Page 44 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

Three cups of coffee, two conference calls with our legal team, and one very enlightening conversation with our market research department have led me to one conclusion: I've been an idiot.

"Run those numbers by me one more time," Mona says through my laptop speaker. My youngest sister's face fills one part of the screen, while Lillian occupies another. Both wear the trademark Bellamy skeptical expression.

"The projections show a 47% higher community engagement rate in locations where we've maintained local business autonomy," I explain, for what feels like the hundredth time. "Drew's partnership model with Seaside Inn has outperformed our traditional acquisitions by 23% in guest satisfaction and repeat bookings."

"Since when do you care about community engagement?" Lillian asks, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Last month you said small-town sentimentality was eating into our profit margins."

I suppress a wince. She's right – that sounds exactly like something I would have said. The Troy from three weeks ago would have sneered at the very idea of compromise.

"Things change," I say, shuffling through my papers. "Look at the demographic shifts. Younger travelers are actively seeking authentic local experiences. They want character, not corporate uniformity."

"And this sudden revelation has nothing to do with a certain food truck owner?" Mona's smile is knowing. Even through the screen, I can feel myself being read like a quarterly report.

"This is about smart business," I counter, but my voice lacks conviction. "Our competitors are already moving in. If we don't adapt our approach, we'll lose these markets entirely."

"Mhmm." Lillian leans closer to her camera. "That's why you've been up since dawn working on this new proposal? Pure business?"

I loosen my tie – another tell they'll definitely notice. "Have either of you actually been to Seaside Cove?"

They exchange glances. "No, but …”

"Then come." The words surprise even me. "This weekend. See what Drew saw. What I see."

"Troy," Mona sighs, bouncing her youngest who is slightly off-screen. "We trust your judgment on acquisitions. Usually. But this complete reversal …"

"… is based on solid market research and first-hand observation." I pull up another spreadsheet. "But don't take my word for it. Come see for yourselves."

There's a long pause. Lillian taps her pen against her desk – a habit from childhood that means she's considering something.

"You're serious about this," she says finally. It's not a question.

"Dead serious." I lean back, choosing my next words carefully. "Remember when Drew first told us about Meg? About staying in Seaside Cove?"

"We thought he'd lost his mind," Mona says softly.

"And now?"

"Now he has a beautiful wife, a precocious son, an adorable daughter, and the inn's profits are up 40% over a year ago." Lillian finishes. "Point taken."

"So, you'll come?"

Another shared look between my sisters. Even separated by screens, they've always had this uncanny ability to communicate silently.

"Fine," Mona says. "But don’t expect me to fall in love or anything. I’m bringing my hardest self.”

"And I'm bringing my spreadsheets," Lillian adds. "If we're going to restructure our entire small-town acquisition strategy, I want to run my own numbers."

"Deal." I try to hide my relief, but I'm sure they see it anyway. "I'll have Drew help with arrangements."

"Troy?" Mona's voice stops me before I can end the call. "Is she worth all this?"

The question hits harder than expected. I think of Skye's passion when she talks about her recipes, her laugh when I admitted I'd never eaten from a food truck before, the way she lights up when talking about her plans for the future. A future I almost destroyed.

"The town is worth it," I say diplomatically.

"Right." Lillian smirks. "The town."

After ending the call, I lean back in my chair, loosening my tie completely. A breeze from the open window carries the scent of the ocean, mixed with something else – the unmistakable aroma of Skye's food truck. She's back at her usual spot by the pier.

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