13. TROY

Chapter thirteen

TROY

I sit in the little town's cafe, feeling completely out of my element.

The space is nothing like I’m used to. I’ve obviously not had to convince a bunch of people about my plans in a little cafe before.

Everything here screams "small town charm." The exact opposite of everything I represent.

Skye stands before me. I can feel her skeptical eyes boring into me, challenging every word I'm about to say.

She's a force of nature, this woman, a tornado in a sundress. And I’m strangely drawn to her, despite the constant friction between us.

After our tumultuous history — the disastrous first meeting, the revelation of my corporate intentions, and the unexpected moments of connection we've shared — I know I'm walking a razor-thin line.

"I have a proposal," I start again, my voice crisp and professional, the tone that's closed million-dollar deals across the country. "And before you interrupt — which I know you're dying to do — just listen."

I watch her cross her arms; one eyebrow arched.

Classic Skye.

Always ready for a fight.

My fingers unconsciously straighten my now-rumpled collar. The gesture is pure muscle memory — a reminder of my corporate training, of the polished image I've cultivated for years.

But something about Skye makes me feel slightly off-balance, like my carefully constructed persona has a few unexpected cracks.

“Well, let’s have it.” someone says.

I nod. “I want to become a silent partner against the town's buyout."

The words hang in the air, and I can see the surprise flicker across her face.

Good. I've learned that in negotiations the first step is always to be unexpected.

“What are you trying to say?” Skye narrows her eyes at me.

“Exactly that. I want to be a partner against the buyout.”

“Does that even make sense?!” Someone else says.

“Trust me, it makes perfect sense. I would know.”

"So, Mr. Bellamy," a voice drawls, "you think you can waltz into our town and tell us how to run things?" The speaker, a grizzled old man with a face like a weathered barn, leans forward, his eyes boring into mine.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Actually, Mr. Jenkins, I believe we can offer a solution that benefits everyone.” I keep my voice steady, but inside, I'm seething.

"You mean," Skye says slowly, "instead of buying out Seaside Cove, you want to protect it?"

I suppress a sardonic chuckle. "Let's not get sentimental. This is a strategic business decision." But even as I say the words, I know they sound hollow. Because something has shifted in me since arriving in this infuriating, charming town.

The truth is that my research into Seaside Cove has revealed a community with genuine heart.

Small businesses intertwined like a complex ecosystem, each supporting the other.

My corporate instincts initially saw this as a weakness. Now, I'm starting to see it as a strength.

Other rival companies are circling like sharks, and I know their intentions are far less nuanced than mine. They'll strip this town down to its bare bones, selling off pieces to the highest bidder.

I can't let that happen. Not anymore.

"I have a comprehensive plan," I continue, pulling out a meticulously prepared document. Old habits die hard — I might be reconsidering my approach, but I'm still a strategist at my core. "If we position this correctly, we can create a model for sustainable small-town economic development that could be replicated elsewhere."

"Your proposal," the old man scoffs, "is nothing more than a corporate takeover in disguise."

I suppress a sigh. "On the contrary, Mr. Jenkins. We're offering a partnership, a chance to preserve the town's unique character while ensuring its future prosperity."

I can feel the tension in the room rising. These people are suspicious, resistant to change. Drew isn’t saying anything, but he looks around skeptically.

I really hope this works, even as they cling to their outdated ways, oblivious to the changing world around them.

I've always been a man of action, not words. I prefer to get things done, to see results. But here, in this small-town drama, I'm forced to play a different game. A game of persuasion, of compromise. It's a role I'm ill-suited for, but I'll play it, for Skye, for the town, and for myself.

An hour later, the crowd disperses. Only Skye and Drew remain.

Skye takes the document, her fingers brushing mine. Even that slight touch sends an unexpected jolt through me. Attraction, annoyance, respect — the emotions are so tangled, I can barely distinguish them.

She's studying the documents with a focused intensity that reminds me why I was initially drawn to her.

Not just her beauty — though heaven knows she's stunning — but her fierce commitment to her community. Something I've never allowed myself to understand before.

