Charles closes his laptop, picks up his glass of Glenfiddich, and walks slowly through the door leading from the bar to the terrace that faces Mt. Kenya. From the perfectly manicured grounds below, his senses are filled with the fragrance of lilacs and roses. He can hear the faint sound of the sprinklers as they bathe the garden area with its’ needed moisture. It’s about 9 pm, and there is a beautiful full moon illuminating the peak of Mt. Kenya.
“What a slice of heaven this place is,” he thought to himself. “Ya’ know, it was great to hear from Meredith. I meant to ask more about Claire.”
Setting his glass down on the terrace railing, “What the hell did I just get myself into?”