Chapter Thirty-Two

We deplane and settle in the limo while our luggage is loaded. Mostly my luggage, because I didn’t have the foresight to consolidate and compartmentalize, so that I’d only need one suitcase to accompany us for the three nights we’ll be in London. I make a mental note to reorganize and be more efficient, letting myself a little off the hook by contending I’ll be picking up an additional wardrobe along the way and I’ll have to accommodate those supplemental items.

As we leave the private, executive terminal, visions of conservative cocktail dresses and more risqué late-night attire dance through my head. I also try to take in the scenery. It’s early morning and foggy. The gray mist weaves through the trees and buildings. There’s an odd comfort to the haze, laced with an eerie sensation. It feels mysterious and sensual, lazy yet…ominous.

I’ve discovered I’m a huge fan of ominous.

It’s not necessarily a menacing word, encompassing of evil connotations. It’s more seductively foreboding, su