The Unveiling of Secret Queen-Chapter 343: Unable to Connect with the Little Mixer_1
Beijing is known for its array of dining options, and as they exited the airport, a Buick with the license plate Beijing 666888 was already waiting outside for them.
Alfred Garland effortlessly opened the car door, smiling and gesturing for Nathalie Quinlan to get in first.
"Ms. Quinlan, please get in the car first. We’re heading to Imperial Hotel for dinner, I’ve already reserved a spot."
Though Silvania Ingram had purchased quite a few properties for her in Beijing, this was actually Nathalie Quinlan’s first time in the city. Unfamiliar with her surroundings and not knowing what Imperial Hotel was, she simply ’hmm’ed nonchalantly and bent down to get into the car.
After Nathalie Quinlan got into the car, Alfred Garland considerately vacated the front passenger seat, turning to the man behind him with a smile, "Amadeus, you and Ms. Quinlan take the back seat, I’ll be upfront to give directions."
Yancey Family driver: ...
What did this young master mean by this? Was he trying to humiliate him?
He had been driving for Mr. Yancey for twenty years, and there wasn’t a nook or cranny in Beijing he didn’t know. Just from the airport to Imperial Hotel, could he possibly get lost?
As the driver thought this, the front passenger door was opened, and he watched Alfred Garland hop into the car with great urgency, saying to him, "Please head to Imperial Hotel."
"Mhm."
The driver may have felt slighted, but being part of the Yancey Family, he understood the virtues of speaking less and doing more. He silently turned the car around and headed towards Valiant Street.
Imperial Hotel is one of the top private restaurants in Beijing, a favorite dining spot for many from the upper echelons of society, known for its Santhoma cuisine.
Similar to Waterfront Pavilion on McKinney Road in nature, the more renowned it was, the more ’striking’ its prices were.
Yet Alfred Garland seemed unfazed, as he took out his phone again in the front passenger seat and called the manager of Imperial Hotel, requesting them to definitely keep a spot open.
*
On the other side of the airport.
Jeff Quinlan and Emilia Sullivan had been standing at the side of the airport road for quite a while now.
They were the first to disembark from the plane, and after collecting their luggage, they had been waiting by the road, looking like they would be waiting almost an hour.
Jeff Quinlan, growing impatient, lifted his wrist to glance at his watch, "Hasn’t Ghania arrived yet? Should we give them a call?"
Emilia Sullivan showed a look of discomfort, "...Let’s wait a bit longer."
"We’ve waited from boarding the plane to disembarking, how much longer do we have to wait here? It’s almost getting dark."
As he spoke, he saw a Buick pass by the roadside. Its black body gleamed impressively under the sunlight, and the license plate, starting with a low-profile yet impressive Beijing prefix, caught his eye.
Beijing.666888
With just this license plate number, it was apparent that it wasn’t a vehicle just anyone could afford to drive, and one could only wonder who sat inside.
After reflecting on this, he looked at his own reflection in the mirror of the roadside shops: holding his luggage, looking haggard and exhausted standing on the side of the road, scarcely different from the migrant workers who come to Beijing to find work.
His heart clenched.
He remembered Emilia Sullivan saying that Nathalie Quinlan might catch the next flight to Beijing.
He couldn’t help wondering if Nathalie Quinlan, upon her arrival, would experience the same, with no one from the Zachmann Family there to pick her up, leaving her to wait on the side of the road at the airport. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
*
The Buick soon stopped in front of a restaurant on Rustaveli Road.
Alfred Garland turned to inform the two in the back seat, "Ms. Quinlan, Amadeus, we’re here."
Through the rearview mirror, the Yancey Family driver could see the girl sitting next to their young master lifting her head, her eyes were black as ink, her face pale and pretty with a hint of sleepiness, and her eyes fiercely spirited.
She didn’t seem to have any of the delicate airs expected of a Beijing high society Miss.
There was a sharp, tough aura about her, as if she had mixed with rough crowds.
But she was too beautiful, even with the duckbill cap she wore, it couldn’t hide her lovely face, and the driver found it impossible to link her with the words ’little hooligan’.
