Chapter 4: Nothing Personal
Jack instantly regretted the words when he turned his head slightly and caught her facial expression.
Why the hell hadn’t he just gone to bed after feeding her?
He continued to stare up at the ceiling, in the uncomfortable silence that followed, and soon he began contemplating his exit.
“That’s an interesting assessment.” She said after a time, her voice was different, flat. She was trying to cover being offended.
He gently shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean it’s true, right?”
Jack wanted to blow off the statement. The last thing he needed was his unexpected guest getting all in her feelings over a throwaway line.
“Is that one of your questions?”
A grin lanced his mouth, but he didn’t look at her. “No. Whose turn was it yours or mine?”
“Mine.” She answered quickly. “Are you a professional mechanic?”
“I’m from the south, we’re all mechanics.”
She snorted, quickly chopping it off. “You so didn’t answer my question.”
“I do fix things.” He answered honestly. “Cars would be among ‘em.”
“And how is it that you sorta live out here? How can someone sort of live in a place? I don’t get that.”
“Is that a question or an observation?” He asked, glancing at her with furrowed brows.
She snapped her mouth closed, and he wondered if he’d scared her again.
“A little of both I guess.”
He eased into a sitting position on the couch before placing his bare feet back on the floor.
“Sort of living out here means sometimes I am here living - and sometimes I’m not.”
Lamplight turned her skin a bronzy gold, under his gaze she pressed back slightly in her seat, and the fabric against her chest shifted, his gaze followed suit to the empty corner of her chair.
An intake of breath from her forced him to make eye contact.
“So you’re like - a drifter.”
He stared at her with a guarded expression. “Now that’s an interesting assessment.” He took another swig of his beer. “I got no dessert for ya, my humble apologies.” She pursed her mouth at his remark. “Is this the end of our twenty questions?”
“Did I ask you twenty questions?”
“Sure as hell feels like it.” He polished off the last of the beer before setting the empty bottle on the table.
“I appreciate you for entertaining me then, even if you didn’t want to.”
“I’ll bring you some blankets, sometimes it gets cold at night.”
Ciara didn’t feel it at the moment. The rain had cooled the air temporarily, but now a muggy heat was creeping back around her.
She still didn’t know how to feel about her predicament. She was trying her best to appear more relaxed, but there was a weariness in the back of her mind that she knew wouldn’t completely dissipate until she was back in D.C.
He left her company after he spoke. And she didn’t know if she should feel at ease or more agitated with him out of view.
It was so odd having a conversation with him. She wasn’t quite sure what he thought of her, and vice versa.
And it shouldn’t even have mattered, maybe she just kept thinking so much so that the silence and
uncertainty of her situation wouldn’t fully weigh down on her.
What if there was no friend coming in the morning?
All she had was the word of a stranger.
Getting an ounce of sleep was out of the question, she would more than likely jump at every creak and shadow.
She was just going to have to kill Phillip.
The thought quelled some of her anxiety.
Jack returned with two blankets and a pillow. She silently prayed they didn’t smell like the rest of the house.
She stood to accept them, fully realizing their height discrepancy due to their closeness.
She smiled. “Thank you.” Her hand grazed his forearm beneath the blanket.
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped back, thumbing behind him. “There’s more water in the frig if you get thirsty during the night.”
Ciara nodded. “Okay.”
He turned away from her, his mouth twisted briefly as if he would say more. ‘Goodnight’ maybe? But he left, and his steps made hardly a sound on the floor.
She had been right in her previous thought, he could be very intimidating if he chose not to smile. Though he wasn’t terrible looking.
Not really her type, but not ugly.
She sat back down on the couch after briefly sniffing the blankets.
With her legs tucked under her, the days events rewinded through her head. She’d awoken that morning thinking that today was the day her life was going to change. She was going to get things sorted out and somehow be able to make sense of it all.
When she got to therapy, she would just lay it all out and get her answers.
But none of that happened, and then Phillip called and then she got lost, and she ended up in the woods with a redneck mechanic who thought she was - spoiled. Her cheeks burned with unwanted embarrassment just thinking about it.
Ciara shut her eyes, and lowered her head. Her mind was frazzled - her life was frazzled.
And this was going to be one long night.
