Chapter 6 utive Meeting
Executive Meeting
The executive conference room occupied the southwest corner of the administrative floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the open ocean.
On clear days, the view stretched unbroken to the horizon.
Today, a gray haze blurred the line between sea and sky, surrounding the room in an eerie light.
Palms bent in the wind, sending shadows dancing across the walls.
Emma arrived five minutes early, tablet tucked under one arm, coffee in hand, and claimed a seat midway down. Executive meetings at Ivory Tower started on time, no matter who was missing. She appreciated it. Late meetings were a terrible waste of everyone’s time.
The room was already half-full.
Nick stood at the head of the polished table with Nettie, the facilities manager, radiating controlled authority as always.
David leaned back in his chair near the windows, scrolling through something on his phone with the distracted focus of someone monitoring three things at once, his chaos contained only by his brilliance.
Unexpected muscles peaked out from under his short sleeves.
Emma’s lips quirked: Lena was right. He was a hot geek.
Peggy, the housekeeping manager, and Keith, the finance lead, sat opposite each other, reviewing documents, both wearing the same pre-opening uniform of khakis and resort polos.
Her eyes gravitated to Zach as he stood at the window, arms folded across his massive chest, scanning the undefined horizon like the storm might arrive if he looked away.
He too was in khakis, but his looked tactical, and he wore a dry-fit T-shirt that only emphasized the rock-hard muscles of his chest.
He was observing the room in the reflection. Watching her.
She shifted in her chair, unsettled.
She didn’t look at him, but she felt his presence the way she noticed a shift in air pressure before rain. She struggled to keep her eyes from drifting back to him.
Nick looked up as the last stragglers entered. “Let’s get started.”
Chairs settled. Conversations stopped.
Nick tapped the screen embedded in the table, and the wall monitor flickered to life. Weather radar filled the display—a sprawling mass of green and yellow pushing northwest across open water.
“Tropical disturbance forming about four hundred miles offshore,” Nick began. “National Hurricane Center upgraded it to a tropical depression this morning. Current models show it strengthening over the next forty-eight hours.”
Steph, the marina manager, leaned forward. “Projected path?”
“Variable,” David replied without looking up from his phone. “Three models have it turning northeast and staying offshore. Two have it continuing west-northwest. Straight toward us.”
Emma considered the radar loops. The system wasn't organized yet, but living in Florida had taught her that meant little. Storms had a nasty habit of surprising people.
“We’re not panicking,” Nick said. “But we are preparing. Standard hurricane protocol goes into effect as of this afternoon.”
Nettie nodded, already making notes. “I’ll get crews started on securing outdoor furniture and equipment.
Since we haven’t furnished the balconies, that will save a lot of time.
Hurricane shutters can be deployed within hours if needed.
David has them rigged for electronic deployment.
We’ll run a last test today to ensure they are all working.
Backup generators are fueled and tested. Water reserves are at capacity.”
“Good,” Nick said. “I want daily status reports until this thing either turns or dissipates.”
Emma set her coffee down. “What’s the plan for staff housing?”
All eyes shifted toward her.
“Most of the construction crew are housed in temporary quarters near the marina,” she continued.
“If we need to evacuate, we’re looking at transporting over two hundred people off the island with limited vessel capacity.
I’d like to establish clear communication protocols and identify essential personnel who’d stay behind. ”
“Evacuate? The storm is nowhere near that point. We’re too close to opening to even think of that!” Keith's look of shock was amusing, but ridiculous given their current location.
“Whether it’s needed this week or next year, a plan should still exist. Since there is a threat on the horizon, it would be better to over-plan now than to ignore the possibility and end up wrong.” Emma replied smoothly.
Zach spoke for the first time. “Evacuation is a possibility if the storm strengthens. We’re too far out to know, but Emma is correct. We need to have plans in place.”
Nick agreed. “Emma, please coordinate with Samson on construction, and work with Nettie and Steph on transport contingencies. Priority goes to non-essential staff first.”
He tapped the table once, a pensive look on his face. “The temporary quarters are scheduled to be removed next week?”
“Yes, beginning Tuesday.” Samson replied.
