Page 12 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

Or how Meg insisted on taking a picture, and Drew's knowing smile when I didn't object.

How for simply a moment, I could almost see the appeal of their simple life here.

"Focus," I remind my reflection. "You're here to research the town's weak points, not play happy family."

I gather my laptop and documents, checking my phone for emails.

Three including my two sisters and one from another board member already.

They're getting impatient. I need to start making real progress on this buyout plan.

I open my door, already mentally listing the properties I need to check out today.

The door across the hall clicks shut just as I step out, and suddenly the air is filled with a familiar scent – vanilla and sea salt and...

My heart does a stupid little jump.

It can't be. What am I doing?

I shake my head, trying to clear it.

Great. Now I'm imagining things. That food truck owner – Skye – is living rent-free in my head, and I haven't even seen her since the curry incident.

"Get it together," I mutter, straightening my tie. "You have work to do."

But as I head downstairs, I can't shake the lingering scent of vanilla, or the way my skin prickled when I caught it.

It's because I'm tired, I tell myself, and confused after a weekend of watching my brother play house with his perfect little family.

That's all it is. That's all it can be.

It’s time to get back to what I do best: business. Cold, hard numbers. Properties and profits. Things that make sense.

Unlike the way my heart is still beating a little too fast from a phantom scent in a hallway.

***

The breakfast room is mercifully empty when I get down there. I grab coffee – surprisingly very good– and pull out my laptop.

Time to actually do what I came here for.

Property values in Seaside Cove are a joke. Prime oceanfront real estate is being wasted on mom-and-pop shops and "historic" buildings that are one strong wind away from collapsing.

The potential here... it's almost obscene how much money these people are leaving on the table.

If they won’t take it, I’ll take it.

I spend the morning mapping out the key properties we'll need.

The cozy little motel I found on the outskirts of the town.

The whole waterfront strip.

That old lighthouse that tourists seem to love for some reason.

It's all ripe for development.

My coffee goes cold as I work, but I barely notice.

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