Jack shut the door quietly behind him, and immediately pulled off the shirt that sweat had plastered to the center of his back. All the others he had were dirty, and since he had company, he couldn’t go his typical route of being shirtless.
He unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down before tossing them in an ancient wicker rocking chair he wouldn’t dare sit in.
Laying across the edge of his bed on his stomach he let out a sigh.
It was a little after ten, he’d expected to get into bed an hour earlier. His old school alarm clock was set for 6:30 a.m. sharp.
After fifteen minutes his eyes were burning but he still wasn’t asleep. He couldn’t understand how she’d managed to find his place after her car broke down. Why hadn’t she just walked back to the highway?
Maybe he should have just gotten a flashlight and went and looked at her car. He might have been able to get it going, and then she wouldn’t be in the living room, with his only fan.
So against his better judgment, he let her into his place only for her to look around and tell him he should ‘hire a decorator’.
“Damned east coast women.” Was the last thing he murmured before falling asleep.
Dawn finally arrived, Ciara watched the sky morph from navy to flushed pink and finally to the bright, sunlit morning that made her smile despite fatigue. Night was over, and she’d made it through. She went to the porch and retrieved her dress, briefly she stood there, scanning her surroundings. The smell of the rose
bushes that flanked the house skimmed her nose, and birds chirped in the distance.
There was a peacefulness to it all, if you were into that sort of thing.
“Did my alarm clock wake you up-”
“Holy shit!” Ciara spun around to face Jack who was standing in the doorway pulling his shirt down.
He stopped and his eyes widened at her reaction, before returning to what was probably his usual flat stare.
“Good morning!” She said breathlessly. “Usually people say ‘good morning’ when they wake up.”
His chin jerked down, making her notice the new days beard stubble that shadowed his cheeks.
“Good mornin’, ma’am.” And his strange, intense eyes veered away from her. He was wearing his clothes from the previous day, they were slightly wrinkled, but looked better than her pretty much ruined silk dress.
It was going in the nearest trash bin when she got home.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. You just - scared me Jack. Why don’t you make any noise when you walk?”
“I’ll try to make more noise next time, ma’am.”
Was he joking, she gnashed her teeth behind closed lips because she couldn’t tell.
“That would be great, thanks.” A flashed smile accompanied her sarcasm and she made a hasty exit through the door.
Intent on getting into the bathroom to quickly change her thigh grazed his as she rushed passed.
When the door closed shut behind her Jack reached into his pocket for his last piece of gum and popped it into his mouth before stepping out on the front porch.
Thankfully, it didn’t feel quite as humid as the previous day.
His mind wandered for several minutes until she was standing in the doorway, holding her purse in a wrinkled dress. Her face was bright and alert, completely devoid of makeup, and she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
When he glanced down her profile he could see she was wearing those shoes.
“What?” Ciara asked.
Jack shook his head. “Nothin’, I didn’t say a thing.”
“You didn’t have to say it. My shoes are dirty, my dress is wrinkled. I look a hot mess.”
His sigh was short. “Do you have all your stuff? ‘Cause I’m about to close up.”
She nodded quickly and stepped onto the porch he quickly went into the living room to retrieve his black duffel bag.
The hedge lined trail that led away from his cottage seemed even longer than it did when they were running through a torrent of rain. And it made her wonder yet again, why an average person would want to be so isolated from the rest of the world.
But - perhaps he wasn’t so average.
She decided not to make conversation, and nature made up for the silence between them with occasional tweets and cricket chirping.
They finally made it to the detached garage, and Ciara saw that no ride was waiting for them.
Were they late? Early?
Anxiety made her stab her heel into the ground as Jack walked in front of her. He went to the open garage and snatched off a paper that clung to the door.
She watched as he read it.
After a brief silence, impatience forced her tongue. “What’s going on?”
He crushed the note in his hand. “Nothing. Come on.”
“Are we seriously going to have to do more walking?” His back was to her and she glanced around her surroundings.
“No.” He’d rounded the building and was out of sight. Ciara clenched her teeth down, vulnerable dread flared sweat against her skin as she stood on dewy grass. A silent prayer left her lips that she just wanted to get home.
Ciara moved closer to where she’d heard his voice coming from. When she made it to the path she was him bent down, analyzing the side of a black and red motor cycle.
