After the Storm

by Amy Knupp

  “I’m doing okay. Surgery went well.” Blah, blah, blah. “Listen, can you track down Cooper for me? The punk turned his phone off.”

  “He’s not here. They had a call,” she told him. “A house fire. The engine and truck both left about twenty minutes ago.”

  The pang of excitement that shot through him at the mention of a fire was as ingrained as the need for three large meals a day. “Where is it?” he asked. “Was anybody in the house? Did they lay a line?”

  “Slow down, ace. I don’t know much about it. You’d have to talk to Lorraine but she’s keeping kind of busy at the moment.”

  If the dispatcher was busy, then the fire was the real deal. He’d have to wait to get the lowdown from his roommate when he got off duty.

  “You want me to tell Cooper you called?”

  Penn eyed Nadia, who stood with her arms crossed, watching him expectantly. He was not getting a ride home from her—he’d rather hang out in this hellhole for a few extra hours. And it could definitely be hours if the fire was a big one.

  “You do that, Vickie. Thanks,” Penn said before ending the call.

  “Oh, dear.” Chantelle was looking down at her pager as she rushed toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

  “Penn, I really don’t mind driving you home,” Nadia said once they were alone again. “It’s the least I can do.”

  He looked away from her, out into the hallway at nothing, clenching his teeth so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack his jaw. Two weeks ago he’d been playing football with the guys at the station. Hitting the bars on his nights off. Helping his team win the Shell Shack Beach Volleyball Championship. Now he couldn’t even drive a damn car.

  He was thirty-one years old. In the prime of his life, supposedly. And he was now dependent on help to get anywhere. Humiliating.

  “One of the guys will take me home,” he said as forcefully as he could. He didn’t want this to turn into a big deal.

  “Do you have any family you could call?”

  “My family lives eight hundred miles away.” And there was also the small detail that he hadn’t yet told them about his injury. “I’d like to be by myself right now, Nadia.”

  She studied him for several seconds.

  “Really,” he assured her. “This isn’t your problem.”

  Nadia breathed in audibly and shot him a sympathetic look. “Okay, I’ll give up this time. But I’m bringing you dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll be there at six.”

  “Thanks, but there’s no need.”

  “Say no all you want—I’m still showing up. I want to do this, Penn.”

  Yeah, well, he wanted peace, but because of her hard head, it didn’t seem he was going to get it. Maybe if he agreed to it, she’d get over her guilt or whatever was driving her and that would be that. “Fine,” he said tiredly. “Six o’clock.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NADIA WAS A MASTER JUGGLER. As the director of events and marketing at one of the largest hotels on the island, she had to be. The first day back after a business trip was always something akin to nearly contained chaos, but throw in a hurricane, too, and all bets were off.

  She was pretty sure she was on the verge of dropping a ball.

  “Mark, we’re missing three tables in Coquina. And leave enough room along the back wall for the servers this time, even if you have to move the other tables closer together.”

  “You got it.”

  “Wasn’t the group in Sand Dollar supposed to be done at four o’clock?” Cheryl, one of Nadia’s assistants and a good part of the reason she retained any sanity, asked as Nadia rushed by.

  Nadia stopped in the second-floor hallway outside the smaller of two ballrooms and checked her watch. It was twelve after. She referred to the master scheduling bible. “Yep. They’re cutting into our setup time for the Senior Golf Association dinner reception.”

  Muffled applause came from behind the closed doors and Nadia breathed a tiny bit easier at the signal that they were finishing their seminar.

  “You guys will just have to hustle times two. As soon as this group starts clearing out, you can begin working at the front of the room. Subtly, of course. I’d help you if I didn’t have a meeting.”

  “We’ve got it covered,” Cheryl said. “No worries.”

  “Bless you,” Nadia said as she hurried toward the trio of small meeting rooms to make sure everything was going smoothly.

  In truth, the three different groups holding conventions at the hotel would most likely be a little more forgiving than usual because of the storm last week, but Nadia didn’t want to bank on that. Two of them were new business for the hotel, and she desperately needed them to rebook for next year. Having everything go perfectly, especially right after Hurricane Jezebel ripped through so nearby, would go a long way toward making that happen.

  “There you are, Nadia.”

  Her mother’s voice made her stop and turn around. She threw her arms around the older woman as soon as she was close enough.

  “Hey, Mom.” She hugged her extratight. They hadn’t seen each other since the day before the mandatory evacuation, over a week ago. Though they lived together, Nadia had checked in to work so late yesterday afternoon after her trip that she’d ended up crashing in the hotel room she had perpetually reserved for herself for such occasions.

  “You look good,” her mom said as they pulled apart.

  Nadia wished she could return the compliment, but the bags under her mom’s eyes were deep and dark, her hair dull and brittle-looking. She knew her mom’s stress was snowballing because of the financial troubles the hotel had been suffering, and it killed Nadia that she couldn’t seem to work hard enough to turn things around.

  Her family had been running the Silver Sands for twenty or so years and had owned it for fourteen of those. After a few years of dynamic growth and financial success, they were definitely feeling the effects of the poor national economy. Though many in the industry had similar woes, that fact did little to comfort Nadia. Not when she’d lived through rock bottom with her parents before and still had haunting memories of what it had done to her mother.

