Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Fortunately, when they find me eating dinner alone outside the cafeteria, purposely away from the crowds, they assume I look so haggard and unkept because I’m upset about the weather.
Camila hurries over and wraps her arms around me. “No! Have you been crying? Don’t be worried, Paige. We’re really protected here, and I don’t even think we’re in the direct path or anything.”
Camila squeezes me tighter, and I almost shatter into heavy sobs.
Lara shakes her head. “I’ve been checking the projections all day, and there’s a slight chance it could veer—”
“Lara,” Camila cuts her off sharply. “Not now.”
She nods in my direction, as if to say, Clearly she can’t handle the truth.
I can’t. Baby me. Wrap me in a swaddle and rock me to sleep because this day has got to end.
“You want my dessert from dinner? I got a strawberry mousse. Here.”
They end up tugging out the chairs on either side of me at the table and keeping me company while I pick at the mousse. It’s easy to be with them because they’re a self-sustaining duo. I’m really only a seat filler, and while that might sound overly critical, it’s actually nice for someone like me, who enjoys the company without having to actively be in the spotlight. The two of them talk so fast, about so much, that oftentimes I feel like a spectator at a tennis match, my head on a constant swivel. Once they’ve exhausted all speculations about the storm, Camila brings up Blaze.
“How is that all going, by the way?” Camila asks me. “You told us that you had fun, but has Blaze reached out again? Tried to get something going for date number two?”
My date with Blaze feels like a million lifetimes ago. I’ve aged ten years since Friday. My faith in humanity, in men, has dwindled down to nothing.
Still, I shake my head. “No word yet. I haven’t seen him since Friday, but I think everyone’s been busy . . .”
“Yeah, this place has been insane the last few days.”
It only now occurs to me that I should probably be anxiously awaiting contact from Blaze. A phone call or text would be nice, though difficult, considering he doesn’t have my phone number. But he could get it from someone if he asked around. It’s also not that hard to find people around here, between staff housing, the cafeteria, and the break room. To his credit, I’ve been out on excursions the last few days, and then I spent a good deal of today talking to a mop in a storage closet, so how was he going to find me?
Cole found me . . .
“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out,” I tack on, feeling very zen about the whole thing.
Now that I’ve cried out all my bodily fluids, a strange calm has settled over me. Nothing can faze me now, not even Cole’s dumb face.
Which is good, considering what’s to come . . .
Chapter Fifteen
PAIGE
My big plans for the night consist of rolling myself into a blanket until I resemble a human burrito and then turning in early. I’m going for a solid twelve, but I will accept a paltry eleven hours of sleep as well. My shift starts later than usual tomorrow, so I could really stretch this night of misery out if I wanted, but my plans get derailed by an ominous text message.
I’ve just polished off the mousse when my phone buzzes, right along with Camila’s and Lara’s.
“What the hell?”
Mandatory All-Staff Meeting
10 PM in the Turtle Cove Ballroom
“Oh, c’mon, are you kidding me?!” Lara groans.
“What could be so important?”
Hurricane Dominic, of course.
I consider skipping it. I mean, I’m getting fired anyway, so what more could they do to me? Unfortunately, it would only draw questions from Lara and Camila—I’m not someone to buck the rules, and a mandatory all-staff meeting is . . . mandatory. When it’s time, I shuffle along behind Camila and Lara, a veritable zombie. There’s no telling what this harsh hallway lighting is doing to my already splotchy complexion and puffy eyes. I keep my focus on the carpet and my head down so I can hide behind my sheath of hair as I join the chatty group of staff members already gathered in the packed ballroom.
Speculations are flying.
“I hear they’re going to move us out of staff housing.”
“Where would we go?”
“In the hotel, I guess. It’s much safer, and it has generators. Y’know, if it gets that bad . . .”
In the ballroom, they’ve set out chairs in neat rows, but there won’t be enough for everyone, which is fine by me.
Lara and Camila start to head toward the front, near the stage. I let the crowd surge around me before I break off and head toward the back, near a trash can. By the time they realize I’m not behind them, it’s too late to do anything about it. They look back, worried, but I do a classic rendition of an apathetic shrug before I post up against the wall.