He glanced at her, standing. “A slight change in plan. Sam dropped it off. I hope you don’t hate bikes.” He added flatly.
She stared at him quizzically. “People just drop stuff off to you like this in the middle of the morning?”
“Sam’s a busy guy, and not very friendly usually. You didn’t miss much. Lemme check and see if I got a spare helmet.”
He rummaged around in the garage and returned. “Today’s your lucky day.”
He held a blue helmet that he was blowing dust off of. One look at her face and he said. “Why don’t you wear the one on the bike.”
Ciara became conscious of her dress and realized she was going to have to do some serious folding and more prayer before she was back in the city.
He helped her adjust the helmet. And she stared at his serious facial expression, and gave no reaction when his finger gently grazed her chin.
“So where am I taking you?”
When he made direct eye contact and posed the question, she realized she hadn’t thought about it. But she quickly dragged the ragged piece of paper out of her purse.
“Do you know where it is?” She asked after he took the paper.
Jack gave a quick nod. “Sure.”
“Thank God, one of us has a sense of direction.”
He grinned, turning away from her, and placed the slightly dusty helmet on his head.
Once he was on the bike, she realized she wasn’t going to get any assistance to join him.
So drawing her leg over the back of the bike she glanced at the overgrown, vegetation around them and would be eternally grateful to never see wilderness again.
“Just give me a sec.” She made sure she was sitting on the back of her dress.
“Do I need to like hold your back - or something?” She asked.
“Hold my back?” He asked, his drawl slightly muffled by his helmet. “How would you do that?”
“Well I’m trying to figure out how to not fall off this thing when we start moving.” She answered.
She pulled her legs up, and decided the bike really wasn’t made for two riders. Would it have been so hard for his friend to just wait?
“Just put your arms around my waist.”
Her knees were already touching the outside of his hips, and she rushed to tuck her dress under her legs again.
The navy cotton shirt he wore was fitted and she could see the indent of his spine. The span of his shoulders ridged with lean muscle.
Leaning forward, Ciara wrapped her arms just below his rib cage as the bike’s motor splintered the air around them. She swallowed, trying to adjust her arms to not hold him too tight as the cool leather and metal vibrated against her skin.
Scattering a trail of dust behind them, they made it down the trail, forcing her to recall the hours it took her by foot. And soon the pearl gleam of her useless BMW was in their line of vision.
Her brows knitted together when Jack stopped by the vehicle.
“So this is the car, huh?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
His whistle was long and low. “I’ll be sure to give you directions for the tow guy. Did you need to get anything out of it?”
“Nope, not a thing.”
Forty five minutes later they were in Annapolis, about a block from Phillip’s studio.
Ciara doubted she’d ever felt more relieved in her life. As he pulled over to the curb and came to a full stop she slipped off the bike and let her heels click against the marvelous well kept concrete.
She pulled the helmet off, not caring where her hair landed.
Her cell was vibrating her bag, it had probably been doing so since they’d been on the highway, but she hadn’t noticed.
The sky was fairly bright, and there was a breeze, and the side street was devoid of passersby for the moment.
Jack lifted the dark visor up. “So this is the spot then?”
She nodded. “God, I just - thank you so much!”
“Sure.”
“Would you at least take some money so I won’t feel bad about ruining your solitude?”
His eyes squinted briefly, implying amusement. He shook his head. “No.”
“All right. Okay.” She moved toward him, and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Take a hug then, it’s free.” She felt him tense slightly but she didn’t let go.
She stepped back from the curb, and offered a gentle wave.
“You know you never did tell me why you’d lie about being a professional model.”
Ciara paused, then a smile spread over her face. She leaned forward and kissed the side of his helmet. “Bye Jack.”
She walked off, pulling the cell out of her bag. And he turned on the engine, and sped away.
Four hours later
Jack sat in quiet contemplation, thankful for the earplugs he’d purchased after he left Ciara. He’d also bought a new pack of spearment gum.
His head rested on the back of the of the seat. He let his breathing slow, trying to empty his mind. Had he remembered to pack a few magazines in his bag?
A tall thin woman was speaking into an intercom. She smiled as she spoke, ending her short speech with:
“We hope you enjoy your visit to Bangkok, Thailand.”
