--------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><b>Name:</b>Sonja Bowerson<br/><b>Location:</b>Entrance lobby<br/><b>With:</b>Everyone in the entrance lobby<br/><b>Doing:</b>Looking for someone to tell her where her suitcase is<br/><b>Content Warning:</b>None<br/>---------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>"Why am I doing this again?" Sonja Bowerson sat in the back of the car that had picked her up from the airport. She was tired, grumpy, jet-lagged and in need of a shower. Or preferably a long hot bath, and a chilled glass of Provence rosé wine. There had been a mix-up with her transfer ticket and her luggage had apparently gone via "the pretty route". The organisers were<i>most</i>apologetic, and assured her they would get her case to her by any means necessary. Fortunately she was an experienced traveller, and had a change of underwear plus all essentials in her hand luggage - small clear plastic bottles in a clear plastic bag.<br/><br/>It had take her a good five minutes to get her smartphone to connect to a local network and now she was talking to Andrew, her business partner back in the UK. "Because you need a break from running the business and cooking the meals. You need time away, with new people who aren't insisting that you be perfect all the time, so you can relax..."<br/><br/>"Yeah, I could have gone on a Club 18-30 holiday for that...!"<br/><br/>"True, but think of the publicity when the TV show airs. I'm sure you can get some name-drops in. That's free advertising, world wide!"<br/><br/>Sonja sighed. It had all seemed so logical back in the UK when Andy had persuaded her to apply. Being accepted was actually the high point of the last couple of months, and they had pre-empted the show's own adverts by putting their own publicity up: "Head chef, Sonja Bowerson will be appearing on The House, a new live reality TV show, starting in a few weeks, on E!".  Interestingly, the sort of people who watched that station were exactly the sort of customers (according to their market research) that the restaurant needed.<br/><br/>The car pulled into the grounds and Sonja looked around, suitably impressed. "Nice... I think we're here. I'll call you later, okay? And if my luggage doesn't show up by tomorrow morning, you get our solicitor onto it, okay?" She hung up, and stepped out of the car as the driver opened the door for her. She was wearing<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fsoaps.sheknows.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2017%2F05%2FRisa-Dorken-Ball-GH-TW.jpg&amp;hash=5eafeee57b85845ede6fe3b913930e3e" href="http://soaps.sheknows.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Risa-Dorken-Ball-GH-TW.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">a light silk summer dress</a>that emphasized rather than hid her curves. Sonja was not in the least bit ashamed of her full figure. She swished up to the entrance, seeing the people gathered there.<br/><br/>"Hello? I'm Sonja. Is anyone in charge here? I need to know what has happened to my suitcase!"