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“Wait, are you actually pushing me to date your brother?” Daphne raised an eyebrow.
“What? No!” I exclaimed. “That would be weird seeing my brother with my best friend. And I can’t imagine you two kissing. No, I don’t even want to get that picture in my head! Ugh! Brain bleach! I’m just saying, don’t let age alone be a deal breaker. Look for kindness, compassion, humor, respect—things that really matter.”
Daphne nodded thoughtfully. “Just like August, huh?”
I exhaled sharply. “Don’t go there.”
“Just don’t shut yourself out completely,” she advised. “You might end up with regrets.”
Her words lingered in my mind as we enjoyed the rest of the afternoon and our treatments came to a gentle end. Afterwards, we both sat up, feeling refreshed yet contemplative.
Stretching, Daphne said, “Don’t laugh, but I’m hungry again.”
I chuckled. “So am I, actually.”
“Perfect timing,” she noted, eyeing the ornate clock. “Happy hour just started. Let’s get a drink and some nibbles before we figure out our next move. One more dawa for the road.”
“One drink. That’s it,” I cautioned.
“Deal,” she agreed, though we both knew I needed that drink more than her.
We were planning a swift visit to the bar and then a quiet exit, hoping August wouldn’t even realize we were gone until tomorrow. But as we entered the main tent, my heart sank. There were Caleb and August, already there, looking like they’d been waiting for us.
I leaned in and whispered to Daphne, “One drink and then we are out of here. I’ll give you a signal when.”
“What’s the signal?” she asked.
But before I could answer, August interrupted and said, “What a pleasant surprise. This just made my day.”
Caleb didn’t take his eyes off Daphne. “Mine, too. Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
“I thought you were resting in your tent,” I said, barely hiding my dismay.
“That had been the plan all along,” August said. “But after we showered and relaxed for a couple of hours, we were suddenly hungry again. We decided we didn’t want to wait until dinner to eat something, and here we are. A round of dawas for everyone?”
One drink, that’s it.
I nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
While Caleb and Daphne chatted amiably, August was busy ordering drinks and appetizers at the bar. Seizing the opportunity to avoid conversation with him, I drifted over to admire the local artwork adorning the walls. My gaze settled on a striking painting of a serene beach scene with palm trees and two chairs on the sand. It was labeled “Shangani Beach” in gleaming gold letters at the bottom of the canvas.
“It is truly a slice of paradise,” commented an employee, joining me in my appreciation of the artwork. “Have you ever been?”
I shook my head, “No, but I agree, it’s stunning. Where exactly is it?”
“In Zanzibar, a group of islands in the Indian Ocean, just off the coast of Tanzania,” he explained with a smile. “Shangani Beach is in Stone Town, the historical center and capital of Zanzibar. I highly recommend a visit if you ever get the chance.”
“How far is it from here?” I asked.
“It’s a ninety-minute flight from the Nairobi airport.”
“That certainly is tempting,” I mused, the idea of escaping there tugging at me as I admired the painting.
He wished me a good day and moved on, leaving me alone to contemplate our next move. I took out my phone to look up Zanzibar, intrigued by the painting and what the employee had shared. I casually glanced behind me to make sure August and Caleb were not watching, which they were not. The photos I found of Shangani Beach were breathtaking—white sand, clear blue waters, and lush greenery. It was exactly the escape I needed. Deciding then and there, I resolved to book our trip to Zanzibar as soon as we returned to our tent suite.
Just then, August’s voice broke through my research. “Veronica,” he called, beckoning me over with a raised glass.
I joined the group, accepting the drink August offered.