Jack instantly regretted the words when he turned his head slightly and caught her facial expression.
Why the hell hadn’t he just gone to bed after feeding her?
He continued to stare up at the ceiling, in the uncomfortable silence that followed, and soon he began contemplating his exit.
“That’s an interesting assessment.” She said after a time, her voice was different, flat. She was trying to cover being offended.
He gently shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean it’s true, right?”
Jack wanted to blow off the statement. The last thing he needed was his unexpected guest getting all in her feelings over a throwaway line.
“Is that one of your questions?”
A grin lanced his mouth, but he didn’t look at her. “No. Whose turn was it yours or mine?”
“Mine.” She answered quickly. “Are you a professional mechanic?”
“I’m from the south, we’re all mechanics.”
She snorted, quickly chopping it off. “You so didn’t answer my question.”
“I do fix things.” He answered honestly. “Cars would be among ‘em.”
“And how is it that you sorta live out here? How can someone sort of live in a place? I don’t get that.”
“Is that a question or an observation?” He asked, glancing at her with furrowed brows.
She snapped her mouth closed, and he wondered if he’d scared her again.
“A little of both I guess.”
He eased into a sitting position on the couch before placing his bare feet back on the floor.
“Sort of living out here means sometimes I am here living - and sometimes I’m not.”
Lamplight turned her skin a bronzy gold, under his gaze she pressed back slightly in her seat, and the fabric against her chest shifted, his gaze followed suit to the empty corner of her chair.
An intake of breath from her forced him to make eye contact.
“So you’re like - a drifter.”
He stared at her with a guarded expression. “Now that’s an interesting assessment.” He took another swig of his beer. “I got no dessert for ya, my humble apologies.” She pursed her mouth at his remark. “Is this the end of our twenty questions?”
“Did I ask you twenty questions?”
“Sure as hell feels like it.” He polished off the last of the beer before setting the empty bottle on the table.
“I appreciate you for entertaining me then, even if you didn’t want to.”
“I’ll bring you some blankets, sometimes it gets cold at night.”
Ciara didn’t feel it at the moment. The rain had cooled the air temporarily, but now a muggy heat was creeping back around her.
She still didn’t know how to feel about her predicament. She was trying her best to appear more relaxed, but there was a weariness in the back of her mind that she knew wouldn’t completely dissipate until she was back in D.C.
He left her company after he spoke. And she didn’t know if she should feel at ease or more agitated with him out of view.
It was so odd having a conversation with him. She wasn’t quite sure what he thought of her, and vice versa.
And it shouldn’t even have mattered, maybe she just kept thinking so much so that the silence and
uncertainty of her situation wouldn’t fully weigh down on her.
What if there was no friend coming in the morning?
All she had was the word of a stranger.
Getting an ounce of sleep was out of the question, she would more than likely jump at every creak and shadow.
She was just going to have to kill Phillip.
The thought quelled some of her anxiety.
Jack returned with two blankets and a pillow. She silently prayed they didn’t smell like the rest of the house.
She stood to accept them, fully realizing their height discrepancy due to their closeness.
She smiled. “Thank you.” Her hand grazed his forearm beneath the blanket.
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped back, thumbing behind him. “There’s more water in the frig if you get thirsty during the night.”
Ciara nodded. “Okay.”
He turned away from her, his mouth twisted briefly as if he would say more. ‘Goodnight’ maybe? But he left, and his steps made hardly a sound on the floor.
She had been right in her previous thought, he could be very intimidating if he chose not to smile. Though he wasn’t terrible looking.
Not really her type, but not ugly.
She sat back down on the couch after briefly sniffing the blankets.
With her legs tucked under her, the days events rewinded through her head. She’d awoken that morning thinking that today was the day her life was going to change. She was going to get things sorted out and somehow be able to make sense of it all.
When she got to therapy, she would just lay it all out and get her answers.
But none of that happened, and then Phillip called and then she got lost, and she ended up in the woods with a redneck mechanic who thought she was - spoiled. Her cheeks burned with unwanted embarrassment just thinking about it.
Ciara shut her eyes, and lowered her head. Her mind was frazzled - her life was frazzled.
And this was going to be one long night.
