I love that I've gotten so many favorites and followers over the last few days, but nothing encourages an author more than reviews. I know it takes some effort, but please...do it!

Four weeks later

7 hours into her official move from Los Angeles, California to Isla Nublar, Costa Rica, Claire discovered another feeling she hated almost as much as being surprised - seasickness.

"Shit," Claire murmured, closing her eyes as the large boat rolled beneath her once again, and she clutched the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Jurassic World employed a ferry system to transport guests from the mainland of Costa Rica to Isla Nublar, which was 120 miles off the coast. After six hours on a plane, 45 minutes in a crowded bus to the ferry landing, and now only a third of the way in to the 90-minute boat ride, Claire was ready to die. All she wanted to do was take a shower and fall into bed, but first she had to convince her stomach to stop doing flips-flops and make it through this without emptying all of its contents into the deep blue seawater below.

Claire struggled to stand up straight and take deep breaths through her nose. The boat was semi-crowded with guests attending the park - Masrani had informed her that it was the height of Jurassic World's off-season in mid-May, and Claire now understood why. The heat was oppressive with humidity, though the actual temperature was probably only around 90 degrees. Every inch of Claire's lavender silk blouse stuck to her, and she could feel the sweat beading uncontrollably all over every inch of her skin - the backs of her knees, the top of her head, the small of her back. Overhead, dark storm clouds threatened - though they were closer to the mainland than the direction the ferry was heading.

Either way, Claire had never been more uncomfortable in her life. For a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had made a dire mistake. She could be back in LA right now, in her air-conditioned office, continuing her predictable yet perfectly serviceable existence. Instead, she was covered in sweat on a boat filled with tourists, floating towards an unseen destination where she would live and work, and potentially hate every minute of it.

"Keep your eyes on the horizon."

The commanding voice came from behind her somewhere, and Claire was unsure at first whether or not it was directed at her. Cautiously, and keeping her firm hold on the railing, she turned to glance behind her. Most all of the boat's passengers were congregated in the indoor passenger area, or on the decks near the ship's bow. The stern's deck was nearly deserted, except for Claire, and apparently a man sitting on a bench that she hadn't noticed until now. She had been standing out there since ten minutes after the ferry had taken off from the mainland, after her stomach had started its initial revolt.

"What?" she asked dumbly. The man lifted his gaze momentarily from the book in his lap (how could he read at a time like this? Claire wondered enviously) to look up at her.

"Watch the horizon. Helps with the seasickness." He looked back down to his book without a second glance at her.

"Um. Thanks." Claire didn't linger on the man and instead followed his instruction, turning her gaze out towards the steady line of the horizon. Nothing happened at first, but after a few minutes of keeping her gaze where the sea met the sky, her stomach startled to settle. Not completely, but enough to make her feel confident that she wouldn't be puking off the side of the boat.

Claire didn't know how long she stood out there staring at the horizon, but suddenly land came into view. All she could see was green, green, green - green trees lining a narrow strip of white sand against the water - but she sighed in relief nonetheless. It was finally over.

She turned back towards the man to thank him for his suggestion as the boat slowed, but he was gone. Feeling dumb, Claire took a moment to compose herself, peeling the material of her top away from her torso and reaching up to smooth her newly-cut hair. The strands already felt frizzy, and Claire cringed at the thought of looking in a mirror. She'd stupidly thought a new, dramatic change of hairstyle would help usher in her fresh start in life, but she hadn't accounted for the humidity when she'd asked for a choppy bob. Her naturally wavy hair was already rebelling strongly against the time she'd spent with her flat iron early that morning.

Claire fumbled in her purse for a hair elastic as she moved with the crowd towards the bow of the boat where the gangplank was unfolding to allow disembarkation on the Jurassic World dock. She hung towards the back, not wanting to be crushed among the other passengers, and took a moment to pull her hair back into what she hoped was a smooth, neat bun at the nape of her neck. Tucking a few flyaways behind her ear, Claire re-shouldered her bag and stepped up onto the top of the steeply angled gangplank. The ramp was made of a metal grating, which was unfortunately the perfect size for the heel of her stiletto to get stuck in.