"This could actually work," she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

I nod, a flicker of hope igniting within me. "It will work," I assure her, though a part of me doubts my own words. I’ve never been one to rely on hope. I prefer cold, hard facts and calculated risks.

But with Skye, it's different. She brings out a side of me I didn’t know existed, a side that's more vulnerable, more human.

“It will work, because most of the board of directors of my company are here and we only have to convince them of our plan.”

Just then, the door swings open. Lillian and Mona, my two sisters, walk in, along with two of the other remaining board members walk in.

Their expressions are filled with skepticism and slight annoyance.

"So," Lillian begins, her voice dripping with disapproval. "Why exactly have you invited us to this town?”

“What is going on?” Mona asks as Drew walks over to them.

“Hi sisters.” He grins and pulls them into a three-way bear hug. They at least smile. “Please hear him out, I think he’s onto something.”

Mona folds her arms across her chest. “Well? What are you onto, Troy?”

I brace myself. "I told you; I'm working on a plan to revitalize the town without resorting to a full-scale buyout."

Mona scoffs. "A pipe dream, if you ask me."

I glance at Skye, who's standing tall, her chin tilted defiantly. She's a fighter, a survivor. And I'm starting to realize that I need her by my side.

"We're not just going to give you a free pass, Troy," Lillian warns. "You'll have to prove to us that this plan is worth pursuing financially."

I nod, determined. "We will."

I take a deep breath and begin my presentation. I talk about the potential of the town, the opportunities for growth and development. I highlight the unique character of Seaside Cove, the kind of place that people dream of.

Skye takes over, her voice filled with passion. She speaks about the community, the people who make Seaside Cove special. She talks about the local businesses, the artists, the fishermen. She paints a picture of a thriving town, a place where people can live, work, and play.

As we finish our presentation, there's a moment of silence. My sisters exchange glances, their expressions indecipherable.

Finally, Lillian speaks. "Your plan is ambitious, Troy. And it's also risky."

"We're willing to take that risk," I say. "Because I believe in the future of Seaside Cove."

Mona nods. "You've certainly piqued our interest.” Then, with the affirmations of the other board members present, she adds: “we’ll give you a chance to present your full proposal next week."

A wave of relief washes over me. We've taken the first step. Now, all we need to do is deliver.

After Drew and my sisters leave, I turn to Skye. "We need to impress them. We need to show them that we're serious."

Skye nods, her eyes flashing with determination. "I hope I’m not a fool for trusting you one more time but, I’ll do it."

As we leave the cafe, I turn to Skye, a smile playing on my lips. "Hungry?”

She sighs. “Could eat a cow.”

“Well, then come with me.”

***

The tension in the pub is thick. The low hum of conversation is punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the soft pop of beer bottles.

Skye and I find a secluded booth, the dim lighting casting long shadows across our faces.

We've just finished our presentation to Lillian and Mona, and while the outcome is uncertain, there's a sense of relief. For now, at least, we've bought ourselves some time.

"I can't believe you’re actually on our side, that you’re trying to convince your company to help. I can’t believe we did it," Skye says, her voice barely a whisper.

I nod, my gaze fixed on her. She's flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. It's a side of her I’ve rarely seen, a side that's vulnerable and hopeful.

"We make a good team," I say, trying to keep my tone casual. But the truth is, I've never felt so connected to anyone. There's a spark between us, a chemistry that's undeniable.

We fall silent, the only sound the soft jazz playing in the background. I reach out and take her hand, my fingers intertwining with hers. She doesn't pull away. In fact, she squeezes my hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between us.

The night wears on, and as the wine loosens our inhibitions, the conversation turns to deeper topics.

We talk about our dreams, our fears, our hopes for the future. I find myself opening up to her, sharing parts of myself that I've never revealed to anyone else.

It's a strange and exhilarating feeling, this vulnerability. I've always been a man who guards his heart, who keeps his emotions in check. But with Skye, it's different. She has a way of breaking down my defenses, of making me feel seen and understood.

