Page 88 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

Most of what I thought was true.

Jeff and Tammy Bale were young and in love. Came into money and, as lovers of adventure and travel, they invested in a hotel. San Diego. Then they turned it into a resort. Then another. And another. And it snowballed. They traveled the world, even when the boys were born and Bale Resorts became the most popular resorts in the world.

Until July 23rd, 2006.

Morgan walks into the kitchen to check on things, unaware that I am sitting in the corner, mouth agape as I read the next line of the article.

Private plane caught in a freak storm crashes into the Pacific Ocean, killing Jeffry and Tamera Bale on impact.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. I mean, I assumed they had passed. But I never thought to look up when or how. And now that I know, so many things make sense. So, so many things.

I set my phone down and watch Morgan as he insists that the kitchen staff eat too, even going as far as to eat with them so they will agree to take a second for themselves. And it’s in that moment that I realize two things.

I am heartbroken for him and the devastation that rocked the Bale family so many years ago.

And at the same time, I’m undoubtedly in love with him and have no idea what that means for either of us.

Chapter 32

Scarlett

After the night we just endured, when rays of sunlight come through our hotel room window and wake me, I’m a little disoriented. The clouds are gone now, and it’s blue skies and calm air outside.

The power and water have been restored, thanks to the amazing staff and first responders. I am sure the lobby is still a little chaotic; I’ve heard things are running smoothly again. Apparently, on islands like this, things like this are pretty normal. That said, I am more impressed with the Bahamas location than the others, and I make a point of stating that.

Room service delivers breakfast to us, and I sit on the balcony enjoying guava cream cheese french toast and a made to order latte while I post photos from last night.

MooreToExplore- Hello lovelies. I think it’s safe to say that the last 24 hours has been a bit wild, but I wanted to make a point of showing you that. Not all travel goes as planned. Mother Nature has a mind of her own, that’s for sure. Especially when you are on a little mound of dirt out in the open ocean! And yet, @BaleResorts is exemplary in taking care of its guests. A shout-out to the entire staff for comforting and keeping the guests calm and safe. And of course, a huge shout-out to @MorganBale for positively slaying it last night, rolling up his sleeves and seeing to it that his guests get Bale treatment no matter what the weather.

#eyeofthestorm #these-apple #mindovermatter #Baletotherescue #manofmydreams

It’s almost weird how easily I am able to write the posts, gushy hashtags included. But at the same time, it feels natural. A lot of things feel natural these days. Including waking up next to him and planting a kiss on his forehead before sneaking out of bed to come out on the balcony. It’s kind of funny. I enjoy quiet mornings alone, doing my own thing, enjoying the peace, and giving thanks for the day. I have always done that as a solo traveler with a wild heart. But now I like rolling over in the middle of the night and not being alone.

It’s a conflicting feeling in some ways and not so much in others. I could get used to this.

Except you need to be careful…

My inner voice reminds me.

It’s in that moment that I realize I am doing exactly what the mom from last night told me I was doing. I look down and see my hand is on my belly. My lower belly, right below my navel. And it’s not in the way you’d grab your midsection because of a stomachache. It’s a caressing touch. A knowingness. It’s something that now that I am doing it, I have noticed other women doing it. It’s a feeling I can’t describe, but it’s also not new. Like it’s something that has always existed in me but was only recently released. Like opening a locket that I didn’t have the key for until just now.

“Look who’s up with the sun,” Morgan’s sleepy, gritty voice cuts into my thoughts as he appears in the doorway in black shorts and an open, short sleeve button-down shirt.

“Listen, after last night, I didn’t know if we were ever going to see the sun again,” I tease, and he chuckles.

Mmm, casual looks good on him. When I first met Morgan Bale, I didn’t know he had a single easy going bone in his body. But now, it’s wild how he’s sort of fallen into this other version of himself. Maybe that’s the wrong phrasing. It’s more of a deeper layer of who he is on the inside. A layer that used to be visible but has hidden as a defense mechanism.

Morgan takes a seat on the lounger next to me. His bare feet are planted on the ground. His forearms are resting on his knees, and his attention is focused solely on me. There’s a looseness in his jaw that I’m not used to. There’s a softness in his smile. His whole face, really. Like he’s reverse-aged in the last couple of weeks despite the chaos and even the mess from last night. It’s like being here, doing this, is part of who he is. Or who he used to be. Or maybe it’s who he is becoming.

“Storms like that are always intimidating,” he tells me. “But they’re not uncommon. And even though guests have a tendency to panic, especially ones that flew in from other places and haven’t seen a tropical storm in their lives, we are pretty good at handling them. Power outages and flooding and all.” Morgan ends the statement with the same easy smile he’s had since he walked up, and I smile back.

“I saw that. And thanks to doing my job while helping with yours, the world is seeing it too,” I say, holding my phone out so he can scroll through the posts.

“Damn,” he says as he narrows his eyes at photos of the rain, the trees, the water, the EMTs, and of course him in the middle of it all.

“Too much?” I ask. “Does it look bad?”

“Not at all,” Morgan shakes his head, scrolling through them for a second time. “In fact, I think it shows just how much the guests and staff at Bale mean to us. The lengths we go to in order to ensure that their stay is a good one, even in a time of crisis. Maybe not the tropical getaway they were hoping for, though,” he chuckles.