Page 38 of Hate To Be Mine

He’d stuck up for me. He actually used his authority to protect me instead of weaponizing it against me. I hadn’t thought he was capable of it.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

He shrugged. “Can’t have my insurance rep dying of dehydration. That would definitely void the policy, right?”

I almost smiled. “Actually, no.”

“That’s cold blooded,” he said, then gestured toward the lagoon. “Tell me about this death trap I’ve found. Ruin the magic for me.”

I shot him a sour look, but there was no real anger in it. I walked to the edge of the water and started my assessment. The lagoon was breathtaking. It looked like something from a fantasy.

But I could also see the potential hazards. Did I dare point them out or just hope everyone could practice basic common sense?

I had a job to do. I couldn’t worry about making friends. If they hated me, they hated me. Nothing I could do about it.

I pointed out a few things, but instead of Sebastian being a jerk about it, he actually seemed to be listening. We weren’t suddenly best friends. But the dynamic between us had changed. We weren’t enemies anymore.

Maybe the next two weeks wouldn’t be total hell after all.

Maybe I could actually find some joy paradise.

15

SEBASTIAN

Iwoke up to my phone buzzing like an angry hornet.

Between my phone and the thunder and the rain that had started at some point in the middle of the night, I was beyond pissy. I had gotten very little sleep.

I sighed with relief when the buzzing stopped, only to have it start right back up again. I flopped my hand around the nightstand, slapping the phone and finally finding the button to quiet the damn thing.

And then a series of texts came through so fast my phone sounded like a machine gun.

I grabbed it and squinted at the screen. “Sonofabitch!”

I sat up and scowled. There were at least fifteen texts from the camera crew. All of them wanted to know what they were supposed to do.

I threw off the sheet and walked to the window. I pulled back the heavy blind to see what they were in a tizzy about.

“Shit.”

Water was still coming down in sheets. The ground was soaked with puddles everywhere. As if to drive home the point, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. The palm trees outside my bungalow were bent nearly sideways from the wind.

“Come on,” I groaned.

The overnight rain was supposed to have cleared up by this morning. I knew changing conditions could keep the storm system over Miratoa, but dammit, I really hoped the weather would cooperate.

I called the head photographer, a man known for throwing some serious tantrums when shit didn’t go his way. He was good at his job, but his ego was a lot to handle.

“We shooting in this?” he asked without preamble.

“No. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll call a meeting.”

“Copy that.”

He hung up, and immediately someone else called. It was nonstop. The wardrobe department. The lighting crew. Two different models. Everyone asking the same question: what now?

I stumbled into the shower and let the lukewarm water wake me up, trying to think. This was the test, wasn’t it? It was easy to be in charge when everything went according to plan. When the sun was shining and the models looked good and the shots were coming together. But when the unexpected happened? That was when leadership actually mattered. When things went sideways and everyone looked to you for guidance.