Page 2 of Rescued By My Small Town Billionaire

He glances toward the shop, then back at me, his expression grave. “The fire didn’t spread to the apartment upstairs, but there’s smoke damage. The shop will need repairs. It’s not safe for you to stay here.”

I close my eyes, fighting tears. As if this week couldn’t get worse. First Aunt Betty’s funeral, and now this? My throat tightens, but I force myself to nod.

“Thank you,” I manage, though the words feel woefully inadequate.

The morning sun is rising when Maggie Ann shows up, her face pale with worry.

“Oh, Becky,” she breathes, wrapping me in a hug that smells faintly of cinnamon and vanilla. “Josie and I were just getting into work when we heard. I am so sorry.”

“Thank you,” I whisper against her shoulder, trying not to cry.

Ellie and Lulu arrive minutes later. They form a protective circle around me, their concern pouring out in a torrent of questions and reassurances.

“We’ll figure this out,” Lulu says firmly, her hand warm on my arm. “For now, you’re staying with me. No arguments.”

“Lulu, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Becky,” she interrupts, her tone brooking no argument. “You’re staying with me. My place has plenty of room, and you know I’d never forgive myself if I let you go through this alone.”

Her words dissolve the last of my resistance. I nod, too exhausted to argue.

As the firefighters wrap up, I glance around at the soot-covered remnants of my dream. I don’t know how long I stand there, lost in a haze of disbelief, until a thought jolts me upright.

“B!”

Everyone turns toward me, startled by my sudden outburst.

“My kitten,” I explain, panic tightening my voice. “I can’t find her.”

Lulu frowns. “Was she inside?”

“I don’t know. She likes to hide in the shop sometimes, and I—” My voice breaks. The thought of losing B., especially after losing Aunt Betty, is too much. The weight of uncertainty crushes me.

I pace along the sidewalk, my eyes darting to every shadow, every pile of debris, desperate for a glimpse of soft gray fur. My friends hover close by, offering murmurs of encouragement, but their words barely register.

“B.!” I call out again, my voice raw. “Come on, sweetheart. Please.”

The name feels like a fragile link to Aunt Betty, who I lost so recently. That little kitten had been a gift of comfort, her playfulantics and quiet purrs the only light in the haze of grief. The thought of losing her, too, feels unbearable.

“Hey, take a deep breath.”

The firefighter’s voice pulls me back to the moment. He’s standing in front of me, his dark eyes steady, his tone calm but firm. He hands me a bottle of water. “Everything will be okay.” Then he walks back to the firetruck.

I want to believe him, but fear has taken root in my chest.

“Where would she go?” I ask my friends, my voice trembling.

“She could still be in the shop,” Maggie says, glancing back at the smoldering building. “Or she might’ve run somewhere close by.”

“Like the alley?” Ellie offers.

Before I can move, teh firefighter steps in front of me, holding up a flashlight. “No, you’re not going in there. The structure isn’t safe yet. Let me look.”

I blink at him, startled. “But—”

His commanding tone leaves no room for argument. He disappears into the shadows of the alley, his broad shoulders a reassuring presence even as my anxiety twists tighter.

“She has to be somewhere,” I whisper.

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