Jack shut the door quietly behind him, and immediately pulled off the shirt that sweat had plastered to the center of his back. All the others he had were dirty, and since he had company, he couldn’t go his typical route of being shirtless.
He unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down before tossing them in an ancient wicker rocking chair he wouldn’t dare sit in.
Laying across the edge of his bed on his stomach he let out a sigh.
It was a little after ten, he’d expected to get into bed an hour earlier. His old school alarm clock was set for 6:30 a.m. sharp.
After fifteen minutes his eyes were burning but he still wasn’t asleep. He couldn’t understand how she’d managed to find his place after her car broke down. Why hadn’t she just walked back to the highway?
Maybe he should have just gotten a flashlight and went and looked at her car. He might have been able to get it going, and then she wouldn’t be in the living room, with his only fan.
So against his better judgment, he let her into his place only for her to look around and tell him he should ‘hire a decorator’.
“Damned east coast women.” Was the last thing he murmured before falling asleep.
Dawn finally arrived, Ciara watched the sky morph from navy to flushed pink and finally to the bright, sunlit morning that made her smile despite fatigue. Night was over, and she’d made it through. She went to the porch and retrieved her dress, briefly she stood there, scanning her surroundings. The smell of the rose
bushes that flanked the house skimmed her nose, and birds chirped in the distance.
There was a peacefulness to it all, if you were into that sort of thing.
“Did my alarm clock wake you up-”
“Holy shit!” Ciara spun around to face Jack who was standing in the doorway pulling his shirt down.
He stopped and his eyes widened at her reaction, before returning to what was probably his usual flat stare.
“Good morning!” She said breathlessly. “Usually people say ‘good morning’ when they wake up.”
His chin jerked down, making her notice the new days beard stubble that shadowed his cheeks.
“Good mornin’, ma’am.” And his strange, intense eyes veered away from her. He was wearing his clothes from the previous day, they were slightly wrinkled, but looked better than her pretty much ruined silk dress.
It was going in the nearest trash bin when she got home.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. You just - scared me Jack. Why don’t you make any noise when you walk?”
“I’ll try to make more noise next time, ma’am.”
Was he joking, she gnashed her teeth behind closed lips because she couldn’t tell.
“That would be great, thanks.” A flashed smile accompanied her sarcasm and she made a hasty exit through the door.
Intent on getting into the bathroom to quickly change her thigh grazed his as she rushed passed.
When the door closed shut behind her Jack reached into his pocket for his last piece of gum and popped it into his mouth before stepping out on the front porch.
Thankfully, it didn’t feel quite as humid as the previous day.
His mind wandered for several minutes until she was standing in the doorway, holding her purse in a wrinkled dress. Her face was bright and alert, completely devoid of makeup, and she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
When he glanced down her profile he could see she was wearing those shoes.
“What?” Ciara asked.
Jack shook his head. “Nothin’, I didn’t say a thing.”
“You didn’t have to say it. My shoes are dirty, my dress is wrinkled. I look a hot mess.”
His sigh was short. “Do you have all your stuff? ‘Cause I’m about to close up.”
She nodded quickly and stepped onto the porch he quickly went into the living room to retrieve his black duffel bag.
The hedge lined trail that led away from his cottage seemed even longer than it did when they were running through a torrent of rain. And it made her wonder yet again, why an average person would want to be so isolated from the rest of the world.
But - perhaps he wasn’t so average.
She decided not to make conversation, and nature made up for the silence between them with occasional tweets and cricket chirping.
They finally made it to the detached garage, and Ciara saw that no ride was waiting for them.
Were they late? Early?
Anxiety made her stab her heel into the ground as Jack walked in front of her. He went to the open garage and snatched off a paper that clung to the door.
She watched as he read it.
After a brief silence, impatience forced her tongue. “What’s going on?”
He crushed the note in his hand. “Nothing. Come on.”
“Are we seriously going to have to do more walking?” His back was to her and she glanced around her surroundings.
“No.” He’d rounded the building and was out of sight. Ciara clenched her teeth down, vulnerable dread flared sweat against her skin as she stood on dewy grass. A silent prayer left her lips that she just wanted to get home.
Ciara moved closer to where she’d heard his voice coming from. When she made it to the path she was him bent down, analyzing the side of a black and red motor cycle.
