Page 9 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

We make our way to the exit, stopping every few steps to say goodbye. It's like leaving a family reunion – if your family was an entire town.

"Bye, Mrs. Delmar! Yes, I'll have those fish tacos ready for you tomorrow." "Later, Coach Wilson! Good luck with the game!" "See ya, Mr. Jenkins! Ice that back, okay?"

Finally, we're out in the fresh air. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky with oranges and pinks. Any other day, I would stop to appreciate it. Today, it just feels like a countdown.

"Want to grab a drink?" Zoey asks. "Process all... this?"

I shake my head. "Rain check? I need some time to think."

Zoey gives me a quick hug. "Sure thing. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Will do. G’night, Zoey."

As she heads off, I turn towards the beach. The sand's still warm under my feet as I kick off my shoes. I need to clear my head, and there's no better place for that than by the water.

The waves crash rhythmically as I walk along the shore. Typically, the sound calms me down. Today, it's like they're chanting: "Save our town. Save our town."

I plop down on the sand, watching the sky slowly darken. "Okay, Skye," I mutter to myself. "Think. What would Skylar do?"

Skylar, my alter ego, has always been the smart one, the planner. Me right now? I'm more of a 'throw spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks' kind of girl.

But this is bigger than me. It's about everyone.

I start making a mental list. We could do a petition. Maybe a social media campaign?

Ooh, or a flash mob! Everyone loves a good flash mob, right?

By the time the sun's almost gone, I've got a whole notebook's worth of ideas in my head. Some good, some... well, let's just say 'Taco Truck Barricade' won't make the final cut.

With a sigh, I push myself up. Time to head home and get some real sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day.

The sun's almost gone as I trudge towards home. My brain's fried from all the planning, and all I want is to face-plant into my bed.

As I’m nearing my house, I realize that it looks like a canal rather than a road leading up my street. "What the —"

I slosh up to unlock my front door, step inside, and—

I'm ankle-deep in water. In my living room.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

I slap the light switch. Nothing. Great. I fumble for my phone, clicking on the flashlight.

Oh nooooo!

The beam reveals a disaster zone. My couch is soaked. My coffee table is on its side. And is that... yep, that is definitely a pair of my socks floating by my TV stand.

"This is NOT happening!"

I splash through the water, panic rising in my chest. The kitchen's even worse. My fridge is making a weird humming noise, and the stuff on my bottom kitchen shelf looks like I could wring it out.

A soggy taco punch card drifts by. I snatch it up, but it disintegrates in my hand.

"Are you KIDDING ME?!"

My scream is cut short by voices outside. I wade back to the front door just as my neighbors, the Johnsons, are coming up on the walk.

"Skye?" Mrs. Johnson calls. "Is everything okay in your house …. oh!"

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