“Should I make the announcement, sir?” Officer Storey asked.
Whitley looked over at her and she nodded. There would be no turning back. “Yes, we’re ready.”
Storey walked over to the railing. “Can I get everyone’s attention?” he repeated three times before all chatter from below stopped. “Introducing President Whitley and his fiancée, Rochelle Aumont.” Storey stepped aside. Somewhere below, a door squeaked on protesting hinges to admit late guests. The room was a collection of held breath, an accumulation of reverent anticipation.
Together, hand in hand, the newly announced couple approached a railing enveloped in white lights. Hundreds of people, clustered in a shapeless mass, stared up at them. The trickle of a cheer crescendoed to minutes of applause and inaudible toasting that border