  “How was Chicago?” her mom asked.

  “I made some good contacts. The planners for a national accountants’ association booked an appointment to see the property in a couple of weeks. Their annual conference is usually a little over a thousand people. I need to check on Starfish to make sure everything’s okay. Walk with me?”

  Her mom fell into step with her toward the meeting rooms, her arms crossed. “Good going on the contacts. You got my email, right?”

  “About the roof damage?” Nadia asked. “Sounds like it could have been worse.” Thank God for insurance.

  “Without a doubt. The Beachcomber had to close temporarily. Winona doesn’t know for how long. It took five days to get the insurance people out there.”

  “Ouch.” Nadia stole a long look at her mom. Joyce Hamlin was trying hard to hide her worry. She’d taken time to apply makeup today, something she didn’t do very often. When she noticed Nadia staring, she looked away.

  “Why are you handling this, Nadia?” She swept her hand toward the meeting rooms looming in front of them. “You have people to see to the details and the day-to-day.”

  “Just making double sure everything’s okay since these groups made a point of not canceling so soon after the storm.”

  “You haven’t even started the process to replace Simon yet, have you?” Her mother pegged her with a look of disapproval.

  “I haven’t had time,” Nadia hedged.

  In truth, she’d purposely put off hiring a new events manager. Though she wasn’t naive or egotistical enough to think she could do both jobs at once, her hope had been that she and a couple others could cover the manager’s duties for a few months. But all of them were working extra hours and still not handling it well. No surprise. Simon had been a rock star and overseen, well, a lot. More than three normal people could do. Nadia had just wanted to save a l
ittle money by putting off hiring. With more than one national chain having shown an interest in buying their property, every dollar counted.

  “I want you to line up interviews this week,” her mom said, slipping into the take-charge, accept-no-excuses tone that got things done in every department of the hotel.

  “I’ll see if I can get that organized.”

  “Nadia, I mean it. You can’t continue to work sixty-hour weeks. Get it done.”

  Seventy-hour, not that Nadia was counting. Her social life had taken a hit the past couple of months, but that was okay. She’d cut out the casual dating she’d loved but still made a point of seeing her friends regularly. That was the nature of her career. She didn’t remember the last time she’d worked a mere forty hours a week, and she was 99 percent sure her mother never had.

  The doors of the meeting room on the far left were open so Nadia and her mother ducked their heads in. The room was laid out exactly as diagrammed in the bible. The refreshment table looked well stocked and everything seemed under control. They checked the other two rooms and confirmed that the staff was on top of everything, then headed back down the hall.

  “I need to run back to my office,” Nadia said, again checking her watch and then swearing. “I hope she’s not early.”

  “Who are you meeting with?” her mom asked.

  “Lily Herzinger and her mother. Lily’s the one whose wedding was supposed to take place right when the eye of the hurricane was predicted to hit.”

  “Ah, yes. So they’re going to reschedule, right?” Her mom’s voice was hopeful as they walked in the direction of the corporate offices. The soft pink and ecru of the decor that Nadia had once found soothing now barely registered.

  “I hope so,” Nadia said, faking a wide grin. “They’ve chosen their new date. The twenty-eighth.”

  Her mom stopped in her tracks. “Of what month?”

  “This one.”

  “The twenty-eighth of October,” her mom repeated.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Ten days away. In the middle of the Nature’s Paint convention.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re meeting today so that I can convince her that we can indeed still accommodate her very large, very lucrative-to-us wedding. Because she’s been calling around to every other place on the island again to see what else is available.”

  Nadia had no idea how Simon had regularly dealt with bridezilla customers like Lily, but he’d had a talent for soothing them and earning their trust. Lily had been a challenge even for him, though, by taking weeks to commit to holding her reception at Silver Sands, and then changing every decision she’d made along the way at least a handful of times. It was enough to make Nadia pull her own hair out.

  At her mom’s silence, Nadia glanced over and could swear she had paled. Damn. She hadn’t wanted to give her mother any additional stress, but this was one that couldn’t be kept under wraps. If she could convince the Herzinger-Caldwells to stay with her, it would take lots of juggling to pull off the wedding during one of the biggest conventions they hosted every year. Fortunately, Nadia had never been put off by challenges—in fact, she thrived on them.

  “After your meeting, we need to get together. It’s not our usual dinner night but I could really use your opinion on some pressing budget issues,” her mom said, frowning. “We can grab something from the kitchen.”

  Getting each other’s perspectives had been something Nadia’s parents had always done, for as long as she could remember. When her dad had died, her mother began talking issues through with Nadia over the phone, even before Nadia had finished college and officially taken a job with the hotel. To her thinking, that was part of what made it a “family” business. They worked together, even though they both had their specific responsibilities. When one of them needed a sounding board, they dropped just about everything.

  “Sounds good,” Nadia said, and as the words came out of her mouth, she remembered her plans with Penn. Crap. “Don’t order me anything, though. I should be done with my meeting by five. Five-fifteen at the latest.” She could let Penn know she’d be a half hour late and squeeze in everything.

