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It was dark, and I could see very little of the home that Charles' driver was approaching, though I saw the gates open and could make out at least three stories of flowing glass and warm-colored wood inside. There appeared to be stone walls and underfoot as we walked up toward an enormous door. "I wish you were seeing it under better circumstances," he said. "I love this place, and I want you to feel totally at home here." He pressed a code into a keypad and the door clicked open. Charles pushed it wide and gestured for me to walk in. As I did, lights turned on at my movement and I saw dark, shining black surfaces next to warm woods, and soft looking leather sofas and chairs arranged on beautiful white woven carpet. Above me the ceiling stretched up three stories, most of the walls we