The door opened, and a waiter was already bowing respectfully, speaking in English, "Hello, Miss Robinson."
Miss Robinson?
Rebecca Quentin was bewildered by this form of address.
"Miss Robinson, where would you like to go? Should I call a car for you?"
"No, thank you."
Politely declining the waiter's attentiveness, Rebecca Quentin walked into the elevator alone.
The remnants of last night's alcohol still lingered in her body. She weakly leaned against the elevator, watching the numbers slowly descend, her thoughts hazy.
It wasn't until the elevator chimed that Rebecca Quentin regained her consciousness.
Walking out of the elevator, she took her phone out of her evening bag and dialed Chester Robinson.
Chester Robinson's phone indicated it couldn't connect...
Rebecca Quentin reluctantly walked out of the hotel and stood by the roadside waiting for a taxi.
