'She is on her way'<br/><br/>Svetlana drew her cellphone from within her blazer thanks to its sending soft vibrations through her ribcage, and after reading those words off of its screen - and identifying the sender as one of the hotel's masseuses - she faintly smiled to herself.<br/><br/>One last look was given to the lovely pastoral portrait drawn from its starving, local artist's experiences in Russian farm life, and then she tossed her long empty cup of coffee into a trash bin and strolled from the hotel's small art galleria.<br/><br/>The escort-slash-businesswoman's naturally cold and neutral demeanor was by no means immutable, of course, comfortable though it may be.  All the way to the spa, she dutifully shed that frigid exterior so as to leave a warm, friendly and personable woman behind for Jennifer Hall to meet and perhaps acquaint herself with.<br/><br/>She, of course, did not have an appointment, but that did not mean that she couldn't be there; thus, shortly after Jennifer's arrival, Svetlana rises from her seat in the massage area's waiting room and approaches the American with a warm smile and an outstretched hand.<br/><br/>"Please," she lightly implores as she draws to a stop beforE Jennifer, "forgive my tardiness.  I was to have met you at the airport, to greet and acclimate you on behalf of Gazprom, but I fear that I was given the wrong arrival time.  I am Svetlana; we are lucky to have shared this thought, da?"