Private 02 - Private Paradise

pictures of the storm, moving in an ominous mass across the blue expanse of the Caribbean. Against the expanse of the storm, Holley Cay looked like a pin dot on the map.
    The storm was indeed headed right for them, and she was picking up speed.
    “ We have to evacuate, and fast,” Chris said over the speaker phone. Carla nodded absently then remembered he couldn't see her. “They think the storm is going to hit by this afternoon.”
    “ I know,” she said, the knowledge filling her with dread. Even though it was the low season, the resort only half full and a reduced staff, it meant organizing over fifty people―of whom at least thirty were the very definition of high maintenance―to evacuate the island in a safe and orderly fashion before they were overcome with what were predicted to be one hundred mile per hour winds and swells that could very well crest the breakwater and flood the villas closest to the beach on the windward side of the island. “We have the plan in place―”
    “ I have a couple of changes I'd like to suggest before we move forward.”Carla looked up to see Sam in the doorway. Unlike Carla, who had come straight to the office from the gym, Sam had taken a quick shower and changed. His hair was still damp, curling a little at the ends, and he was dressed in a clean white polo with the resort logo and a pair of khaki's.
    The smell of soap and clean male skin flooded her nostrils, making her acutely aware of her own disheveled state, her ponytail a rats nest of curls, the salt of dried sweat coating her skin and making her itch. God only knew what she smelled like.
    She shook her head snapped herself back to attention. What the hell was wrong with her, worrying about what Sam might think about what she looked or smelled like when they were about to have a head on collision with the worst storm to hit Holley Cay in the resort's history? “Sam, we have this covered. We really don't have the time to discuss this, so if you could just leave and wait for instructions―”
    “ If I'm not mistaken emergency planning is a significant part of my job here. I had extensive experience in the military planning for and dealing with natural disasters. I know you'd like for me to keep my distance but I think in this case you need to put whatever personal issues you have aside and let me contribute.”
    Carla felt her face flame red. How dare he accuse her of being unprofessional? So what if she was still reeling from what had happened in the gym? She'd never let that get in the way of doing what was best for the guests and the resort. And Sam was right. Emergency and evacuation planning fell under his umbrella and he no doubt had more hands-on experience than Carla by far. Still, it almost choked her to admit, “You're right. Tell us your suggestions.”
    In a sick way, Carla was almost grateful for the storm barreling their way, as it provided a much-needed distraction as she and Sam worked side by side to get the resort buttoned up and the guests and staff down to the dock to be taken to St. Thomas by ferry.
    It saved her from having to summon up every last shred of control to pretend she was indifferent to him, that she didn't obsess over Sam's very revealing apology every waking hour of her day. With the clock ticking and only a few hours to get everyone off Holley Cay before the storm hit, for the first time in a week she didn't have time to argue with herself about whether or not she should put any stock in what Sam had said.
    About how sorry he was, how much he'd cared about her. How he hadn't meant what he'd said, that he'd only lashed out in a fit of insecurity.
    Under the best of circumstances, she didn't have time wrestle with herself, trying to convince the stupid, naïve girl inside of her, the one who still had a soft spot for her first love, that nothing he said mattered. She'd spent all week repeating to herself that it was all over and done and he could be as sorry as he wanted but it didn't mean she'd be dumb enough to open herself up to Sam, or any other man for that matter.
    Now, she barely had time to think as they put the evacuation plan into action. Carla took a few minutes to shower and change. Forgoing her usual wardrobe for obvious reasons, she pulled on a pair of Bermuda shorts with her Holley Cay polo shirt and slipped on a pair of running shoes that would protect her feet if any debris started flying.
    She met Sam in the lobby, where he was doing an admirable job of