"Damn it," Claire muttered, trying to crouch down in the most ladylike way possible to free her heel. At least she was the last one off and no one was waiting behind her, watching while she struggled. Claire gasped as the ferry swayed beneath her, almost throwing her backwards.

Before she could fall, a hand landed on her shoulder while another reached down to yank her heel out of the grating. Claire allowed the same hand to cup beneath her elbow and pull her back to standing, making sure she was steady before moving away.

"You should get better shoes," her rescuer said, and Claire saw that it was the same man from the stern of the ship. He was tall, even taller than her with the aforementioned shoes, and for a moment he took her breath away, which Claire was embarrassed to admit. But his shoulders were just so broad, and he looked so strong and in control, even with the slight condescension in his tone, that Claire's most basic instinct was to bat her eyelashes and giggle.

Thankfully, she stopped herself in time. How ridiculous. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd giggled.

Before she could figure out what exactly she should do, the man had already moved past her and was halfway down the ramp.

"Thanks for the advice," she said dryly, and made her way carefully the rest of the way down the gangplank, holding onto both rails for aid and being very careful not to let the heels of her shoes rest too long on the metal.

At the bottom of the ramp, the man paused, and Claire took the opportunity to march past him, making sure to keep her head held high. She made it ten steps before she realized she had no idea where she was going, but resigned herself to following the crowd down the short dock to the landing.

Thankfully, once the rest of the guests cleared off on their way up to what looked like a monorail station, a woman with dark skin and a Jurassic World name tag remained, holding an iPad with Claire's name on it.

"Hello," she greeted. "I'm Claire Dearing."

"Hi, Claire," the woman said kindly, extending her hand. "I'm Nita from Human Resources. Welcome to Isla Nublar."

"Thank you," Claire replied. "Will I be meeting with Mr. Masrani shortly?"

Nita's practiced smile faltered briefly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Masrani won't be on the island today. I believe he'll be here tomorrow for the employee orientation."

"Orientation?" Claire repeated, but Nita was glancing back at her iPad. Claire noticed for the first time that there was another name listed beneath hers on the screen.

"We're just waiting for one more employee," Nita said, holding up the screen again as she glanced around at the few stragglers that remained on the landing. "You two are the last to arrive this week."

"Last to arrive?" Claire repeated once more, starting to feel like a broken record. She hadn't been aware that there would be other employees arriving at the same time as she was. And Masrani hadn't said anything about an orientation. This was starting to feel like her first day at college, and Claire's discomfort from the ship returned. This was why she didn't do change - not being able to know what waited ahead for her was incredibly disconcerting.

Claire's worst fears came true when the condescending man from the boat stepped up to join her and Nita.

"I'm Owen," he said, nodding at his name on the screen, which Claire saw was Owen Grady.

"Great!" Nita said with a smile, slipping the iPad into a messenger bag slung around her shoulder as she introduced herself once more. "If you'll both follow me, we'll hop on the next monorail."

Claire waited uncomfortably next to Owen as the first monorail tram, packed with park guests, departed and the next arrived. This one was considerably less crowded, and Nita motioned Owen and Claire into a row together while she took the seat in front of them. Owen took the window seat without even checking if Claire might have wanted it, and she sat down on the aisle with a huff, arranging her purse on her lap and wondering how long the ride was. Nita spouted off facts and knowledge about the park as the monorail zipped through the jungle, and Claire tried to pay polite attention while Owen kept his eyes trained on the view out the window.

"I'm sorry," Claire interrupted as Nita spouted off guest counts, "did you say 25,000 last season?"

"Yes," Nita said. "25,000 guests between October and March, which is our busiest park season."

"So, only 25,000 during the busy season?" Claire repeated, pulling out her ever-present leather moleskin notebook to jot down the figure. "That...seems low."

Nita narrowed her eyes for a moment before clearing her throat and moving on to her next round of information, which she seemed to be repeating from memory rather than genuine interest in her company. Claire raised her eyebrows and made a few more notes.

"Are you always like this?" Owen asked her. His voice was lowered so that Nita would continue on her spiel uninterrupted, and Claire glanced up to see he'd taken his gaze off the window and had inclined his head closer to hers. Claire straightened up.

