Page 84 of Through the Storms

“Um, no.” Lana chuckled. “I was kinda busy.”

“Seriously? Did you watch the news this morning?”

“Still busy.”

Carol groaned, and Lana stifled a giggle. It was usually Carol who annoyed Lana with her sexual exploits. “Have you turned on the radio in the car?”

“You know I prefer listening to music when I drive.” Lana sobered. Maybe something terrible had happened. “What did I miss?”

“About thirty minutes ago, the Storm Prediction Center issued a…shit, where did I put that piece of paper? Apparently someone, I think his name was Frank, sent you an email last night to give you a heads up. Crap, I can’t find it, but your team said it was like the highest level.”

“A five. Magenta?”

“Yes. That’s it. Seems like too pretty of a color for ugly storms.”

Lana’s heart raced. “Holy shit. When I last talked to Frank, it sounded like they were wavering between issuing a two or a three. What changed?”

“Hell if I know, I’m not a goddamned meteorologist. I heard one of your team muttering in the hallway, something about 2012 or maybe it was 2011. I don’t know.”

“April 2011?”

“That might be it.”

“Jesus.” Lana pushed down on the accelerator. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“They did. About a million times.”

“Shit. I put my phone on do not disturb, but I thought the messages would still show up.”

Carol snorted. “You never have learned how to use your new phone.”

Lana’s mind raced. “Do you understand how big this is?”

Oakley had crawled out of bed at eight thirty, which didn’t give her much time since they were slated to leave by nine. Once Lana had left, she’d fallen back to sleep in orgasmic bliss. Now she sauntered into the coffee shop, looking for a little sugar and caffeine to get her moving.

Britt stood near the counter. She smirked when Oakley approached. “About time you rolled out of bed.” She shook Oakley’s arm. “You’re like a rag doll. Those muscles are so loose.”

Oakley pulled her arm from Britt’s grasp. “Shut up.”

“Did you even take a shower?”

“I washed up.” Oakley glared and pulled out a wad of bills.

“Ew. I don’t want you riding shotgun, smelling all sexed up.”

“Don’t worry,wehad a shower last night.” Oakley was sure to put an emphasis onwe.

“Stop.” Britt turned up her nose. “I don’t want to know where you had sex.”

“I guess you don’t want to hear about the balcony then.”

Britt put her hands over her ears. “La, la. I’m not listening.”

“Good. I was hoping we could change the subject.” Oakley glanced around the coffee shop, and her gaze landed on Peggy and Sandy, who waved exuberantly. Oakley smiled and waved. “Where’s everyone else?”

Britt shrugged. “It’s been a weird morning. When I came down, Lana and Chloe were sitting over there,” Britt pointed toward a corner table, “having a cup of coffee.”

“Lana and Chloe?”