Bland Jenkins, clad in his freshly pressed security uniform, checked his watch. Nine a.m. blinked back at him. He nodded at a Phil Reddings, properly clad in a black suit standing by the door with his tablet, and unlocked the special door marked Weddings.
“Valmer and Carline. Kirk Tallmidge-Centers,” announced the first couple in line. Phil Reddings glanced at his digital list, checked off two names, and smiled broadly.
“Now if you two will just make a pass with your right hand under this special light it will identify you as part of the Thorpe party. Phil did not let the expression on his face change, but this was someone from the Tallmidge Center outlets. This was big. This information would go clear to the top management. Maybe make him eligible for a bonus.
“May I suggest you scope
