Stacey felt frantic, like she’d had five minutes to do a job that should’ve taken five hours. She stared into her overnight bag, wondering what she was forgetting. “It probably doesn’t even matter,” she muttered. Whatever she needed, Sweet Breeze would have, even in a tropical storm.
Thankfully, her staff had agreed to the accommodations. Most of them would simply stay home with their families, hunker down, and ride out the wind and surf. Stacey, Tayla, and Marge were going to Fisher’s hotel to make sure their guests were taken care of. She’d insisted that they share a room on a high floor, but knowing Fisher even the little that she did, she knew she wouldn’t be above the fifth floor. She’d probably have her own suite too.
She zipped the bag closed and shouldered it, nothing left to do