He glanced at her, standing. “A slight change in plan. Sam dropped it off. I hope you don’t hate bikes.” He added flatly.
She stared at him quizzically. “People just drop stuff off to you like this in the middle of the morning?”
“Sam’s a busy guy, and not very friendly usually. You didn’t miss much. Lemme check and see if I got a spare helmet.”
He rummaged around in the garage and returned. “Today’s your lucky day.”
He held a blue helmet that he was blowing dust off of. One look at her face and he said. “Why don’t you wear the one on the bike.”
Ciara became conscious of her dress and realized she was going to have to do some serious folding and more prayer before she was back in the city.
He helped her adjust the helmet. And she stared at his serious facial expression, and gave no reaction when his finger gently grazed her chin.
“So where am I taking you?”
When he made direct eye contact and posed the question, she realized she hadn’t thought about it. But she quickly dragged the ragged piece of paper out of her purse.
“Do you know where it is?” She asked after he took the paper.
Jack gave a quick nod. “Sure.”
“Thank God, one of us has a sense of direction.”
He grinned, turning away from her, and placed the slightly dusty helmet on his head.
Once he was on the bike, she realized she wasn’t going to get any assistance to join him.
So drawing her leg over the back of the bike she glanced at the overgrown, vegetation around them and would be eternally grateful to never see wilderness again.
“Just give me a sec.” She made sure she was sitting on the back of her dress.
“Do I need to like hold your back - or something?” She asked.
“Hold my back?” He asked, his drawl slightly muffled by his helmet. “How would you do that?”
“Well I’m trying to figure out how to not fall off this thing when we start moving.” She answered.
She pulled her legs up, and decided the bike really wasn’t made for two riders. Would it have been so hard for his friend to just wait?
“Just put your arms around my waist.”
Her knees were already touching the outside of his hips, and she rushed to tuck her dress under her legs again.
The navy cotton shirt he wore was fitted and she could see the indent of his spine. The span of his shoulders ridged with lean muscle.
Leaning forward, Ciara wrapped her arms just below his rib cage as the bike’s motor splintered the air around them. She swallowed, trying to adjust her arms to not hold him too tight as the cool leather and metal vibrated against her skin.
Scattering a trail of dust behind them, they made it down the trail, forcing her to recall the hours it took her by foot. And soon the pearl gleam of her useless BMW was in their line of vision.
Her brows knitted together when Jack stopped by the vehicle.
“So this is the car, huh?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
His whistle was long and low. “I’ll be sure to give you directions for the tow guy. Did you need to get anything out of it?”
“Nope, not a thing.”
Forty five minutes later they were in Annapolis, about a block from Phillip’s studio.
Ciara doubted she’d ever felt more relieved in her life. As he pulled over to the curb and came to a full stop she slipped off the bike and let her heels click against the marvelous well kept concrete.
She pulled the helmet off, not caring where her hair landed.
Her cell was vibrating her bag, it had probably been doing so since they’d been on the highway, but she hadn’t noticed.
The sky was fairly bright, and there was a breeze, and the side street was devoid of passersby for the moment.
Jack lifted the dark visor up. “So this is the spot then?”
She nodded. “God, I just - thank you so much!”
“Sure.”
“Would you at least take some money so I won’t feel bad about ruining your solitude?”
His eyes squinted briefly, implying amusement. He shook his head. “No.”
“All right. Okay.” She moved toward him, and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Take a hug then, it’s free.” She felt him tense slightly but she didn’t let go.
She stepped back from the curb, and offered a gentle wave.
“You know you never did tell me why you’d lie about being a professional model.”
Ciara paused, then a smile spread over her face. She leaned forward and kissed the side of his helmet. “Bye Jack.”
She walked off, pulling the cell out of her bag. And he turned on the engine, and sped away.
Four hours later
Jack sat in quiet contemplation, thankful for the earplugs he’d purchased after he left Ciara. He’d also bought a new pack of spearment gum.
His head rested on the back of the of the seat. He let his breathing slow, trying to empty his mind. Had he remembered to pack a few magazines in his bag?
A tall thin woman was speaking into an intercom. She smiled as she spoke, ending her short speech with:
“We hope you enjoy your visit to Bangkok, Thailand.”
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