Exhaustion had crept up on me by the time I got home, and I had no desire to dine out. Thanks to my secretary, I knew the cupboard wouldn’t be bare, but while I didn’t have to stop at the local butcher or visit the grocery store for what I’d need for dinner and for tomorrow’s breakfast, I still had to get dinner started. I dropped my suitcases in the entryway and went into the kitchen to study the contents of my refrigerator.
“Bless you, Gwen,” I murmured. She’d picked up a beautifully marbled, two-inch-thick steak. I checked the pantry, and sure enough, there was a bag of potatoes.
I set the oven to preheat, then lugged my suitcases to my bedroom to unpack and sort my clothes. They didn’t all need to go to the Chinese laundry I used, but I wanted every vestige of my trip to South Africa
