"Wait for me ten minutes, no, twenty minutes," Charlize instructed the driver Glover before straightening her casual clothes, then clutching her clutch and heading towards the brightly lit Melita Hotel.
Circumventing the throng of reporters stationed at the front door, she entered through a side entrance but was stopped outside the lobby.
"Your name isn't on the list, miss," said the attendant at the door.
"Indeed, my name isn't on the list, but I am Mr. Adrian Cowell's private assistant, and I urgently need to see him," Charlize tried to explain, but no matter what she said, the attendant was adamant about one thing: no entry without being on the list.
Charlize was close to losing her cool when she spotted a familiar face passing through the doorway and immediately called out to him, "Laverne, thank goodness, can you please convince this guy to let me in!"
"Charli? What's happened?" Laverne, who was stepping out for some air, recognized Charlize.