From the direction of the sun, I’d say I’ve been roaming for at least a couple of hours. I’m feeling the heat intensify with every step in the burning sand, so I search for some shelter. About ten feet from me is a massive villa. It’s beautiful, and I wonder if they have a phone charger I can borrow.
The entire back area of the beach house faces the ocean with large glass patio doors. From my view, I don’t see anyone inside. There’s no vehicle around here either, so I’m betting no one’s home. I duck off to the side of the house and take shade under a large palm tree that makes it at least ten degrees cooler.
Hopefully they’ll be here soon. For now, my plan is to relax, but I can’t lie here forever, which means I’m going to have to call my mother. I seriously dread asking her for help especially because she’s the reason I’m in this spot in the first place. I don’t trust her, but frankly I’m out of options.
At twenty-two, I shouldn’t have to rely on my parents, and normally I wouldn’t. I feel tears fall from my eyes which pisses me off because I’m not sad, I’m angry. I swipe them away and try my best to chill.
I could call Charles too, but calling him means admitting defeat. He would love to remind me that he’d been right about my safety and I should have gone with him on vacation. As I consider powering up my phone and making the call to Charles, I decide I can’t handle his smugness. I’d rather die in the sand.
With my hands behind my head, I think about the only bright spot in my awful day: the man in the suit. His muscles could be made out through the material, and goodness—he was all man. I bite my lip, thinking about how good he’d look out of it. I’m losing all sense of decency apparently, but I still can’t shake the power that exuded from him as he spoke to the other man. With a sigh, I relax until I let my thirst and fatigue get the better of me and fall asleep.
A loud boom jolts me out of my sleep. “Oh no,” I cry out, standing and sliding in the sand as the rain comes down hard. Looking around, I see there’s a light on through the windows. A deafening, thunderous roar followed by a spectacular display of lightning has me dashing for the villa, hoping someone’s home now and it’s not just automatic lights. I don’t know whose residence it is, but I need to seek shelter and help. I knock, but no one answers. Another lightning strike hits on the water. I tug at the sliding door and surprisingly, it’s unlocked, and I walk in, calling out for assistance, but no one answers. Perhaps it’s one of those time-shares.
I creep through the beach house, and then I see the phone right on the table near the door. A notepad next to it says “The Jamison Hotel.” Shit, but it looks like someone’s staying here. Didn’t they say it was available? On the chair is a suit jacket. I call out and get no answer. I shouldn’t be in here, but I don’t really have anywhere else to go and the storm is too close for comfort. That last lightning strike was more than enough for me. I’ve watched too many nature shows to know it’s a bad idea to stay out in the open.
I walk into the living room and see a phone charger, so I throw up a silent thank you. Luckily, it fits my phone and I plug it in while I look around to see if someone’s here. I could have sworn a flash of movement came from the porch. I reach the front door and open it. Hmm…There’s a bag of food sitting on the mat. I bring in the bag so it doesn’t get drenched as the rain shifts direction, soaking the deck. I close the door and then turn, freezing immediately from the sight before me.
Chapter Two
Jamison
A tingling on the back of my neck takes me by surprise. I shake it off and talk to Marco about the upcoming weather alert. As I make my way to the meeting, I feel something pulling my attention. Instead of checking it out, I decide to go into my meeting with the maintenance man because we’re due to have some issues if the storm tonight turns violent. Our backup generators have been inspected last week, but bad weather can be dangerous to our guests.
About ten minutes into the meeting, I can’t let go of that feeling so I excuse myself, which takes them by surprise. I walk out into the lobby, but there’s nothing going on. In fact, the lobby’s empty except for my front desk manager, Nicole—a woman that I only keep employed because there are very few women in town and she’s good at her job. A pretty woman brings business. There’s no other way to put it; even if it’s wrong, it’s the truth.