Page 49 of Not Safe for Work

Logically, I know this. There are building codes and standards that must be followed. They would have accounted for the worst case scenario. But fear isn’t logical.

With a tenderness I would never have expected, Rafe wraps an arm around my shoulders and guides me through the restaurant, uttering assurances that everything is fine.

Organized chaos unfolds before us as we migrate to the ballroom level, where they’ve requisitioned each massive room as makeshift shelters. I’m amazed at how quickly they put this all together, but I guess they’ve known the weather was off for the past few days.

Rafe is holding my hand, and he leads me into the largest of the rooms, where we find Lan and Gabrielle seated with a group of other WMC employees. I’m so freaked out that I barely have the capacity to register: Rafe is holding my hand.

He pushes me against the wall and presses gently on my shoulders. I sink to the ground while he crouches before me.

“Wait here, okay?” He looks at Gabrielle. “Watch her. She doesn’t like storms. I’ll be right back.”

“Of course,” Gabrielle says, scooting closer and linking her elbow with mine. My skin feels like ice, further exacerbated by arctic blasts of industrial-strength air-conditioning.

“What’s wrong?” she asks as she rubs my arm. Her voice is soft and soothing.

“I don’t have a pleasant history with weather like this.”

“Okay,” she says, smoothing back my hair. “I guess you’re not used to this, huh? In Florida, this is a weekly occurrence.”

“Remind me to never go to Florida.”

She laughs and squeezes my arm tighter. “Then I’ll come visit you instead.”

“The cold might kill you,” I reply, closing my eyes while a headache builds in my temples. I scramble for my purse, worried that I’ve lost it, only to find it slung across my body. I dig for my pills, shake two out, and cradle them in my hand.

Gabrielle laughs again. “That’s true. You’ll have to teach me how to dress.”

I smile at her and lean my head on her shoulder.

“I’ve been through this kind of thing a thousand times. Don’t worry—I got you.” Gabrielle then whispers in my ear, “Or maybe it’s someone else who has you.”

A shadow falls over us, and I open my eyes to find Rafe laden with blankets, a pillow, water bottles, and brown paper lunch bags. He’s the Mount Doom of hospitality. He places everything on the floor as I pop my painkillers in my mouth and swallow them down.

Rafe gets to work setting up camp, laying out the blanket and gesturing for me to get on top. He passes around water bottles and snacks to Lan, me, and Gabrielle.

“Thanks,” I say as he hands me the pillow, touched but also wildly confused by his behavior.

As more people stream into the room, WMC takes up a large quadrant of the space. The mood is boisterous and lively. To everyone else, this is a party as visitors travel between blanket islands like we’re having a giant picnic.

The WMC executives have also found their way down and have somehow secured a set of wide leather chairs they’ve arranged in a circle facing one another. They pay little attention to their surroundings as they talk and plot what I assume is world domination. Maybe I can get Diane on her own in this mess, but I’m far too jittery to move right now.

Thunder booms outside again, and I imagine the walls shaking.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks, leaning on the wall beside me, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. “You must be cold.”

Rafe pulls up the second blanket and drapes it over my lower half.

“Thanks,” I say. “You… don’t need to do all this.”

Why is he doing all this?

He shrugs and closes his eyes in what feels like a transparent attempt to appear casual.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here?” I ask to the muffled sound of thunder as I latch onto his arm with a firm grip. He covers my hand with his, and something about his warm skin settles my pulse.

He holds up his phone and shows me his screen with his other hand. “I just looked it up, and only a tiny handful of tropical storms have ever made landfall. I promise we’ll be fine. They’re just being cautious.”

I stare at the page he’s showing me and then point to a line at the bottom, reading it out loud. “Climate change has resulted in an increase of extreme weather incidents in recent years.”