Chapter 16
Sarah
“Status?” Sarah looked at Carlos once the storm had knocked out the lights, four hours after their arrival. The guests were still upstairs, sleeping, but the kitchen staff had been in the middle of making breakfast.
“Generator’s good to go. We should try to preserve fuel though.”
“Food?”
The head caterer, a woman named Maria, consulted her phone. “We managed to bring everything from the beach into the house, but some snacks might be good.”
“We’ve got emergency supplies in the shed out back,” Sarah said. “Candy, peanut butter, whatever they want.”
“Good think you planned ahead.” Carlos patted her arm. “This is why you’re GM and Derek will never be.”
“From your lips…” Maria said and headed back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on breakfast.
The house groaned. Everyone went quiet. The storm was getting worse.
Sarah pulled up the weather app on her phone for the hundredth time. The tropical system sat right on top of them, a swirling mass of green and yellow on the radar.
She’d called the harbor master an hour ago. The ferries were grounded until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Maybe longer if the wind didn’t die down.
She already knew that Peter, Derek and several board members would try to blame this on her.
Even though she had been the one advocating for a postponement or even cancellation of the event.
She’d argued they could have it elsewhere.
But no. They’d been sure it would be fine.
They’d told her they were locals, born and bred in Key West and knew more than she.
Someone who’d been there but a few years and from a totally different climate.
She might have spent much of her adult life first in San Francisco and then in Aspen, but she knew the Florida weather by now.
“Sarah?” Lizzie was watching her.
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just thinking.” Sarah straightened. When had Lizzie arrived? She hadn’t even seen her come into the kitchen. “We have everything we need for now. We’ll be ok.”
“For how long though?” Rita looked worried. “These kids are going to get restless. Scared. We need to keep them occupied.”
“Occupied how?” Carlos asked.
Lizzie cleared her throat. “People have doomsday parties.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” Sarah asked.
“Doomsday parties. Like when there’s a blizzard or a blackout. You make it fun instead of scary.” Lizzie pulled out her phone. “We’ve got the food. We could set up the spa room downstairs. Rita, you brought your supplies, right?”
The woman nodded. “Most of them, anyway. We couldn’t carry everything. I brought my manicure kit. It’s my livelihood. I wasn’t going to leave it in the tent.”
“Good, so we can still have people do their nails. And your colleague does massages, right?”
Rita nodded. “So we have nail service and massages. And there’s music,” Lizzie continued.
“Can’t blast music nonstop, kiddo. We need to preserve the fuel,” Carlos said.
“I saw some spring breakers bring guitars. We could do a sing-along. Keep people engaged. And the DJ could do something on the hour,” Lizzie suggested.
“Like a two-song dance party. Get everyone moving, burn off energy, then back to quieter activities. We can keep the generator at low power most of the time and crank it for the music.”
Carlos grinned. “Not how a generator works, but I got you. A storm rave. I like it.”
Sarah considered it. It was better than letting them panic in the dark.
“There are board games too,” Carlos said. “Part of the backup entertainment. They’re in the supply shed.”
“Perfect. We set up a game room.” Lizzie was getting animated now. “Giant Jenga if we have it. Cards Against Humanity. Beer pong. Whatever else is there.”
Sarah looked around the kitchen. Everyone was nodding, getting into it. The panic from earlier was fading. They had a plan.
Sarah pulled up the floor plan on her phone.
Billy had sent it to her years ago when he was planning renovations that never happened.
“The dining room is biggest. We set up games there. The living room for the spa. The den has those built-in shelves so we can use it for music. Kitchen stays kitchen.”
They stood there for a moment, the plan settling in.
“Alright.” Sarah clapped her hands. “Let’s do it. Carlos, you and your guys move furniture. Lizzie, you’re with me. We’re going to the shed for supplies.”
“In this weather?” Lizzie looked at the boarded windows.
“It’s fifty feet. We’ll be fine.”
***
They weren’t fine.
The moment Sarah opened the back door, wind nearly ripped it off its hinges. Rain came sideways, so hard it felt like needles against her skin. She grabbed Lizzie’s hand without thinking and they ran.
The shed door was unlocked. They tumbled inside and Sarah slammed it shut behind them.
“Jesus.” Lizzie was soaked again, hair plastered to her face. “That’s insane out there.”
Sarah was dripping onto the concrete floor. The shed was dark except for the flashlight on her phone. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with supplies.
“Grab the games,” Sarah said. “I’ll get some of the towels, flashlights and lanterns. The food is upstairs in one of the storage rooms.”
“Good thing, I wouldn’t want to run out here time and again in this weather.”
They worked in silence. Sarah loaded cans into a plastic crate while Lizzie piled board games into her arms. The wind howled outside. The shed walls shook.
“This was smart,” Lizzie said. “Having all this ready.”
“I was worried about the storm when they first talked about it. Some of this stuff was already here form last year, but I decided to add more over the last week. Every ferry that went out with supplies had extra just in case things.”
Sarah looked up. Lizzie was watching her with an expression Sarah couldn’t quite read.
“We should get back,” Sarah said.
The run to the house was worse than before. The wind had picked up. Sarah’s crate was heavy and awkward. Halfway there she stumbled. Lizzie grabbed her arm, steadying her, and they made it to the door together.
Inside, activity had replaced chaos. Carlos and his crew were moving furniture in the dining room.
Maria had breakfast spread across the kitchen counter, ready for the spring breakers to come down.
Judging by the noise from upstairs, that would be any moment now.
The DJ was setting up in the den, running extension cords to the generator.
Sarah and Lizzie set down their supplies. Other staff members swarmed immediately, grabbing what they needed, shouting questions over the noise of the storm.
Sarah moved from room to more, making decisions, solving issues, coming up with a game plan.
Lizzie was right beside her, anticipating what Sarah needed before she had to ask.
When Sarah couldn’t find the extension cord, Lizzie had already grabbed it.
When Carlos needed help moving the heavy table, Lizzie was there.
The awkwardness from the past few days was gone. They were too busy for it. Too focused on making this work.
They fell into a rhythm. Sarah would point, Lizzie would execute. Lizzie would suggest, Sarah would approve or adjust. They moved around each other like dancers who’d been practicing together for years instead of days.
Carlos noticed. He gave Sarah a knowing look over the table he was moving. She ignored him.
An hour later, the house was unrecognizable. The dining room was game central. The living room had become a spa with towels arranged on chairs, nail polish lined up, face masks in bowls. The den was music headquarters.
Sarah stood in the entryway surveying it all.
Spring breakers were trickling downstairs, curious, some of them smiling.
The panic had faded. This looked like fun.
All the windows were boarded up now, shutting out the scary sight of the storm.
All that was left was the noise from the wind and the crack of thunder and lightning.
“Not bad,” Carlos said, appearing beside her.
“It’ll do.”
He leaned in. “You two make a good team.”
Sarah shot him a warning look. “Don’t.”
“Just saying. You work well together.”
“We work well with everyone.”
“Sure.” He grinned and walked away.
Lizzie came over, her hair still damp from the rain, wearing a borrowed sweatshirt that was too big. “I think we’re ready. Should we announce it?”
“You announce it. This was your idea. I’m serious. You did good work here.” Sarah met her eyes. “I’m proud of you.”
Lizzie’s face flushed. She opened her mouth, closed it, then smiled. “Thanks.”
For a moment they just stood there. Around them the house buzzed with activity. Outside the storm raged. But between them, something had shifted. The distance Sarah had maintained was crumbling.
And for the first time in days, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop it.