Insight of a Kenyan Girl

It had been a long evening, and work had been nothing short of brutal. My legs ached, my head throbbed, and my patience was wearing thin. I had about twenty more clients to check in, each one arriving at their own unpredictable schedule, oblivious to how exhausting it was to juggle them all.

I was just about to take a breath—just one damn moment to myself—when my phone buzzed.

“One more client just arrived,” the front desk informed me.

Suppressing a sigh, I pulled up the reservation details. His name was unfamiliar, just like the dozens I had checked in before, and if I were being honest, I wasn’t looking forward to another late-night interaction. But duty called, so I grabbed the golf cart keys and hopped in, pushing the little machine to its absolute limits.

The wind whipped past me as I sped through the dimly lit pathways, weaving between palm trees and stone lanterns. My mind was already on autopilot, mentally preparing my polite but distant customer-service smile when—

SCREECH!

A blur of headlights came rushing toward me. My breath caught in my throat as I slammed the brakes, the golf cart skidding to a shaky halt just inches from an oncoming car. My pulse pounded in my ears, my hands gripping the wheel tightly as I turned to face the driver, who looked just as startled as I felt.

I forced a sheepish smile, lifting a hand in apology before shifting my gaze—and that’s when I saw him.

He stood just a few feet away, looking utterly drained. His duffel bag hung loosely over his shoulder, his tousled hair slightly damp from the humidity. There was something effortlessly charming about him, even in his exhaustion. His hoodie was slightly wrinkled, his jawline rough with the beginnings of stubble, and yet… damn. He was adorable.

For a second, we just looked at each other, neither of us speaking. There was an unspoken understanding in that moment—he was tired, I was tired, and yet here we were, thrown into each other’s path by pure circumstance.

Snapping back to reality, I cleared my throat. “Mr. Carter?”

He blinked, then gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

His voice was deeper than I expected, smooth but quiet.

Gesturing for him to follow, I tried to shake off the strange flutter in my chest. This was just another client. Nothing special.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your villa,” I said, hopping off the cart and motioning for him to sit.

He slid in beside me, his scent—a mix of fresh cologne and travel-worn fabric—faint but noticeable. I swallowed, gripping the wheel just a little tighter as I pulled away, this time at a much more reasonable speed.

The ride was mostly silent. He didn’t seem like the chatty type, and I wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or just his personality. Either way, I found myself stealing glances at him, trying to piece together what kind of man he was.

We finally reached his villa, a secluded space surrounded by lush greenery. I stepped out first, unlocking the door and holding it open for him.

“You’ve had a long trip,” I said, offering a small smile. “Everything should be set up for you, but if you need anything, just call the front desk.”

He nodded again, then hesitated.

I saw the moment of conflict on his face, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. I don’t know what possessed me, but I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small notepad, quickly scribbling down my number.

“In case you need anything,” I said, handing it to him.

His fingers brushed mine as he took the paper, and I felt an unexpected jolt—like static, but warmer.

His gaze lingered on me for a second longer than necessary. “Thanks,” he murmured.

I nodded, forcing myself to step back before I made a fool of myself. “Goodnight, Mr. Carter.”

“Callum,” he corrected softly.

I paused, glancing back at him.

“Goodnight, Callum.”

As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on me. And for the first time all night, the exhaustion in my body didn’t feel quite as heavy.

What I didn’t know then was that this wasn’t just another guest.

This was the start of something I never saw coming.