The Grand Hall of the Pavilion was styled in understated opulence. Ivory floral arrangements traced the high marble columns, and crystal chandeliers threw warm, amber light over the polished floor. Guests dressed in tailored tuxedos and designer gowns filled the rows of seating, creating a sea of deep tones, champagne glasses, and quiet wealth.
Near the front of the sanctuary stage, Alex stood in an immaculate tailored black tuxedo with satin peak lapels and a crisp white silk pocket square. He looked every bit the poised heir to the Livingston Group, his hair neatly slicked back as he adjusted his cufflinks. Beside him, Anna Brodick looked stunning in a fitted mermaid-cut gown of ivory silk, complete with an intricate lace veil that trailed gracefully behind her on the steps.
Further down near the front row, Arthur Livingston stood chatting with a small cluster of middle-aged men in dark suits, a glass of scotch in hand.
