Page 103 of Hate To Be Mine

We all looked at Bernadette. She’d become, without anyone formally deciding it, the authority in the room.

“Delay until we know more,” she said. “No point in setting up just to have to tear it down again.”

She pulled up a list on her tablet and rattled off what sounded like an emergency kit. “We should put together care packages for the crew. Make sure everyone is prepared.”

“I’ll source the supplies,” I said. “The resort has to have emergency stock.”

“You do that,” Bernadette said. “Bring everything back here. Then set up an assembly line. Briggs, will you please make sure you get back to me with a recap of what the resort management says?”

I almost gasped. She was bossing Briggs around? We all looked at him to see what his reaction would be.

“I’ll be back in thirty,” Briggs said without hesitation.

“I’ll go talk to Cookie,” Elizabeth said. “She’ll have all the snacks. I’ll find out if she needs to move stuff into the resort refrigerators.”

No one was surprised Elizabeth was very concerned about the food supply.

“I’ll go with you,” Mom offered. She’d been hovering over Elizabeth a lot since she’d found out she was going to be a grandmother.

Twenty minutes later, I pushed a cart full of supplies into the dining room. Bernadette was on her phone, pacing back and forth in the corner.

Briggs and Adrian returned a few minutes later with Elizabeth and Mom following them with another cart piled with various snacks.

For the next two hours, we worked. By early afternoon, we had care packages ready—each one containing water, protein bars, a flashlight, batteries, and a handwritten note from Elizabeth thanking the crew for their hard work.

“We should split up to distribute these,” Bernadette said. “Cover more ground, have face-to-face conversations. People are scared. They need reassurance.”

We divided the crew list. Somehow—whether by design or accident—Bernadette and I ended up as a team.

Okay, maybe it was a little by design.

36

BERNADETTE

Iwasn’t an idiot. I knew the brothers had put me with Sebastian. They weren’t subtle.

I didn’t argue. There was no time for that, and the truth was, I kind of liked having him with me. He gave me strength in a way I hadn’t expected. His presence grounded me. And technically he’d thrown a punch for me. Which wasn’t exactly a quality I’d been looking for in a partner, but it meant something, nonetheless. Not many people in my life would do that. Would risk anything for me.

My father certainly wouldn’t.

Really, there was no one. No one was going to lift a finger to protect me. Except Sebastian.

And that was a shocker. He didn’t even know me. Not really. But what he did know he seemed to like. He sacrificed his hand and put his whole project at risk just to defend me. That was the kind of thing women craved. I had it and I got mad at him for it. Maybe that wasn’t cool. Maybe I should just appreciate what he did and accept it as an act of kindness.

“You think it’ll hit us?” Sebastian asked.

“I don’t know. I hope not but I’m like a dark cloud. A living, breathing dark cloud.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“If something is going to happen, it’ll happen to me. Spilled hot coffee on a white outfit—me. Fall down the steps—me. Up the stairs—me. I think I must have bad juju and now I’ve brought my juju to a tropical island in storm season. Sorry about that.”

He laughed. “Everyone trips and spills shit. I don’t think that’s a you thing.”

“Feels like it,” I muttered.

We went from bungalow to bungalow, knocking on doors, handing out care packages, and explaining the situation. I did most of the talking, keeping my tone calm. I made sure everyone understood the safety protocols and emergency procedures in case the storm did hit. Sebastian added reassurance and used that innate charm that made people feel seen and cared for.