Astra Country Club sat on seventy-three acres of land just outside Star City. It boasted a huge golf course, immaculately maintained; two Olympic-sized swimming pools; eight tennis courts, with instruction available from four professional instructors (two of whom were former Wimbledon champions); and banquet facilities prepared to cater to a member’s every whim.
Even former members, whose memberships had lapsed due to reversals in personal fortune, were sometimes welcomed by this most exclusive of institutions.
“Good afternoon, sir, madam,” the tuxedoed usher said with a smile. “Friends of the groom, or friends of the bride?”
“Both, actually,” the handsome, dark-haired man said. “But we’ve known the groom longer.”
“Yes, sir — say, I know you!” the usher declared.
“Oh?” Bruce Wayne said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Well, not personally, of course,” the usher explained, “but I’ve seen you on the news! You’re Bruce Wayne, the billionaire from Gotham City!”
“Guilty as charged,” Bruce admitted.
“Your fame does tend to walk in front of you, Bruce,” Wayne’s companion, Silver St. Cloud, said with a sly smile.
“Please pardon my enthusiasm, Mr. Wayne,” the usher said. “It’s just a surprise, is all. We don’t get too many out-of-town celebrities here.”
“Mr. Queen and I attended the same prep school,” Bruce explained. “We’re old friends.”
“Of course,” the usher said. “Well, I do hope you enjoy the ceremony and the reception. The groom’s party is on the left.”
“Thank you,” Bruce said, and he led Silver into the hall where the ceremony was to take place.
“You must get tired of that,” Silver whispered humorously.
“The price one must pay,” Bruce said, patting his companion’s arm. It was a rare feeling for the Batman, the warm glow he was experiencing now. He realized that he was basking in his old friend’s happiness. Bruce glanced at his fiancée’s lovely face and smiled in anticipation of the next such ceremony he would be attending.