"Like what?" she responded defensively.

"Just asking if you take notes, like...all the time, or if this is a special day for you." Owen gestured to her notebook, the corner of his mouth turned up a bit, and Claire bristled.

"I prefer to be observant."

Owen nodded once. "How's that workin' out for you? Especially with the whole...shoe thing?"

Claire sighed and turned back to her notes without responding.

Despite her notes, Claire chose to tune out Nita for the rest of the trip, especially as the monorail approached a set of tall, wooden gates. Claire had done her fair share of research on the history of Jurassic World and its predecessor, Jurassic Park. Having been just ten years old when the first park experienced its share of...troubles, Claire knew nothing about the park's history and took it upon herself to learn whatever she could about it. While the Internet had come up frustratingly bare on the subject, she'd used her alumni access to spend a full day in the UCLA library, accessing roll after roll of microfilm to pull up what she could from 1993, the projected year of the Park's opening, and quick closure. Without being able to find any concrete details, besides the usual Internet message board spiral of hearsay, all Claire knew for sure was that there had been "containment issues". A panel of paleontologists and representatives of investors had toured the facilities during a soft opening of the Park, and a storm hit the island, resulting in power loss to the Park's security system. The loss of power and containment failure of the cloned dinosaur exhibits resulted in four deaths, and that was all the detail Claire could find.

One thing she did know, however, due to a comment by Masrani during their first meeting, and some promotional material she'd found regarding Jurassic World's opening back in 2005, was that the gates the monorail was passing through right now were the original gates from the ill-fated Jurassic Park. The thought gave her an odd sense of foreboding, but Claire shrugged it off as the monorail curved, revealing the interior of the resort.

Claire knew what to expect from studying promotional maps on the park's website beforehand, but the sheer grandeur of the place startled her for a moment. The monorail track curved around a large body of water, which was the hub of the island and the center of the park's attractions. Claire checked back into Nita's speech as she began to describe what was located nearby as the monorail slowed on its way into the visitor's area.

"The lagoon is the location of our Mosasaurus exhibit, and you'll see the arena seating to the right over here," Nita was saying, gesturing as she spoke and glanced at her watch at the same time. "The feedings are every two hours, and it's one of our largest spectacles for guests. The Main Street area here is the hub of the Jurassic World experience, with all exhibits and monorail stations stemming from this central location. All of the shops, dining locations, and the Hilton Isla Nublar Resort are located here, as well." Nita glanced over at them with another pasted-on smile. "We'll be disembarking now, and I will show you to your temporary lodging for the night."

"Temporary lodging?" Claire questioned as the monorail came to a stop. "Could you elaborate?"

Nita's smile became even more forced. "All new employees stay at the hotel before being assigned to full time staff housing. You'll learn more at the orientation tomorrow, but it will probably be a few days before everyone is placed." She rose and motioned for Claire and Owen to follow her off of the monorail and onto the raised platform bordering the track. "Don't worry, the hotel is five-star. I'm sure you'll find it very accommodating."

An short elevator ride took them down to the Main Street level, which was swarming with the guests that had arrived before them. Children of all ages ran around in a buzz of excitement while their parents followed, poking at unfolded park maps. Nita navigated through all of it without pause, leading Owen and Claire right up to the tall glass doors of the hotel.

The lobby within was just as crowded, but Nita bypassed the registration desks and headed straight for the elevator. Inside, she typed a code into a touch screen before reaching into her bag to pull out two key cards tucked carefully into paper envelopes.

"Your luggage has already arrived and been dispatched to your rooms," Nita informed them, handing one key to Claire and one to Owen. "You'll be on the top floor, the executive floor, which is currently housing staff only."

"Are they...private rooms?" Claire asked, inwardly cringing at the idea of having to bunk up with a stranger.

"Yes," Nita replied. "As I said, you'll learn more about our staff housing at orientation tomorrow." She paused. "But with both of your security clearances, I don't think you have to worry about being pleased with your permanent accommodations."

Claire relaxed at Nita's reassurance, already daydreaming about a nice, long shower.

