“Excuse me,” she said. “Some of us are on another continent and would like our turn to emotionally harass her.”
Emme’s video window lit beside hers from Patagonia, cheeks pink from cold, a cream sweater wrapped around her shoulders. “Hi, Jules.”
Her voice was soft enough to be dangerous.
I pointed at the screen. “No one cry.”
Brynn dropped into her chair. “She means herself.”
“I mean everyone.”
Rayann narrowed her eyes. “You scared us.”
The room quieted.
My fingers tightened around the coffee cup.
“I know.”
Summer held my gaze for one beat longer, then returned to her chair and tapped the agenda. “Good. Now that we’ve established no one is dead, we have twenty-eight minutes before Rayann’s next Rome call and Emme’s vendor meeting.”
Brynn wiped under one eye with her middle finger. “Beautiful transition. Very maternal. Slightly hostile.”
“Thank you,” Summer said.
Daisy slid into the far corner with her tablet, typing quickly.
Gabriel Vaughn, our interim security director, sat near the far end of the table with Max’s old tablet and the look of a man who had been promoted into a storm and refused to complain about the weather.
The meeting began.
“Santorini overbooked the Caldera villa.”
My pen stopped above the page. “When?”
“Yesterday,” Summer said. “We moved the Hargreaves to the Imerovigli property, upgraded them to the full terrace suite, and negotiated comped helicopter transfers. The client is satisfied.”
“Vendor?”
“Apologetic. Expensive. Currently pretending this was an isolated mistake.”
“Was it?”
Summer’s mouth flattened. “That’s the part I want your read on. I recommend a ninety-day probation period and no peak-season placements until they prove their inventory controls are real.”
The report sat in front of me, clean and complete. Not a crisis. A choice.
“Do it,” I said. “And add financial penalties to the next contract renewal.”
Summer’s pen moved. “Already drafted.”
Of course it was.
Summer’s eyes flicked to mine, then back to the agenda. “Emme.”
Emme tucked a strand of hair behind one ear on the screen. “The Galápagos expedition partner accepted the emergency-transfer language and the insurance addendum. Communications standards are clean now. Evacuation obligations are clearer.”
Annie’s mouth flattened. “Cancellation windows are still garbage.”
