Page 56 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

Game. Set. Martinez.

People start approaching me, their earlier skepticism replaced by curiosity and something that looks a lot like respect.

Mrs. Chen from the bakery reaches me first. "That was quite something, Skye," she says, her eyes twinkling. "Never thought I'd see someone connect so robustly to those corporate types quite like that."

I can't help but grin. "Just doing what needs to be done, Mrs. Chen."

One by one, local business owners crowd around. The hardware store owner, the bookshop manager, even old Mr. Peterson - they're all talking over each other, asking questions, offering congratulations.

"Zoey!" I spot her weaving through the crowd, her mischievous trademark smile spreading across her face.

"My girl!" She practically tackles me with a hug. "You killed it up there. Absolutely demolished it."

I laugh, feeling the tension finally start to melt away. "We did good, right?"

Zoey rolls her eyes. "Good? You just saved the entire town's future." She leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorialwhisper. "Pub. Now. Celebration time. I've already called ahead. We’re on the patio, side porch."

The pub is packed by the time we arrive. Word travels fast in Seaside Cove, and everyone wants to toast to our success. Troy's sisters are preparing to leave, their corporate personas slightly softened after the presentation.

"We'll be in touch," Lillian says to Troy, her voice a mix of grudging respect and continued skepticism.

Mona adds a quick, "Impressive work, Troy," before they both sweep out of the pub, designer heels clicking against the worn wooden floor.

I catch Troy's eye, and we share a look. A moment of pure, shared triumph.

The pub is loud, warm, filled with the kind of community spirit we just fought to preserve. Local craft beer flows, people are laughing, and for the first time in months, there's a sense of hope hanging in the air.

"To Skye and Troy!" Someone shouts, and the entire pub erupts in cheers.

I feel Troy's hand take hold of mine under the table. A tiny, electric connection that says more than words ever could.

We did it. We actually did it.

"Want some air?" he asks, and I quirk an eyebrow.

"We're already outside, genius."

He chuckles. That deep, rumbling laugh that does ridiculous things to my insides. Traitor, I tell my heart.

“I mean outside, Skye Martinez.”

I grin at the name and nod.

The pub's warmth slowly fades behind us as we step outside. Cool evening air kisses my flushed cheeks, and I take a deep breath. Victory tastes like salt, beer, and something else, very indefinable.

Troy's standing close.

Too close. Not that I'm complaining.

My hair's slightly messy from all the celebrating, and I can feel the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins.

We just saved the town. I know it!

The streetlights cast this soft golden glow, making everything look like some romantic movie set. The pier stretches out to our left, waves gently lapping against the wooden posts. Seaside Cove looks magical - our magical little town that we just protected.

My hand is still tingling from where it brushed against his during the presentation.

And now? Now we're standing close enough that I can smell his cologne - something expensive obviously. Because, of course, a billionaire CEO would smell like money and sophistication.

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