"In your rooms, you'll find a copy of the itinerary for the employee orientation tomorrow, as well as some other informational materials," Nita continued as the elevator doors opened onto the top floor. "Dinner for employees will be served tonight in the hotel restaurant, also located on this floor. Should you have any questions at all, you'll find my name and number in the employee directory located in your rooms."

Claire and Owen stepped off the elevator while Nita remained inside. "Enjoy your evening, and I'll see you both at the orientation tomorrow."

The elevator doors closed, and Nita was gone, leaving Claire and Owen alone in the quiet corridor. Owen held up his key.

"Looks like I'm in room 2045," he said. Claire glanced down at her own key, seeing with relief that she was in room 2022. She couldn't wait to get far away from this man.

"That's nice. I'm sure you'll enjoy it very much." With that, she turned to head in the direction of her room, comforted in knowing his was the opposite direction.

"See you at dinner," Owen called after her, a trace of what might have been laughter in his voice, but Claire didn't turn around to confirm it.

Reaching the plush, air conditioned haven of her room was like walking into a dream. Claire dropped her purse on the carpet and stood in the center of the room to remove her damp blouse and skirt. She stood in the cool air for a several minutes, wearing nothing but her underwear, as her body temperature returned to normal. Once she was appropriately refreshed, Claire retrieved her toiletry bag from her waiting luggage and padded into the large, open-air bathroom, complete with a stone-tiled rainfall shower.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire whispered to the powers that be as she stood under the spray of gloriously cool water, rinsing away the grime from her long, tiring day.

After her shower, feeling amazingly clean and finally relaxed, Claire pulled out her own Egyptian cotton robe from her suitcase, ignoring the hotel-issue waffle weave (who knew where that thing had been). She crossed the suite to stand at the window and look down over the resort, twenty floors below. Now that she was showered and feeling somewhat back to normal, the excitement that had been building in the pit of her stomach for the last month bubbled back up to the surface. The eagerness to start a new job, to dive in to the challenges of the unfamiliar returned. Change is good, Claire told herself silently as she stared out at the park. Change is very, very good.

Once she felt centered, Claire took a moment to look over the informational items Nita had referenced, waiting for her at the foot of the bed. In addition to an orientation schedule, a thick employee handbook, and a directory, there was also a small unmarked white box. Claire opened it to discover a company Blackberry, which Masrani had mentioned in their interview. It came with a full international calling plan, unlimited minutes, text, and data, courtesy of the Masrani Corp. Claire took a moment to plug it in before leafing through the rest of her materials. A glance at the schedule told her that dinner was in one hour, which gave her a short amount of time to fill herself in. She was determined to be the most well-informed person at orientation. That was just how she did things.

An hour later, she'd filled up a page of her notebook along with marking up different pages of the employee handbook, with thoughts, questions, ideas. Claire could feel her mind whirring with possibilities, and she almost hated to stop her creative process to go to dinner. But she hadn't eaten since a quick granola bar in the airport, and she was starving.

By the time Claire got dressed and managed to find the hotel restaurant, she was fifteen minutes late. The restaurant was large and mostly empty - several small tables had been pushed together in the center to form a table long enough to seat the 25 or so other people that were there. Someone in the group must have been telling a story because most everyone was quiet, their attention turned towards the head of the table. Claire took the opportunity to slip in at the far end of the table, mostly unnoticed.

The girl across from her smiled and waved politely before turning her attention back towards the storyteller. Claire leaned forward to see what she was missing, only half-surprised to see that Owen was the one sitting near the head of the table, regaling the group.

"...and to make a long story short, they thought the computer chip in the birthday card, the one that plays the song, was a trigger mechanism for a bomb," Owen was saying, and a few people at the table started to laugh. "So, for safety reasons, they blew it up in the anti-bomb container, and after the charge went off, we could all hear the last pitiful strains of the 'happy birthday' song as the chip died." The entire table erupted into laughter, and Claire folded her hands in her lap, forcing a polite smile. "Let's just say I never heard the end of it, and my mom never sent me another singing birthday card again."

Once the laughter died down, conversation broke out between individuals, trickling down the table. The girl across from Claire offered her hand.

"Hi, I'm Teresa," she said, still smiling with laughter from Owen's story. She was young, with dark blond hair that hung well past her shoulders, and just the right shade of sun-kissed olive skin that Claire had yearned for growing up.

