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Lockdown?What lockdown?

I hear doors slamming throughout the inn.The kind of slamming that sounds very...permanent.

"TWENTY SECONDS TO FULL LOCKDOWN."

My phone rings, the caller ID showing Sterling Security's tech support line.

Right.Professional.

Call the team.That's what rational business owners do.

Instead, my fingers dial a different number.The private one Luke gave me "for emergencies only."

Because apparently, in moments of crisis, my instincts go straight to off-limits, overqualified men with custom tuxedo-carrying helicopters and frustratingly calm voices.

He answers on the second ring."Sage?It's nine o'clock?—"

"The inn is having a nervous breakdown!"I shout over the sirens."Your security system thinks we're under attack and it's screaming about lockdowns and the lights are doing this horror movie thing and?—"

"TEN SECONDS TO FULL LOCKDOWN."

"Was that?—"

"Your system!Yes!It's gone Skynet!"

"I'll be right there."His voice shifts from concerned to commanding."Don't touch anything else."

"But—"

"LOCKDOWN INITIATED.HAVE A SECURE EVENING."

The line goes dead.

So does every electronic lock in the building, if the symphony of clicks is any indication.

I stand in the flashing red darkness, Buttercup now tangled in several cables, and wonder if it's too late to take up that career in accounting my mother always suggested.

Forty minutes later, I'm stationed by the front door with a flashlight, having spent the time placating terrified guests through their now-sealed doors.

Mr.Henderson is convinced we're under terrorist attack.Mrs.Patterson from Room 7 thinks it's aliens.

I’m just about to explain to Reverend Hendricks that the rapture isn’t coming when a set of headlights illuminate the front porch.

Hugging my flashlight, I head to the front porch in pajama pants and a flannel, shining the light on the sleek sports car just twenty feet away.

And that’s when I see him.

The driver’s side door opens and out steps Clark Kent doppelgänger, Luke Sterling—glasses glinting, black coat flaring slightly in the wind, and jaw set into absolute stone.

I have the indecency to feel the heat working its way into my body in my spine first.Then in the clutch of my stomach.

Then lower.

And even in the haze of panic, I know this is not okay.

Or professional.Or remotely sane.

Because this man is my business partner.