to oversee the updates you described?”
“Oh!” She sank onto the chair, mostly from surprise. “Steffi and I don’t really have the workforce to take on a multistate project.”
“Couldn’t my hotel GMs outsource the local painters and plumbers and such? I’m just talking about having you coordinate the design scheme, the colors, pick the bedding, all that stuff. You’d only have to go see each location at the beginning, and maybe once or twice more to make sure it was all coming together.”
“Well . . .” She paused, thinking about the retail space she desperately wanted and about her vow to create a life of her own choosing, not one hampered by her fear or pushed on her by a man. “Send me the floor plans and images from each hotel and let me talk to Steffi. If we think we can manage it, I’ll work up an estimate.”
“Fine. But don’t delay. I do need to start moving on this. The closing is scheduled in six weeks. It’d be great if we could go in quickly with updates and reopen with the new name and look before the summer season gets underway in mid-June.”
“When we get to Lesbos, I want to meet with Dr. Passodelis first.” Karina folded another pair of shorts and set them next to all the other stuff she’d collected on her dining table, apparently to test what she could cram into her lightweight carry-on. A far cry from the sturdy, sizable equipment cases Logan would be lugging around to keep his camera equipment and editing gear safe.
Logan chugged his IPA, swinging the leg he’d thrown over the arm of her living room chair. They’d finalized last-minute details earlier, but he was lingering at her place to avoid his apartment and Steffi, who was there prepping its walls.
“Who’s he?” He didn’t recall that name in their research notes.
“That psychologist I mentioned when you showed up—the one who’s working with the refugees through Doctors Without Borders. He’s helping them unpack all the trauma they’ve endured—rape, torture, war, and more.” Karina then set a bunch of SIM cards, an extra battery charger, and several charging cables on the table.
He finished his third beer, but the buzz he’d been hoping would kill his restlessness hadn’t taken hold yet.
“How much torture is happening in the camps?” Unlike Karina, who seemed eager to delve into that pain, he didn’t relish the idea of taking close-ups of strangers who’d been raped and tortured. Mining for anguish walked a delicate and uncomfortable line, taking a toll on his soul. He’d prefer to seek out an uplifting, hopeful subject for their story.
“Some, but the more common pattern is torture and war PTSD from the refugees’ homeland, then something traumatic happens on the journey to Greece, like an assault or a boat that sinks or something, then they get to camp and the camp guards use tear gas and clubs to beat rioters into submission. The compounding effect of multiple traumas becomes another tragedy refugees must overcome. It’s horrible. There has to be a better way to give these unfortunate people a chance at a good life.”
Logan stared out the window in Karina’s apartment, thinking about trauma. He’d never suffered any, except for an early burst of panic when he’d first learned of Peyton’s diagnosis. Deep down, though, he’d always believed she’d beat it. His sister was and remained somewhat invincible so far, thank God.
But Claire knew firsthand about how unexpected trauma could forever change the trajectory of a life.
He’d gone so many years without realizing that in her fervor to heal physically, she’d neglected her psychological and emotional recovery. She’d hidden those wounds like a champ, but year after year, fear had become her closest companion, shutting her off from many facets of life. Now it was one of several things keeping them apart. That and his own reticence about commitment.
“Hello!” Karina snapped her fingers. “Are you paying attention?”
“Sorry.” He shook his head to clear away the doldrums. “This is going to be our most grueling investigation. At least after the hurricanes, most people were working with each other. Lesbos sounds like a total shit-show.”
“We’ll stay until we find an angle the other news networks have overlooked.”
He’d be looking for that one extraordinary family or person who put an unforgettable face on the problems. Of course, every reporter and photographer who visited would be looking for the same thing. His father’s words about the slim chances of ever being that person who rises above the others