Page 65 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

As we sit down at a nearby picnic table, the salty breeze ruffles our hair. It feels oddly intimate, which sends a bell ringing in the back of my mind.

“Alright, Mr. Handsome CEO,” she says, folding her arms, the sun casting a warm glow over her face. “What exactly are we going to do next?”

I take a deep breath, “We need to rally the community. Show them that we’re in this together. Local support is crucial.”

She tilts her head, considering my words. “And how do you propose we do that? Most people around here don’t trust big business.”

“Exactly,” I reply, the challenge sparking something in me. “We need to demonstrate that I’m not just another suit looking to exploit their town. A town-wide rally could galvanize residents and local businesses, create a sense of unity. We can showcase the culture, the history—what makes Seaside Cove special.”

She raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “You actually think people will come together for that?”

“Why not?” I lean in, the excitement bubbling up as I outline my vision. “We can have food stalls, local artists, music. I’ll fund it all—no strings attached. It’s about showing them we want to preserve their way of life, not take it away.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell she’s weighing my words. “What’s in it for you? You do know that throwing money at problems won’t make everything better, right?”

I can feel the defensiveness rising within me, but I push it aside. “No. I just want to create something lasting. Something that shows I’m committed to this town and its people. Besides,” I add, my voice softer, “I want to prove that I can be more than just a corporate suit.”

For a moment, there’s silence between us, the weight of my words hanging in the air. Then, unexpectedly, she smiles—a genuine, radiant smile that makes my heart race. “Okay. I’m in. I hope we don’t screw this up.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to.”

As we dive into the details, discussing logistics and ideas, I find myself enjoying this strange collaboration.

Skye’s energy is infectious, and I can’t help but admire her fierce dedication to her community.

It’s captivating.

And amidst our brainstorming, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just about saving Seaside Cove anymore. It’s about something deeper, something I can’t quite articulate but know is there, simmering just beneath the surface.

The more we work together, the more I realize that perhaps I’m not just here to help them—I’m here to help myself, to find a piece of me I didn’t know was missing.

And as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over our plans, I know one thing for sure: Skye Martinez is going to be an integral part of whatever comes next.

***

Just a day before the rally, the excitement of our initial brainstorming session is quickly tempered by the reality that not everyone is on board with my plan.

I stride through the crowd, glancing at the flurry of activity around me—posters being hung, tables being set up, and volunteers buzzing with energy.

Yet I can feel the undercurrents of skepticism lurking just beneath the surface.

“Let’s make sure to address the concerns the residents have,” Skye says, her brow furrowed as she flips through a stack of papers.

She looks beautiful, even in her casual outfit—faded jeans and a loose tank top. I can’t help but admire her determination.

“Right,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. “I’ll speak at the rally. I want them to hear my vision directly from me.”

She nods, but her eyes betray a flicker of doubt. “Just remember, Troy, there are some who still see you as the enemy. You must prove that you’re not just here to exploit them.”

I grit my teeth, annoyance creeping in. “I’m not here to exploit anyone. I want to create something beneficial for both the town and my company.”

But deep down, I can’t shake the feeling of being an outsider, an intruder in their tight-knit community.

I know that my wealth and status paint me in a less-than-flattering light, and the thought gnaws at me. “I’ll reassure them,” I add, forcing confidence into my voice. “I’ll share how this partnership can help them thrive. They need to understand that my company can be an ally, not a foe.”

Skye watches me closely, her expression softening slightly. “Just be honest. That’s all they want.”

I appreciate her unwavering belief in me, but the thought of baring my intentions in front of a room full of skeptical townsfolk makes my stomach twist.

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