“Verify how long it will take. If it's more than two days, have them start on it immediately.”
“Got it.” Samson jotted a note on his pad.
Emma made a note. “I’ll have a preliminary evacuation plan by the end of day.” She swept her gaze over the managers present. “I’ll get with each of you for feedback. We’ll need to establish the final storm team who would stay on island, and the evacuation order of all non-essential personnel.”
“Great. I’ll leave it to you, Emma. Zach,” Nick said. “Security perspective?”
Zach turned from the window. When he spoke, the room seemed to lean toward him without anyone consciously moving.
“Perimeter checks twice daily until the storm passes or makes landfall,” he said. “I want all dock access points secured and monitoring increased on the construction zones. If we evacuate, we lock down completely—no unauthorized personnel on or off the island until all-clear.”
Nettie’s brows creased, concern in her voice. “What about supply deliveries?”
“Suspended during lockdown,” Zach bit out. “We stockpile in advance, or we go without.”
She frowned, oblivious to the danger in Zach’s tone. “That could leave us short of supplies for opening.”
“Won’t matter. Vendors will stop deliveries as soon as the waters roughen. Mailboat stops at tropical winds speeds, if not before.” Zach growled.
Nick nodded. “He’s right. Emma, would you coordinate with procurement? Make sure we’re not caught short on essentials a storm team would need?”
Emma pulled up the supply schedule on her tablet as she spoke. “I’ll prioritize medical supplies, non-perishables, and fuel reserves.”
Zach’s gaze flicked toward her. “Communications equipment. Backup batteries. Satellite phones in case cell towers go down.”
“Already on the list,” Emma replied.
Something almost like approval crossed his face before it reset to neutral.
David’s mouth twitched, as if fighting a smile. He glanced at Nick, brow raised. Nick’s expression didn’t change, but Emma caught the faintest change in his demeanor—like he’d heard something no one else had.
Zach’s absolute stillness drew her awareness like a moth to a flame, distracting her from the meeting. He still stood at the window, but now he was facing the group, eyes roving as Samson discussed securing half-finished structures and Keith reviewed insurance coverage and emergency funds.
Zach didn’t speak often, but when he did, people listened. Not because he was loud or forceful, but because there was a gravitational certainty about him. He assessed, calculated, and delivered conclusions with the confidence earned from years of leadership under difficult circumstances.
She caught herself leaning in when he outlined shelter-in-place protocols, noting the way his focus never wavered from the operational problem in front of him.
Dangerous. That kind of competence is dangerous.
She forced her attention back to Nick as he wrapped up the meeting with characteristic efficiency. “All right. Department leads, you know your assignments. We will reconvene tomorrow morning unless the forecast changes significantly. Preparation is cheaper than recovery.”
Chairs scraped. Papers shuffled. The room emptied in quiet, purposeful motion.
Emma gathered her notes, sliding the tablet into her folder. The room was empty of all but her and the three owners when she stood.
“Emma.”
She turned. Nick straightened from where he leaned against the end of the table, arms crossed, expression thoughtful rather than amused.
“Yes?”
“Walk with me a minute.”
They stepped into the hallway as David and Zach remained behind, heads bent over the weather display. Nick lowered his voice. “I wanted to say something before rumors start doing the job for me.”
Emma blinked. “That sounds ominous.”
“It isn’t.” His mouth tilted. “Just practical.”
She waited.
Nick glanced back into the conference room where Zach stood silhouetted against the gray light. “You and Zach seem to have strong opinions about each other.”
“If this is about the hiring dispute—”
“It isn’t.” He met her eyes, steady and calm. “The sparks between you two are obvious. I think you two suit each other.”
She stared at him for a beat, wondering if her hearing was faulty. He was joking, right? “That’s a surprising conclusion to draw from an argument.” She scrutinized his face, looking for tells. Shit. He was serious.
Nick shrugged. “I’ve known Zach a long time. He doesn’t argue with people he doesn’t respect. He gives them orders. He respects you.”
Emma absorbed that, turning it over as butterflies took flight in her stomach.
