Chapter 117 Finding Common Ground
Alex: POV
I wandered through the outskirts of Marin Village, taking in the quaint houses with their hand-crafted wooden porches and rustic charm.
So different from the glass and steel towers back in the city. These homes had character—weathered cedar siding, hand-carved porch railings, and chimney smoke curling into the evening air. The smell of someone grilling dinner made my stomach growl like crazy.
As I passed a cute two-story house with a white picket fence, I spotted a little girl, maybe six or seven, playing with a doll in the front yard. She sat cross-legged on the grass, totally focused on arranging tiny tea cups around her doll.
She looked up when I stopped, her eyes going wide at the sight of a stranger.
"Hello there," I said, leaning against the fence. "That's some serious tea party action you've got going on."
She studied me for a second, then nodded super seriously. "It's not just any tea party. It's a royal tea party. Princess Sparkle is visiting from her kingdom."
"I wouldn't want to interrupt royal business," I replied, matching her serious tone. "I'm Alex, by the way."
"I'm Ella," she said, standing up and brushing grass from her overalls. "Do you like dolls?"
I laughed. "Can't say I played with many growing up, but yours looks pretty cool."
My stomach chose that moment to growl super loud. Ella giggled, and I felt my face get hot.
"Sorry about that. I'm starving. Haven't eaten since lunch, and my blood sugar's crashing." I dug through my bag and pulled out an energy bar. Ella watched with big curious eyes as I unwrapped it.
"Want some?" I broke off a piece. "It's chocolate chip."
Ella hesitated, glancing toward the house before nodding eagerly. I passed the piece through the fence, and she took it with a smile that showed a missing front tooth.
Just as she took a bite, the front door swung open, and a woman rushed onto the porch. Her face went from neutral to pissed off the second she spotted me.
"Ella! Get away from him," she yelled, hurrying down the steps.
"It's okay, Mom," Ella said with chocolate all over her lips. "He's nice. He gave me candy."
The woman grabbed Ella and pulled her back. "You're one of them, aren't you? From that resort company coming to wreck our village."
I held up my hands. "I'm Alex Hamilton from Ace Architecture. I'm just here to listen to what folks in the community have to say about the Riverwalk project."
"Well, go listen somewhere else," she snapped. "Not at my fence, talking to my kid."
Ella peeked around her mom's legs. "But Mom, he's super hungry. He hasn't eaten since lunch."
The woman's eyes narrowed as she looked me over, taking in my rumpled clothes. "City boy can't find a restaurant?" Her tone was mocking, but I could tell she was softening a little.
"I wanted to talk with locals, get a real feel for your concerns," I explained. "But yeah, I probably should've grabbed dinner first." I shrugged, trying to look harmless. "I feel really awkward showing up empty-handed like this. I only have these..." I gestured to my bag. "But if you need it, this first aid kit is pretty comprehensive. Just got back from hiking through the proposed site."
The woman's expression shifted from suspicion to mild amusement. "We don't need payment for basic hospitality around here."
Ella tugged at her mom's hand. "Mom, we have tons of extra spaghetti. Dad always makes way too much."
The woman hesitated. After what felt like forever, she sighed. "Fine. You can join us for dinner. But only because I want to hear exactly what your company is planning to do to our town."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," I said sincerely. "And sorry about the first aid kit offer. City habits die hard, I guess."
She shook her head, but her expression had softened slightly. "Come on in, city boy."
As I followed her through the gate, Ella skipped ahead, shouting, "Mom said the candy man can stay for dinner!"
"The what?" A deep voice called from inside.
I winced. This was gonna be awkward.
Inside, the house was nothing like city apartments. Exposed wooden beams crossed the ceiling, and the furniture looked handmade—not the mass-produced stuff you'd find at IKEA.
Family photos covered the walls, and the whole place smelled amazing—garlic and tomato sauce making my mouth water instantly.
In the kitchen, a tall bearded guy was stirring a pot of sauce. He looked up as we walked in, and his face darkened when he saw me.
"Sarah, who the hell is this?" he asked, his voice tight but controlled.
"This is Alex from the resort company," she replied, practically spitting the word 'resort.' "He was talking to Ella through the fence."
The man's face hardened. He put down his wooden spoon and pulled Sarah aside, whispering urgently.
I pretended to be super interested in a kid's drawing on the fridge while they argued in hushed voices. Ella had wandered back to the living room, totally unbothered by the adult drama.
Finally, the man went back to the stove, his back stiff. "I'm Tom," he said without turning around. "Come in, sit down. All visitors are welcome, I guess."
His tone said the exact opposite, but I took the offered chair at the kitchen table.
"Thanks for having me," I said. "Your home is amazing—the woodwork is incredible."
Sarah made a dismissive noise as she set the table. "Save the smooth talk. We know why you're here."
I decided to try a different approach. "Actually, I'd love to hear about your family first. How long have you guys lived in Marin Village?"
This seemed to throw them off. Tom glanced over his shoulder, frowning. "Three generations. My grandpa built this house with his own hands. Every beam and floorboard."
"That's seriously cool," I said, genuinely impressed. "You don't see that kind of craftsmanship or family history much anymore."
"Which is exactly what your fancy resort will destroy," Sarah cut in, slamming a bowl of salad on the table.
I nodded, acknowledging her point. "I get your concerns. That's why I'm here—to listen and find a better way forward."
Tom brought the pot of spaghetti to the table. "Ella, dinner!" he called out.
As we settled around the table, I watched their family dynamic. Tom served his daughter first, his face softening as he asked if she wanted extra cheese. Sarah was still tense, but she passed me the salad without me asking. These were good people—just scared of losing their way of life.
"So," I said after complimenting the food, "what worries you most about the Riverwalk project? The environmental stuff? The tourism?"
Sarah and Tom exchanged looks. "All of it," Tom said bluntly. "The plans we saw showed massive clearing of the old-growth forest, messing with the creek that feeds local farms, and huge concrete buildings that would stick out like a sore thumb next to our wooden homes."
"Plus the traffic, noise, and drunk tourists stumbling around all night," Sarah added. "We're a quiet community. I don't want this peace and tranquility to be destroyed."
I nodded, taking mental notes. "Those are all totally valid concerns. I've been looking at those initial plans, and honestly, they're pretty problematic."
This caught their attention. Sarah leaned forward. "What do you mean?"