  “Ohh? Are you going out?” Her mother got that tone.

  “No. Not that kind of out. I’m taking dinner to a back-surgery patient who can barely move.” Wasn’t that a roundabout way of describing Penn Griffin?

  She’d gone to a questionably large amount of trouble to arrange a carryout gourmet dinner for two from the Bay City Grill, the very location of their failed date. They’d missed out on the excellent food that night. The least she could do was make up for that.

  “Who’s that?”

  “It’s a firefighter,” Nadia admitted as they approached her office. “A friend of Faith’s. He was injured during the storm. There’s Lily.” Thank God. Saved by the nightmare client waiting in the hallway. Or maybe the indecisive, commitment-phobic woman had technically slipped back into potential client status—for now. “I have to run.”

  Nadia turned away before her mother could see that her cheeks were burning. She’d never been good at hiding things from her mom, never had a lot of reason to. She shouldn’t be now, but she hadn’t told her about her own stupidity at evacuation time. Hadn’t found the nerve to confess her rotten decision that had ultimately led to Penn’s injury. The truth was that the files she’d risked Penn’s life for hadn’t ended up being vital, after all.

  The whole thing had been eating away at her, and even after Penn’s rejection yesterday and his decidedly cool attitude toward her, she was determined to do whatever she could to help him. She knew she could never make up for what she’d done, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PENN WAS GOING TO BE pissed.

  Nadia knew that, had known it even as she and her mom had continued discussing a possible restructure of the hotel’s management staff, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. It wasn’t as if she could just walk out on her mom, aka the hotel’s general manager and her boss.

  She’d texted Penn that she was running late and he’d never responded. And now it was ten till seven. She was double late.

  She knocked on his door, steeling herself. In the few months she’d known him, she’d done nothing but screw up with him. He had no reason to be friendly and she couldn’t even blame him.

  The door opened and Penn’s roommate, Cooper, who Nadia had met through Faith, smiled at her. “The infamous Nadia. What are you doing here?”

  Infamous? That didn’t sound good.

  “Hi, Cooper. I brought Penn dinner, as I promised. He’s probably annoyed that I’m late.”

  “He hasn’t said anything.” A look crossed Cooper’s face—something she couldn’t quite read, but it was safe to say it wasn’t a happy look. “You’re sure he knew you were coming?”

  “He knew,” she replied quietly as Cooper let her in the door. “Is that the kitchen?” She nodded toward a darkened room to her right.

  “Help yourself.”

  Nadia went in and lifted the bag up to the counter. Cooper followed her and looked curiously at the bag.

  “He’s here, right?” she said, doubt starting to take over.

  “In his room. First left in the hall. Not real active today, but you can go back and see if you can drag him out.”

  “Is he…okay?”

  Cooper chuckled dryly and shook his head, his shaggy dirty-blond hair shifting with the movement. “Okay? Griff can hardly walk. Not a lot of okay about it.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “I meant…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” Brushing past him, she went to find Penn’s room.

  When she reached the doorway between the kitchen and living room, Cooper spoke up. “I’m concerned about him.”

  She stopped and faced him to answer. “I am, too. I barely sleep at night from worrying.”

  He sized her up some more as if trying to decide whether she meant it. His features softened noticeably and
he boosted himself up to sit on the counter. “Between you and me, he’s too quiet,” he said. “Beyond what I’d expect under the circumstances. Hasn’t been out of bed all day.”

  “Could his pain medications be making him sleepy?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Could be, I guess. I don’t know… Maybe you can get through to him.”

  A knot tightened in her stomach as she walked away.

  Penn’s bedroom was dark, the door mostly closed. Without hesitating, she pushed it open and peeked inside.

  “Hello, Penn.” She stepped into the small darkened room, able to just barely make out his shape from the light that filtered in from the hallway.

  He was a silent lump on his bed, and again seeing him so uncharacteristically motionless made her falter. If she tried hard enough, she could almost make herself believe he was still fine, that he was just taking a nap and would soon hop out of bed and go about his normal life. His blankets stopped low on his hips showcasing a rock-hard abdomen. She had to remind herself to swallow. She’d seen him in swim trunks on the beach months ago and was well aware of his amazing body, but that didn’t stop her from thanking God his eyes remained closed as she stared.

  “Pretend you’re asleep all you want. I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

  He turned his head toward her. “What do you want, Nadia?”

  “I told you I was bringing you dinner tonight.” She brazenly turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

  “I’m not hungry.” He reached up slowly and put his hand behind his head, making his arm muscles flex in a distracting way.

  Even recovering from a serious injury, he made one heck of a pretty picture, Nadia thought. Except for the anger etched on his face.

  His dark hair was short and coarse, and she’d bet if he ever let it get longer it would be curly. His nose was narrow and straight, and the bone structure of his face was model perfect. Not like the metrosexual guys in clothing ads, more like a younger version of the Marlboro Man without the cigarette. His skin, though paler than she remembered, was still somewhat tanned all over, or as all over as she could see. She refused to think about the parts out of her view.