Sadie pressed her forehead against the small oval window and watched the water dissolve into sand and rough grass beneath her. The dusty brown and gold blurred together before coming to an abrupt stop against the asphalt of the runway. Without lifting her head, Sadie closed her eyes and let the sun warm her through the Plexiglas. Between the somnolent hum of the engines and the heat from outside, she should have felt relaxed. Calm. As she typically did when arriving at one of her events. Even with her mental list of tasks running on repeat she should’ve been composed, her head clear, her nerves at ease. But she wasn’t. Not even close.

Breathe, Sadie. Breathe.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the crackle of the intercom broke through her meditative chant. “On behalf of the pilot and the crew, I’d like to welcome you to Nevis. It is a beautiful day here in the West Indies, a very pleasant eighty degrees. A welcome change for all of you escaping the cold winter weather!”

The flight attendant’s voice had a cheerful lilt to it, friendly, warm, everything that Sadie had come to appreciate about the little island they’d just landed on. But as the plane came to a stop in front of the small airport, Sadie tuned out the woman’s instructions about customs and immigration and began collecting her things. Passport and phone in the outside pocket of her purse. Sweater folded carefully inside. Purse already slung over her shoulder, Sadie had her seatbelt unbuckled and was ready to stand the second the notification bell dinged in the tiny cabin. Despite waiting on the tarmac while the luggage handlers hauled out the gate-checked suitcases, Sadie was through the airport and out into the arrivals area in no time.

“Ms. Carter, welcome back!” It took Sadie only a few seconds to locate the source of the welcome.

“Peter! So nice to see you again.” Sadie embraced the older man who broke through the crowd of taxi drivers. Peter’s mouth cracked into a wide grin, his teeth a bright white against the smooth tan of his skin. Sadie grinned back. He reached for her suitcase but Sadie batted his hand away. “Don’t you dare. You know I am perfectly capable of doing this myself.”

“Yes, Ms. Carter. I do know. Just like you know how Mr. Baker feels about guests handling luggage.”

“Well, I won’t tell Mr. Baker, if you won’t.” Peter lifted one polo-clad shoulder in a shrug, but his smile didn’t dim. “Besides, I’m hardly a guest. Which means you should be calling me Sadie. None of this Ms. Carter business.”

At that Peter released a shout of laughter. “Whatever you say, Ms. Carter.” They made their way across the airport’s small parking lot and Peter opened the rear door of a sleek black sedan.

“Peter,” Sadie lowered her eyes in a teasing glare. “The back, really?”

“Absolutely, Ms. Carter. Mr. Baker might not be here to see you with your luggage, but he will certainly be in the front drive to see you get out of the car. Back seat for you. No arguing.”

“Yes, sir.” Sadie gave him one of her largest smiles and threw her suitcase in the trunk before he could protest. Without another word she slid into the cool darkness, listening to Peter mutter under his breath as he took the driver’s seat. As Peter eased them out of the parking lot, Sadie opened the window and let the tropical breeze tangle her hair. The fragrant warmth and salty air should have relaxed her. It’s why people came to places like this. An oasis in the middle of the wide blue ocean. She wasn’t on vacation. Nothing like it; but Sadie desperately hoped that the sun would bake away some of the tension that had coalesced over recent months.

“Are you ready for this week, Ms. Carter?”

Sadie released a small sigh before turning her attention back to Peter. “For the most part, yes. The team has been fantastic. There are still a few details to iron out. There always are. But I have no doubt the client will be thrilled.” Glancing at the turquoise waves breaking against the beach just feet from the road, Sadie wondered, with a view like this, how could they not be?

“Mr. Donovan, he’s your VIP, yes? His name and head shot are all over the program notes that went through the departments last week.”

“Yes, he’s one of them. Mark Donovan. Co-founder and CEO of D&A International.” Sadie pushed her finger into a crease that had formed in the dark leather seat. “But, really, everyone in the group qualifies as a VIP. It’s an executive retreat. Twenty members of D&A International’s leadership team. Here for a week of regrouping and relaxation. A warm weather escape to reward themselves for a year well done and energize them for the one to come.”

D&A International, a software company that focused on enhancing corporations’ performance, was one of Sadie’s longest standing clients. She’d been running their events for years. Product launches at their corporate headquarters. Sales conferences for hundreds of their field employees. Awards ceremonies for their top performers. Retreats to high-end spa hotels for employees who exceeded annual sales goals. Events that required months of intricate planning, constant negotiations between client and venue, and a full-time staff to develop and execute day after day of highly-choreographed experiences for the lucky employees invited to participate.

But this week, this event was a first for Sadie. This time she was on her own. A team of one.

The planning had been no less grueling, no less precise. But given the small number of guests collecting at the hotel it didn’t make sense to have a full team in place. No, they just needed one: Her.

She was the head of the department, after all. She’d been in the position for years and had run the gamut of every unlikely scenario and unreasonable request that the pickiest client could throw at her. And she’d risen to department head through years of hard work. Hotel reservation lists, she’d done it. Explaining to drivers how to find her clients’ private planes by their tail numbers, she had it covered. Tracking lost luggage in almost-abandoned airports at midnight, it wasn’t one of her favorite things, but she’d do it. Because it was her job. Just like this was. And she was perfectly qualified for it. One week on a Caribbean island. With Mark Donovan and his band of executive buddies. With….

“And Mr. Avery?” Peter’s voice cut through Sadie’s thoughts.

“Hmmm, sorry?” That name. His name. It fell into the silence between them. “What was that, Peter?”

“Mr. Avery. He will be in the Sunset Villa?”

“Yes.” Sadie looked down at her hand, wrapped around the leather of her seat, knuckles white against the darkness. “Yes, he will.”