Page 12 of Storm Warning
The question was why. And who was pulling Victoria’s strings.
Nick turned off the lights. Whatever came next, he knew this was only the beginning.
But at least they now knew a threat was coming. At least they had a chance to prepare.
And at least one exhausted author with observant eyes would get the peace and quiet she required to finish her book.
Small victories. The door clicked shut behind him. Sometimes you took them where you found them.
Chapter 4
Unveiling
Kate steppedout of the shower, toweling droplets from her arms as steam wafted around the sleek glass like morning mist over water. She’d never stayed anywhere like this—a place where even the bathroom mirrored a spa retreat, all pale travertine and polished fixtures that gleamed in the dawn light.
She padded toward the French doors and pushed them open, letting the sea breeze in. Salt and hibiscus perfumed the air, fresh and clean, promising new beginnings. The trill of birdsong blended with the rhythmic hush of waves lapping the shore below, a natural symphony that eased her stress. She closed her eyes for a minute, just breathing it all in, the tension in her shoulders unclenching like fingers after being fisted too long.
When she turned back to her suitcase, a flicker of determination ignited in her belly—small, but real. Today, she would find her rhythm—write something worth keeping, maybe even let herself enjoy this slice of paradise without the constant drumbeat of guilt that usually accompanied any moment of pleasure.
She flipped the lid open and froze, her hand hovering mid-reach.
Instead of the worn cotton sundresses and old shorts she’d packed in a hurried frenzy before leaving—her safe, comfortable armor—a neatly folded rainbow of fabrics greeted her. Lightweight dresses in jewel tones caught the light. Gauzy cover-ups that belonged in a resort catalog. And a tiny scrap of red bikini peeking out from under a lace sarong that probably cost more than her monthly coffee budget.
“Oh God,” she muttered, rifling through the pile with growing disbelief, her fingers catching on silk and linen that caressed her skin.Did I grab the wrong suitcase?But no—the luggage tag bore her name in her own handwriting, smudged from when she’d filled it out at the airport.
Her heart still hammered when she spotted an envelope wedged in the corner, cream-colored paper that stood out amongst the vibrant fabrics. She pulled it out with trembling fingers and unfolded the note inside, bracing herself for whatever Callie had done this time.
Kate,
You can’t go to a luxurious resort and wear your ratty old shorts and T-shirts like you do at home. I took the liberty of doing some shopping for you and repacked your suitcase with more appropriate clothing. Enjoy! (Oh, if you see someone you want to make a real impression on, try the red bikini with the white lace sarong—it will look stunning on you!)
Love you, meanit.
Callie
A laugh bubbled up, breaking free in a surprised burst that echoed in the quiet suite. Leave it to Callie to orchestrate an entire wardrobe intervention without so much as a warning text. The woman had absolutely no boundaries—and Kate loved her for it, even when she wanted to throttle her.
Kate shook her head and pressed the note to her chest for a moment, acknowledging a reluctant swell of affection stinging her eyes—and the faintest hint of dread twisting in her stomach because Callie’s instincts about ‘making an impression’ were often uncomfortably accurate. She had a sixth sense about these things, an uncanny ability to predict when Kate would need to be someone other than her constructed invisible self.
Callie was one of a kind—part assistant, part best friend, and part bossy fairy godmother who refused to let Kate remain invisible. She’d been with Kate since the early days, when Kate wrote in a tiny studio apartment and subsisted on ramen. Now, eighty-some books later, Callie knew all of Kate’s secrets, all her fears, all her flaws, and loved her anyway.
She rummaged through the case, searching for more than the colorful bikinis perched on top like tropical birds. Her fingers brushed against something soft, and she pulled out a cute, flirty skirt in coral linen and a cream cotton top with delicate eyelet detail, the fabrics gliding like silk through her hands and smelling faintly of the lavender sachets Callie tucked into her own drawers.
Excitement bubbled inside her—unexpected and effervescent, fizzing through her veins like champagne—as she dressed. The clothes fit perfectly, hugging her curves, making her feel feminine and put-together instead of frumpy and invisible. The skirt swished against her thighs when she moved, and the top skimmed her waist without clinging. She caught herreflection in the floor-length mirror and barely recognized herself—this woman appeared confident, vacation-ready, like she belonged in a place like this.
She could savor the joy of exploring the rest of her new attire later. Right now, she craved caffeine with the desperation of someone who’d slept deeply for the first time in weeks and whose body was still catching up.
In the kitchen, she crafted a cup of coffee just as she liked it—strong enough to strip paint, with a dash of cream to soften the edges—using the suite’s impressive machine, which doubtless cost more than her laptop. The steam coiled up to tease her senses, bearing a rich, dark aroma, which wrapped around her like a comforting hug, promising the day ahead would be special.
Before she started working, however, she should call Callie for an update on the tour’s completion and her looming deadline. The thought sent a brief spike of anxiety through her chest, but she pushed it aside. One thing at a time.
Grabbing her phone from the counter, she frowned at the time—middle of the night back home; the numbers glowing in the dim room. Callie would kill her if she called now! The woman guarded her sleep like a dragon hoarding gold, and Kate valued their friendship too much to risk a grumpy-Callie lecture.
Giggling, she opened her camera app. She’d record a video tour now and text it to Callie—who’d call the second she saw it! The thought made Kate smile, imagining Callie’s inevitable shriek of delight.
She hit record and spun in a slow circle, feeling ridiculous but also playful. “Callie, you won’t believe where I’m staying! This is the kitchen. It’s better than mine at home.” She roamed through the suite, recording the surrounding luxury—themarble countertops, the designer fixtures, the artwork that looked original and expensive. “And I have an office to write in! It’s perfect. If it were mine, I wouldn’t change a thing. Oh, let’s go outside! I haven’t seen the grounds in daylight yet. The bellman said I can use the pool.”
Kate drifted out onto the pergola, the fragrant air enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. Heady notes of jasmine and gardenia danced on the mild sea breeze, so thick and sweet they were almost dizzying, mingling with the salt tang that spoke of the endless ocean beyond.