19. TROY

Chapter nineteen

TROY

I pull my sleek black Mercedes into the company headquarters in New York, gripping the steering wheel with more tension than the vehicle requires.

I didn’t know I’d be back here so soon but this needs to be done.

Because when I leave for Seaside Cove this time, it will be voluntarily.

I’ll be choosing to.

I take a deep breath, straightening my dark maroon Luigi Borrelli tie.

Old Troy would have scoffed at the very idea of relocating to a town where the closest Michelin-starred restaurant is probably a food truck.

Current Troy—the one who's fallen hard for Skye Martinez—sees possibility where he once saw only limitations.

My sisters' cars are already parked in their private spaces.

I can already anticipate their reactions: shock, skepticism, corporate strategy discussions.

I stalk into the board meeting room.

Drew sits by the door, looking relaxed in ways I've never been. Beach living has softened his edges, something I would have criticized mere months ago. Now? I'm beginning to understand.

"Troy." He greets me with a nod. "I can’t believe you dragged me from my home here because of your important news.”

I chuckle. “You all need to hear this at the same time.”

The boardroom is bright, with large windows showcasing the city view.

Mona sits on the couch, looking elegant even in casual wear. Lillian stands near the window, her analytical gaze already sizing me up.

"So," Lillian says, her tone professional even in this setting, "you've called a family meeting."

I sit, maintaining my posture—back straight, shoulders squared. Old habits die hard, even when everything else about me is changing.

"I'm relocating to Seaside Cove," I state, watching their expressions. "Permanently."

Silence.

Drew chuckles softly, understanding something my sisters haven't caught yet.

“Permanently?” Mona asks bewildered.

“You truly have fallen for the food truck girl, haven’t you?” Lillian asks and I nod.

“I have.”

Mona looks amused. A food truck owner? The unspoken judgment hangs in the air.

"She's extraordinary," I find myself defending her. "Smart. Passionate. She fights for her community in ways I never understood before. She's changed how I see everything."

My confession hangs in the room. The Troy Bellamy they know—corporate, driven, emotionally reserved—is admitting to falling in love.

"I love her," I say simply. No elaborate explanation, no corporate strategy. Just a pure, honest declaration.

“And that is what you’ve called us here to say?” Mona asks and I grunt.

“There's more.”

Silence.

The boardroom feels suffocating, even through the pristine glass walls of our headquarters. I've never felt more out of place than I do right now, presenting a plan that goes against everything my family's business has always stood for.

My sisters exchange looks that could freeze hell. Mona, the younger one, taps her manicured nails against the mahogany conference table. Lillian, typically quiet, has her arms crossed — a silent judgment that speaks volumes.

"I want to manage our small-town acquisitions from Seaside Cove.”

"You want to what?" Mona asks, her voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

I take a deep breath, straightening the navy Brioni suit that used to feel like my armor. Now it just feels like a costume from a life I'm no longer certain I want. "You heard me."

Mona's perfectly manicured nails tap against the glass conference table.

My presentation is meticulously prepared, each slide a calculated argument. I've spent nights drafting this proposal, fueled by coffee and thoughts of a certain sassy food truck owner who's turned my entire world upside down.

"Look," I begin, my voice crisp and professional, "our traditional acquisition model is becoming obsolete. Small towns like Seaside Cove aren't just real estate transactions. They're ecosystems."

Lillian raises an eyebrow. She's always been the quiet one, but she's sharp. "Ecosystems?"

"This isn't just about preserving some quaint little town," I say, my voice gaining intensity. "It's about a sustainable business model that respects local economies."

Mona lets out a sardonic laugh. "Since when did you become a small-town romantic? You hate small towns. You've said, and I quote, 'Small towns are economic dead zones that resist progress.'"

She's not wrong. Or at least, she wasn't wrong until Seaside Cove. Until Skye.

"Things change," I say coolly, refusing to let my sisters see how much this means to me. "Our company needs to evolve. Drew has already proven we can successfully integrate into smaller communities without destroying their essence."

I pull up a slide showing Seaside Cove's community metrics. "In the last three quarters, towns we've traditionally approached with pure corporate strategy have seen a 40% resistance rate. Seaside Cove? Different story."

My mind drifts momentarily to Skye - her passionate town hall speeches, her commitment to preserving local businesses. The way she had looked at me when I first revealed my true purpose, her eyes blazing with a mixture of betrayal and determination.

I clear my throat. "By establishing a local presence, we can understand these communities. Adapt. Drew's already proven this model works."

Drew, who fell in love with Meg and became part of Seaside Cove's fabric, represents exactly the approach I'm proposing. The irony isn't lost on me. I, who once scoffed at small-town sentimentality, am now its biggest advocate.

"The potential for positive PR alone is significant," I continue, my corporate persona firmly in place. "We're not just acquiring properties. We're becoming community partners."

Mona looks skeptical. "And this has nothing to do with a certain food truck owner?"

I stiffen. Professional. Controlled. "This is a strategic business decision."

Drew all but spits out his coffee in uncontrollable laughter. I give him what I feel is a well-deserved evil eye, but he’s still sputtering and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Okay, we all know it's more than that. Skye Martinez has gotten under my skin in ways I never expected. Her fierce independence, her creativity, her absolute refusal to be intimidated by my corporate persona - she's everything I didn't know I wanted.”

"I'll prove it works," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Give me one year and I’ll demonstrate, no prove, how our approach can revolutionize our acquisition strategy."

The silence is deafening. Then Lillian speaks, a rare smile crossing her face. "You're in love."

I begin to protest, then stop. Because for once in my meticulously planned life, she’s right.

My phone buzzes. A message from Skye: When are you coming back?

And just like that, my carefully constructed professional demeanor cracks. I'm going home - to Seaside Cove. To her.