Page 127 of Serving the Mogul

I took a deep breath and said, “Give me a minute.”

“Take your time, baby.”

Closing my eyes, I did a mental exercise I’d learned in high school I’d used for shooting competitions. I attempted to clear my mind of everything. But it didn’t work as effectively now, but then again, there was a big difference between focusing on a competition and trying to hold it together when my home was burning to the ground.

“Let’s get it over with.” I squared my jaw. My voice didn’t sound anywhere near steady, but at least I wasn’t crying.

James squeezed my neck gently.

We had to abandon the car. There was still a half-block ahead of us. The police had already established a cordon, the yellow tape looking oddly garish under the flashing red, blue, and yellow lights from various emergency vehicles.

We made it less than ten yards when an officer near the yellow police tape held up a hand.

“That’s my home.” My voice came out in barely a whisper. I stared past him at the angry red glow that had devoured my little home. I’d worked sohardon the small place, been so damned proud of it.

“Ma’am?”

I blinked at the officer, not understanding.

“She said that’s her home, officer,” James said, moving to stand closer, his thumb stroking the back of my hand.

“Yes, ma’am.” The officer looked us up and down, then focused on me. “Do you have your ID on hand?”

Automatically, I reached for the phone wallet, only to remember I’d left it in the car.

But as I turned to tell James, he held out the vivid pink case to me.

“I saw it on the console,” he said. “Figured you might need it.”

Nodding, I opened the magnetized flap on the back and held it open to the cop. Man, I hoped he didn’t expect me to pull out the license. My hands were shaking too badly for that much coordination. He flicked a look at it then gave it back to me.

The officer lifted the yellow tape and said, “Come on through but stay with me until I figure out who you need to talk to.”

I didn’t particularly want to be closer to the burning remnants of my home, but I ducked under the tape, tightening my grip on James’ hand. I’d never been the kind of woman who leaned on a man for comfort or strength. Even with Cecil, I’d never looked to him for support—although James was a million times better than Cecil.

The feel of James’ hand tightening around mine was the steadying guidance I needed. We followed the police officer’s instructions and stood by his cruiser less than ten feet away.

James leaned against the police car and tugged me into his arms. I let him, but I didn’t give in to the temptation to bury my face and hide from the reality in front of me.

Shouts rose into the air, the words unintelligible but the urgency unmistakable.

James tensed, picking up on the increased activity in front of us. Dread wrapped a fist around my throat as several of the firefighters backed away, each of them shouting to another.

A wall crumbled. Glass exploded from the windows and more flames shot into the sky.

“Tina? Oh, thank God you’re okay.”

Swallowing around the knot in my throat, I saw Mavis, my neighbor, rushing to me, her white-blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She was always well dressed, but tonight she wore a pair of red and white polka pajama bottoms and a worn tank top.

As she came closer, her arms were wide open, and she hurled herself at me, holding me tight.

When we broke, I saw her gaze flicker to James. “This is James. My…boyfriend.”

I wasn’t sure how else to introduce him.

Mavis offered James her hand and a watery smile. “Hi. I’m Mavis.”

“Mavis. Do you know who called and reported the fire?”

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