35
Ming-Mei put her phone away and smiled at Terry
Flynn. The Lobby Bar was half full, but he sat alone. She gazed around at the bright ceiling, the gaudy floor, and the white pillars that looked like frozen waves. It was a far cry from a typical American bar. Those catered to anonymity. This one seemed designed for the purpose of being seen in a chic setting with the right people.
Flynn didn’t appear to care about that, or simply didn’t notice. As Ming-Mei arrived, the server was just replacing his empty glass with a fresh one. She wondered how many had come before.
“What are you drinking?” she asked, leaving her medical mask dangling under her chin so he could see her face.
“Ah ... Brooke Chappelle’s friend.”
“Dylan.”
“I’m drinking bourbon.” He gave a sloppy smile and raised his g