"I'm Claire." They shook hands and Claire returned hers to her lap.

"Owen was telling stories from the Navy," Teresa explained, gesturing up the table towards the man in question. "He is hilarious."

Claire managed another polite smile. "I'm...sorry I missed it."

Throughout the rest of the meal, Claire found out through some casual conversation with Teresa that she'd been hired to work in the genetics lab, and was fresh off her bachelor's degree in biomedical engineering from MIT.

"It's technically just a summer internship before I head back for my graduate work," Teresa explained in between bites of the endive and Brussels sprout salad that Claire had to admit was incredible. "But I'm hoping it turns into a more permanent job offer with InGen after I finish my degree. I'm just so excited to work with Dr. Wu."

Claire nodded, understanding. Dr. Henry Wu was the chief genetic biologist for InGen, Masrani's bioengineering research division, and the original brainchild of John Hammond. "I've heard he has an incredible vision."

Teresa's eyes lit up. "He's amazing. Have you read his book?"

Claire spent the rest of the meal comfortably conversing with Teresa, who was pleasant and easy to talk to, though it was clear she was very sharp beneath her affable personality. Claire made a mental note of that as dinner concluded.

"It was wonderful talking to you," she told Teresa as the table began to clear for the night. "I hope we get the opportunity to work together before you leave the island."

"Me, too," Teresa said, "but you never mentioned what it is you'll be doing at Jurassic World?"

"I'll be the senior assets manager," Claire replied, taking some selfish pleasure in the way Teresa's eyebrows raised a bit. "Mainly working under Mr. Masrani in cultivating and developing new exhibits to increase the park's attendance in the years to come."

Teresa nodded slowly. "That sounds..."

"Super boring," someone interjected, and Claire glanced up to see that Owen had joined them, slipping in the empty chair at the end of the table. "But, hey, somebody's gotta do it, right?"

Teresa giggled a little bit and Claire turned away to roll her eyes discreetly. "Um, we didn't get to meet yet, I'm Teresa." Owen shook her hand congenially. "And, this is Claire."

"We've met," Claire said shortly, already standing up. "If you'll excuse me, I really need to get back to my room. It was lovely meeting you, Teresa."

"It was," Owen agreed, standing up with Claire and following her away from the table.

"What are you doing?" Claire demanded.

"I was going to walk you to your room, since you didn't give me the opportunity earlier," Owen replied.

Claire grimaced. "That's okay. I can find it on my own. Have a good night."

Owen reached the glass doors of the restaurant before she did and held one open for her to pass through. Claire hesitated, but as there was no other direction for her to go, had no choice but to step through. "That's really...thanks. Goodnight."

"You told that girl we met already, but technically, we didn't," Owen said, and Claire turned towards him reluctantly. "We saw each others' names on an iPad screen, and that's about it."

Claire restrained a sigh and extended her hand. Best just to get it over with. "Claire Dearing."

"Owen Grady." Their hands met, and Owen's larger one practically engulfed Claire's. His skin was tanned and his fingertips were callused, showcasing that he was used to working outdoors. Claire's breath caught for a moment as she felt the overwhelming masculine strength from his handshake, and felt almost weak in the knees in response.

"It's...nice to meet you," she said softly. Owen smiled.

"So, you're the senior assets manager," Owen said. "I overheard."

"Um, yes. That's...correct." Claire pulled her hand gently out of his grip and returned it to her side so that she could get her bearings back. "And you are...what is it that you'll be doing here, Mr. Grady?"

"It's Owen, and I'll be working with the raptors," he replied. "Training, mostly."

"That sounds...great," Claire said. She looked down to brush an invisible piece of lint off of her skirt. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to be going."

"Did I do something to offend you?" Owen asked from behind her as Claire started to walk away. She stopped and turned back.

"I...no," Claire replied. "I'm just...tired. It's been a long day for me, and I'd like to go to bed."

Owen's responding smirk was enough to make Claire groan in disgust.

"Goodnight, Mr. Grady," she said firmly as she started down the hall.

"It's Owen," he called after her. Claire ignored him and kept walking.