I mentally slap myself. Cole is Jake’s best friend. Cole has known me since I was fourteen with braces and bad eyeliner choices. Cole is completely off-limits because I just escaped one bad relationship, and the absolute last thing I need is to complicate my life with feelings for someone who was doing his job and being a decent human being.
“You okay?” Jake’s watching me with that older brother radar that picks up on everything.
“Fine. Just tired.” I drain half the coffee in one long swallow. “I should head over to the café. See what’s salvageable. Talk to the staff.”
“You sure?”
“No, but sitting here overthinking isn’t helping anyone.”
The café looks worse in daylight. Last night, it was chaos, emergency vehicles, and people shouting commands. This morning, it’s just quiet devastation. The building sits on Lakeshore Drive exactly where it’s always been, except now the white exterior is blackened with soot, the roof is partially cavedin, and the windows are blown out from the heat. Yellow caution tape surrounds everything like crime scene barriers.
A few staff members are clustered on the sidewalk when I pull up. Emma, Marcus, and Jennifer. They spot my car and rush over immediately.
“Rachel!” Emma pulls me into a hug that smells like vanilla and worry. “We were so terrified when we heard you and Tommy were trapped inside.”
“We’re okay. Not even a scratch.” I extract myself before the group hug gets too intense. “Anyone heard from Doug and Linda?”
“They’re driving back from Seattle,” Marcus says. “Should be here tonight. Fire marshal won’t let anyone inside until the structural engineer signs off on it being safe.”
“Could be days before that happens,” Jennifer adds quietly. “Maybe longer.”
We stand there staring at the ruins. The morning sun makes everything look worse somehow, less like an emergency and more like permanent destruction. I can see straight through to what used to be the kitchen from here, can see melted equipment and collapsed ceiling beams, and the whole reality of it crashes over me again.
This isn’t temporary. This isn’t something we recover from quickly.
This is just gone.
“What about paychecks?” Jennifer’s voice is small, apologetic. “I know it’s terrible timing to ask, but I have rent due next week.”
“I’ll make sure Doug knows everyone needs to get paid regardless of what happens with the building.” I pull out my phone to make a note. “Insurance should cover lost wages.”
“Think they’ll rebuild?” Emma asks.
“I honestly don’t know.” I take one last look at the café, trying to memorize it before it disappears completely. “I hope so.”
They eventually drift back to their cars, promising to stay in touch and share any news. I linger for a few more minutes, absorbing the full scope of what I’ve lost. Not just the job or the paycheck. The routine. The purpose. The evidence that I could come back to this town and actually make something work.
Three months. I lasted exactly three months before everything literally went up in flames.
I’m almost to my car when I notice Marco’s black SUV parked down the street. He’s inside doing whatever investigators do, and I’m grateful enough that he’s not approaching me with more questions that I don’t wait around to see if he changes his mind.
Back at the house, Jake’s disappeared into his office, which means I have the place to myself. I’m contemplating whethera second coffee is advisable when I hear vehicles pulling up outside.
Through the front window, I spot Cole’s truck and Theo’s Jeep in the driveway.
My heart does this stupid flutter thing that I immediately shut down because fluttering is not on today’s agenda.
They’re knocking before I can decide whether to pretend I’m not home. Jake materializes from his office and lets them in, and suddenly my quiet house is filled with broad-shouldered firefighters who smell like soap and summer and make the living room feel about half its normal size.
“Hey.” Cole’s eyes find mine immediately, and the concern in them makes my chest tight. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m alive, unemployed, and apparently internet famous against my will. Living the dream.” I stay planted on the couch because standing up feels like acknowledging something I’m not ready to face. “What brings you by?”
“Wanted to check on you,” Theo says, dropping into the armchair with effortless grace. His smile is genuine and warm, the kind that makes you want to smile back even when you’re drowning. “Make sure you’re actually okay after last night.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re really not.” Cole sits on the coffee table directly in front of me, which means I can’t avoid looking at him anymore. “You almost died, Rachel. That’s not something you shake off and move on from.”
