Page 105 of Ungodly Rich

“I’m afraid there will be no guests arriving today. We are in an extreme weather situation, as you may have noticed, and will be following emergency protocol,” Nicole said apologetically.

Julia let out a strangled noise. “Emergency protocol?”

Both women looked over as if they’d forgotten she was there. Tara’s eyes traveled over Julia’s sweatshirt, and her eyes flashed with thinly veiled disdain.

Nicole turned to Julia, her eyes bright with sympathy. “I’m sorry, but no one will be traveling in these conditions. The private airport is already closed, as is the ferry. I need to focus on the safety of our guests right now, which means that our staff will spend today securing windows, distributing survival packs, and conserving our resources. Wemay be sheltering in place for some time. Though if we receive an evacuation order, we will of course follow the coast guard’s guidance…”

Julia stopped listening. How had everything changed so rapidly? Just last night she’d been sitting outside, laughing with Harry and Abby, watching a few stray raindrops plop onto the flagstones of the courtyard.

Her aunt and uncle were making the four-hour drive from Atlanta today. She could picture them in their old Dodge Caravan, loading it with stuff they didn’t need to bring—fuzzy slippers, or a folding beach chair, or perhaps a case of wine, as if the Ellenes wouldn’t be providing enough booze at this lavish event. They would turn onto I-75, only to face a mass of storm clouds ahead.

She pulled out her phone to text them a warning, only to seeNO SERVICEat the top of her screen. Even the Wi-Fi was down.

Hopefully Jess and Daniel were monitoring the weather.

“Why don’t you both join me downstairs in the dining room?” Nicole asked, politely but firmly.

Julia shook her head. “I need to see Harry.” Suddenly all she wanted was his arms around her, for him to tell her that everything was okay.

“I’m sure Harry will find us,” Tara said tersely. “Come on, Julia, let’s go discuss our options.”

Julia sighed but fell into step alongside them, past the steel doors of the elevators, which gleamed in the swinging light of Nicole’s lantern. “Please watch your step,” Nicole said as she pushed open the door to the staircase. “I know walking down three floors in the dark is far from ideal.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tara insisted.

They emerged onto the first floor. Their footsteps echoed through the vast lobby, with its freestanding stone fireplace and antique furniture upholstered in soft reds and golds. A massive ironwork chandelier hung overhead, its swirling curlicues disappearing in the darkness above.

“We’ve put out a breakfast selection for your guests,” Nicole explained as they walked into the hotel’s dining room. Candles in glasshurricanes had been arranged along a buffet table, illuminating chafing dishes of scrambled eggs, towers of croissants and muffins, small glass pots of yogurt drizzled with honey. “Lunch will be at noon. Unfortunately, we will need to serve this evening’s dinner at five p.m., to make use of the natural light,” she added apologetically.

Julia couldn’t help noticing that the tables were laid with scalloped tablecloths, small floral arrangements placed lovingly at the center. She saw hydrangeas, blush-colored roses, sprigs of greenery…. “Are these my wedding flowers?”

“Forgive me for taking the liberty,” Nicole murmured. “I assumed you would want the flowers to go to use.”

Clearly, Nicole didn’t expect there to be a wedding this weekend.

Tara was taking angry sips of her latte, glaring at Nicole over the top of the cup. “I know that all our resorts have a backup generator. Why isn’t this one on?”

Nicole quavered a little beneath Tara’s fury. “Our generator was damaged last night in the storm. The winds reached such a high velocity that they broke a tree branch, which fell onto the generator and damaged it beyond repair.”

“The generator should never have been installed withtreesaround it,” Tara said testily.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said again, wringing her hands. “I started working here after construction was complete. That sort of decision would have been made by your landscape architects?”

Julia left the two women to their useless debate and wandered numbly toward the windows. The sky was the mottled purple of a bruise. Rain lashed against the glass in heavy sheets, making her feel as if she were underwater.

“I’m so sorry,” singsonged a voice from behind her.

Julia turned to see Valentine, leaning one hip against a nearby dining chair. She was dressed as casually as Julia had ever seen her, in one of those matched yoga sets, the top cropped enough to reveal a narrow strip of tanned, toned stomach. A poncho in the same shade of lavender was tossed over the back of her chair.

I’m so sorry,Valentine had said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s a freak storm,” Julia said tersely. “Who knows, maybe it will pass through as quickly as it arrived.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Not this time of year, in the South.” Valentine’s voice was syrupy with regret.

Julia pressed her head against the glass of the window, staring out at the shadowed blur beyond. There was nothing to see.

“I guess you and Harry will have to call off the wedding?” Valentine pressed.