapped.
One of the club employees offered a headset microphone to Alma. Once satisfied, she walked, or more like sauntered, to the middle of the floor. The music was abruptly silenced and a spotlight hit Alma. “Thanks for joining us tonight to celebrate The Hub’s fifth birthday!”
As the crowd raucously cheered, a group of four women entered the space. One carried a bag, and Kennedy noticed that two of them wore wristbands. One of the women not wearing a wristband looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
He didn’t often run into people he knew here.