“Last night’s storm has damaged your villa. Flooded it.”
I sigh.
Is that all?
I force a smile. “That’s okay,” I say. “I’m happy to stay in one of the guest villas.”
His colour drains further.
“Er, Erm,” he stutters.
“Mr Baskin, please. It’s been a long flight, I don’t have the time or the patience for a thousand questions and answers. Tell me what the problem is.”
“We’re fully booked,” he blurts out. “There are no spare villas.”
I rub my temples.
“Let me get this straight. What you’re saying is, there’s nowhere on the island formeto stay?”
He wrings his hands, and I want to scream.
I get that this is not what you want to tell the CEO of the company that just bought your hotel. But as the general manager, you need to handle a crisis without drama.
“Can you take me to the villa?”
He jumps up. “Of course.”
He grabs one of the golf carts and drives us to the villa. Pointing out the various parts of the island as we pass. Restaurants, tennis courts, staff quarters, and spa.
I half listen, the travel catching up to me. My muscles twitch and scream in protest.
He pulls up at the villa and unlocks the gate, walking us through. The outside shows remnants of the storm and seawater damage. The plunge pool is full of debris, and the furniture is filthy. But it’s on the inside, the staff are busy working. Water-damaged furniture is being carried out, while another team is replacing the smashed glass door. This is not good if a guest had been staying here.
“What happened?” I ask, adrenaline burning through my exhaustion.
Mr Baskin leads me to the beach, pointing out the barrier circling this side of the island. I look out over the now calm sea.
“It’s washed away. Part of the money we’ve requested is to rebuild the breakwaters. The previous owners let them go. With global warming, the storms are getting more frequent. They help reduce the energy of the incoming waves. We’re already being forced to rebuild the beaches in places where they’ve been washed away.”
Five PM.
I pull out my phone and dial the UK office.
“Michael,” I say.
“Ms Frazer,” the surprise in his voice is unmistakable. “Is everything okay? Have you arrived?”
“Yes. Although there’s an issue. I want you to call James Lawson. The breakwaters need to be repaired ASAP. It’s all in the report. I’ll send him an email with details as soon as I have somewhere to park myself. Until then, I want you to start the ball rolling.”
Luckily, the team are aware of my initial orders coming from Michael.
“On it,” he says.
I disconnect and turn back to Mr Baskin.
His eyes are wide as he stares at me. “Thank you,” he says.
“There’s still the issue of me needing somewhere to stay,” I say.
