Page 85 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

By the time the landing gear kicks out of the Bale private jet, I am ready to kiss the ground below us. I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t eating ashwagandha gummies like fruit snacks because, thanks to a freak storm, the flight to the Bahamas was rough. And I mean rough.

“Maybe we should have checked the weather before choosing The Sea Pearl as our next stop,” Donovan says as we exit the plane. There is an Escalade ready to go, and Seb helps us into it before hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Cheese and rice, it is really coming down out there,” I say. I’m relieved that we are finally on solid ground, but considering the Bahamas is just a pretty speck in the middle of the ocean, I’m also still a little fearful that we may wash away.

“Saw the forecast,” Morgan says, slicking back his soaked hair and pulling his tablet out of his bag. “And that’s part of the reason I didn’t reschedule. The Pearl is in rough shape.”

“I’m seeing it,” Donovan says, also on his tablet. “Rolling blackouts, issues with the waterlines. It’s looking like a real shit show.”

“Yep,” Morgan sighs as Seb begins to drive away from the tarmac. “It’s probably a full-blown shelter in place.”

“So we’re walking into the storm…” I nod, preparing myself for what that looks like.

Honestly, it’s not my first time in a scary situation like this. A couple of years ago I was in Southport, North Carolina for their famous Fourth of July festival, and it got rained out by a hurricane that swung up around the southeast. It was bad enough that it nearly wiped out the entire town, damaging several dockside businesses and restaurants and sweeping a few beach homes into the ocean too. It’s part of travel, obviously. Visiting other places, you’re going to see the good and the bad. But I always felt like it was worth the risk, terrifying as it may be.

An hour or so later, after braving the flooding roads in the dark, we pull up to the Sea Pearl Resort. I’m sure in the daytime, when the weather is calm and the sun is shining, it’s probably a pretty gorgeous place to behold. But right now, in the dark and the wind, with sheets of rain slapping against the white walls and palm trees thrashing around, it looks more like a haunted castle in a scary movie.

“Alright,” Morgan says. Seb hands each of us an umbrella. “Out of the frying pan–”

“And into the fire,” Donovan finishes the sentence. And a fire it is. As soon as we enter the lobby, it’s swarming like a beehive with guests everywhere. Most of them are on their phones, probably trying to figure out what to do, considering the power is out. Front desk clerks and managers are doing crowd control, and housekeeping is working to provide people with towels and blankets.

“Where are we at?” Morgan asks as a man who I presume is the manager falls into step with us.

“No power, obviously. Limited water. It works in half the hotel, but not the rest. Water from the storm is flooding into the kitchen, and as you can see, through the main entrances. The doors won’t seal so we are–”

“Using towels to jam the doors,” Morgan answers.

“Yeah,” the man says. Then he turns to me. “I’m Anton.”

“Nice to meet you, Anton.” I smile at him. “I’m–”

“Scarlett Moore. MooreToExplore.” He smiles back, and despite the current crisis, it’s a real smile. “Yes, I know who you are. We follow you on Instagram. My wife and I love seeing your adventures.”

“Thank you.” I smile again.

“So people are swarming the lobby because…” Morgan cuts back in.

“Elevators are down, obviously,” Anton says.

“Anyone trapped in them?” he asks.

“Not that we know so far, though there is one caught between floors eleven and twelve on the east side. We have a mechanics crew and medics on it.”

Morgan nods once as his eyes sweep the room again. He’s deep in thought, evaluating the situation as a whole. And he’s surprisingly calm as he comes up with a game plan.

“Alright. I want housekeeping to provide everyone here with more blankets. Tend to the ones with children first, and anyone who looks to be over the age of sixty. Don’t cater to diamond members. Cater to those who are in the greatest need. I want the kitchen staff working on emergency packages, anything in the fridges and pantries that can be spared that doesn’t need to be cooked. If the gas lines are safely running, cook it up. The storm is projected to sweep through and then hook back up north east but there’s no telling right now how long it will hang out, so assume the worst. Every guest needs water, and I want the on sight medics making rounds here in the lobby as well as checking rooms. People could be trapped in the dark, afraid, and so on. I am going to check on the elevator situation and talk to security. Fear equals panic. Donovan, work with the front door security on keeping people away from the exits.”

“What would you like me to do?” I ask, and for a moment, Morgan softens a little and places his hands on my arms with a squeeze. “Do what you do best. Talk to people. Keep them calm. Reassure them. The structure is sound, and it’s just a storm, not a hurricane. But people need to be calm.”

I nod, and he kisses me before walking towards the stairs.

“He’s a remarkable man when he wants to be,” Donovan says, and I nod. “Very much like his dad.”

Tears sting my eyes at that, and I’m momentarily curious about the full story. But that’s going on the back burner for now. I find a family of four, huddled in a corner. It’s a couple around my age with a little girl who looks to be about four and an infant girl as well. Both girls are fussing. The mom looks worried and tired. Very, very tired, and the dad is trying to figure out what to do.

“Hello,” I approach them with an easy smile in the hopes of calming their stress. “I’m Scarlett. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Blankets would be amazing,” the man says.