Nick’s tone softened. “He’s spent most of his life taking care of other people. Making sure they survived things they should never have had to face.” He paused, eyes on her face. “He deserves a good woman in his life.”
She shifted her weight, swallowing the lump in her throat and picking her words with care. “That’s a generous sentiment, but hypothetically speaking, workplace dynamics—”
Nick raised a hand. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.” His expression turned more sincere. “If anything develops between the two of you, your job is safe.”
Emma blinked. What he was implying was against every HR policy in existence. Against all common sense. The power dynamics…
He continued, calm and deliberate, as if he read her mind. “No repercussions. No awkward reassignment. No sudden change in responsibilities. You’re one of the best HR directors I’ve worked with, and nothing about Zach changes that.”
She studied him, searching his face for humor. She found none.
“You’re assuming quite a bit,” she said.
Nick smiled. “Not assuming.” He glanced into the room where Zach studied the radar app while David pointed to something. “Observing. And maybe hoping.”
Emma followed his gaze, her visual focus tightening on Zach. He appeared to be focused on the screen, but his body was eerily still.
He couldn’t have heard Nick, could he? She looked at David. His eyes were also directed at the screen, but his smirk didn’t match the seriousness of the approaching storm.
Nick pushed away from the wall with a quick smile. “Anyway, consider this your unofficial HR reassurance.”
She huffed a quiet laugh. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
Nick started down the hall, then paused. “Oh—and Emma?”
“Yes?”
“If you do decide to claim my head of security…” His smile grew wicked. “Please try not to break him.”
She folded her arms, an unwilling smile tugging at her lips even as heat flared in cheeks. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Nick chuckled and walked away.
She stood there a moment, Nick’s words settling like stones dropped into still water.
He deserves a good woman in his life.
She shouldn’t be thinking about it. Shouldn’t be considering the implications. Shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like to be the person who softened the edges of a man made entirely of knife-sharp angles and controlled force.
Inside the meeting room, David said something that made Zach’s jaw tighten. Even from the hall, Emma could see the point where Zach’s patience frayed; a split second later, he reached out to slap David on the back of the head.
David ducked and grinned. Zach shook his head, but a smile tugged at his lips. Who knew he could smile?
Whatever was happening between them, it had the easy rhythm of long familiarity—brothers who knew how to push each other’s buttons and did so with affection.
Emma turned to leave.
And found Zach watching her.
Not the hallway. Not her general area. Her.
Their eyes met across the distance, and something in the moment stilled—like the air before a storm breaks.
Emma didn’t look away.
She should. This was ridiculous—standing in a hallway, caught in some silent standoff over nothing more than a glance.
She held it anyway.
Zach didn’t move. Didn’t soften. His expression remained what it always was—controlled, unreadable—but there was an intensity in it now that hadn’t been there during the meeting. Something more focused. More deliberate.
Like he was assessing her.
Evaluating something.
Emma felt it in the base of her spine, awareness sharpening into something almost physical. Her pulse ticked up, steady but unmistakable.
This is a mistake. The thought came clean and immediate. She didn’t know what kind yet. Didn’t know if it was professional or personal or something else entirely. Just that it was one.
She raised a brow at Zach, letting her lips tilt up a little. She would not be cowed.
Inside, David said something too low to make out, but Emma saw the moment it landed. Zach’s jaw tightened.
His attention returned to the conversation, to the radar, to the storm building beyond the glass.
Just like that, the moment was over.
Emma pushed through the double doors and stepped onto the open walkway connecting the administrative wing to the main building. She paused at the railing, looking out toward the water.
The horizon was gone now.
Sea and sky blurred into a single slate-gray expanse, the line between them erased by haze and distance. The ocean looked heavier somehow. Slower. Like something gathering beneath the surface.
Kate’s voice echoed in her mind. The wind keeps rising…
Emma tightened her grip on the folder in her hand. It’s just weather. A typical summer squall. Seasonal patterns she’d seen a hundred times before.
And yet—
The wind shifted suddenly, sharper now, tugging at her hair.
Behind her, the ocean darkened.
The pressure dropped, slow and certain. The sense of mistake sharpened.