As the pub begins to empty, we find ourselves alone. The soft glow of the lamplight casts a romantic ambiance, and a sense of intimacy fills the air.

"I don't want this night to end," Skye says, her voice barely a whisper.

I lean in, our faces inches apart. "It doesn't have to."

Our lips meet, a gentle, tender kiss. It's a moment of pure connection, a moment suspended in time. As the kiss deepens, I feel a surge of passion that I've never experienced before. We spend the next half-hour walking her home. I feel like a teenager.

I am falling hard for Skye Martinez. Big time hard.

***

The next morning, I wake up with a start. The events of the previous night replay in my mind, a vivid dreamlike sequence. I can't believe what I've done. I, Troy Bellamy, the epitome of control and restraint, have given in to building a relationship.

I glance at the clock. I'm late for breakfast with my siblings. I quickly shower and dress, my mind racing. I need to focus on the task at hand: continue convincing my family to support my plan for Seaside Cove.

As I arrive at the restaurant, I see my siblings already sitting at a table. Lillian and Mona, as always, exude an air of superiority. Drew, on the other hand, looks relaxed and content.

"You're late," Lillian scolds.

I apologize, but my mind is elsewhere. I'm thinking about Skye, about the future, about the risks I'm taking.

"So, what is it that has really changed your mind; what is this plan of yours, really?" Mona asks, her tone skeptical.

I take a deep breath. "I want to invest in Seaside Cove. I believe it has the potential to become a thriving tourist destination."

Lillian leans back, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, big brother," she drawls, "this sudden change of heart about Seaside Cove wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain beautiful food truck owner, would it?"

I feel my jaw tighten. Of course they'd zero in on Skye. I let out a short, sardonic laugh. "Seriously? You think I'd upend a multi-million-dollar corporate strategy because of a woman?"

Mona raises an eyebrow. "Wouldn't be the first time a Bellamy got derailed by an unexpected connection." She glances meaningfully at Drew, who's been happily married to Meg for a few years.

I roll my eyes, straightening my already impeccable navy blazer. "This is a strategic business decision. Nothing more." The words sound practiced, rehearsed. But even as I say them, I know they're only half true.

Skye Martinez is more than just a complication. She's a force of nature - passionate, intelligent and infuriatingly stubborn. She sees through corporate baloney in a way that both irritates and intrigues me. The way her eyes flash when she's passionate about protecting her town, the determined set of her jaw when she challenges me - it's not just attraction. It's... something else.

"Strategic, huh?" Drew mutters, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Enough," I snap, my corporate persona sliding back into place. "Let's discuss the actual logistics of this proposal."

I pull out my meticulously prepared documents, spreading them across the table. Numbers, projections, potential revenue streams - my comfort zone. I walk them through my comprehensive plan for Seaside Cove, breaking down how preserving the town's unique character could actually create a more sustainable long-term investment.

Lillian looks impressed despite herself. "The market research is solid," she admits. "But this is unprecedented for our company."

"Precisely why it could work," I counter. "We're not just buying and developing. We're creating a model for responsible small-town economic development."

Mona studies me carefully. "You realize, of course, that while we're intrigued, you still need to convince the rest of the board in New York."

I nod, my mind already strategizing. "I'll return to New York after the town council presentation. I'll need to prepare a comprehensive pitch that demonstrates the unique opportunity Seaside Cove represents."

The thought of leaving Seaside Cove - of leaving Skye - creates an unexpected tightness in my chest. I push the feeling aside.

This is business. Personal feelings have no place in corporate strategy.

"You've changed," Drew observes quietly. It's not an accusation, just an observation.

I scoff. "I haven't changed. I've adapted."

But even I don't entirely believe that.

The conversation continues, diving deep into financial projections and potential challenges. My mind, however, keeps drifting to Skye - her fiery spirit, her commitment to her community, the way she looks at me like she can see right through my carefully constructed walls. Her lips …

This town, this woman - they're disrupting everything I thought I knew about business, about myself.

And surprisingly, I'm not entirely sure I want to go back to the way things were before.