Chapter 4
AURELIA
Monday morning hit me like a freight train. I hadn’t even made it to my chair in my tiny, broom-closet sized excuse of an office before Scott and Daniel swooped in like vultures. Scott dropped his jacket over the back of the chair opposite my desk.
“Coffee,” he groaned, sinking into the chair with his fingers pressing to his forehead. “Better make it an espresso.”
His blond hair looked a little mussed, his blue eyes bloodshot. Before I even had to ask, he confirmed my suspicion. “I drank way too much last night. Actually, make that two espressos. I have a meeting this afternoon.
A meeting? As in one? One meeting. All day. Wow.
Daniel followed suit, sinking into the other chair before tossing a file onto my desk. “I need copies of that before ten.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You guys do know that I have actual clients to tend to, right? Real work to do? Ask your assistants to get your coffee or make your copies or, and hear me out, because I know this is going to be a novel idea for you, but you could also do it yourselves.”
Daniel smirked. “Cute. That’s cute.”
My jaw locked, but before I could tell him to shove it where the sun didn’t shine, Scott flashed me a smug grin. “Relax. We just wanted to make sure you’re coming to the party on Friday.”
“Party?” I asked flatly. “What party?”
They exchanged a look that made my stomach dip before Daniel finally looked back at me. “For Michael. He’s starting next week, remember? Dad’s giving him a big welcome.”
My eyebrows swept up high. “Michael? As in, our little brother, Michael? That Michael? He’s barely out of Columbia yet. What the hell would we be welcoming him into?”
“Yeah, that Michael. What other Michael would we be having a party for?” Scott leaned forward, looking much too excited. “I’m sure Dad told you about this. It’s the only thing he’s been talking about for months. Mikey’s coming on as our senior compliance manager.”
My mouth dried up. “Senior compliance manager? That position’s higher than mine. It comes with a seat on the board.”
The ink on our baby brother’s diploma wasn’t even dry yet. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the paper was still warm from printing, but Dad was giving him a seat at the table I’d spent the last three years clawing my way toward.
My blood burned, tears pressing at the backs of my eyes. I was pretty sure I blacked out at some point, because the next thing I knew, I was standing in my father’s office, my heart pounding as I stared at him sitting behind his wide, mahogany desk.
“Dad,” I started, trying to keep my voice steady but failing spectacularly. “What is this I’m hearing about Michael starting in a senior position next week?”
He didn’t even look up from the papers strewn across his desk. “We’ve talked about this, baby. Mikey’s coming on next week.”
“We didn’t talk about it, and a seat on the board? I’ve been here three years and I haven’t even met half our board members yet.”
“You know you won’t be here much longer, honey,” he said as if it was a foregone conclusion.
“Why would you need to meet them when you’ll be settling down soon, going to tea parties and banquets with Mommy.
You’ll be too busy raising my grandchildren to be worried about what Michael is doing. Why do you sound so upset about this?”
I scoffed. “Excuse me? I graduated at the top of my class at Yale Business. I had offers from every major financial institution on both coasts, and I chose to come back here. To work with you.”
“You’re working for me, honey. Not with me.” He finally looked up, calm, but genuinely seeming a bit confused. “That means I decide when, and if, you’re ready for a seat on the board. Even if you do decide to stay, you need more time to grow into it.”
My eyes widened. “Grow into it?”
He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Exactly. Keep your options open, honey. I know Mom can’t wait until you can join her in all those charities she helps out with.”
Something inside me snapped. Or maybe it was more that something was finally awakening. I forced a tight, pageant-perfect smile at him. “You’re right, Dad. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
As I turned and left his office, the smile faded to pure ice. I stormed back to my broom closet, but today, it didn’t feel like the hard-won space they’d acted like they were doing me a favor when they’d cleared it out for me. Today, it felt like a cage.
All along, I’d known my dad was just waiting for me to settle down and tell him I was quitting the firm. Somewhere along the line, I’d simply thought that he’d realized I was serious about this—and good at it.
He had no problems using my talent and skills when he needed it, but evidently, I’d been sorely mistaken. He still didn’t take me seriously despite the fact that I’d built this entire damn department on my back.
Eventually, I realized that I wasn’t going to get any work done today and started gathering my things. I was fuming, but underneath it all, I was also heartbroken. I could hide behind the mask of cool confidence anywhere, anytime, but not here. Not now.
For three years, I’d been busting my ass.
I worked longer hours than anyone else in this office and I’d closed deals they’d all been too afraid to even go after.
The acquisitions department had tripled in the time I’d been running it and every single person here knew I was who you came to when you had a problem.
Despite all of that, Dad was giving Michael a position that would make him my superior and he was getting a seat at the big boy table too. All while I wasn’t even sure if they’d cut off the duct-tape gluing the solo cup to his hand yet after his graduation party.
I loved my little brother. Truly, but this hurt. Fleeing before the entire company saw me at my worst, I went home and broke down there. In private.
Curled into a pathetic little ball on my couch and just cried. For a long time. Until my stomach was sore and my eyes were swollen.
Outside my windows, the day marched on. In between sobs, I watched commuters in the street below. Sidewalks bustling over lunchtime and finally, red brake-lights snaking down the block during peak traffic.
The entire afternoon had passed while I’d been wallowing in my misery, and as the sun set outside, I started pacing. Up and down, back and forth in front of the wide windows in my penthouse. Every step fanned the fire burning inside me now that the grief was receding.
For a long time, I’d known that I had to break free and go out on my own.
Somewhere deep down inside, I’d always hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
I’d dreamed about my dad recognizing everything I’d done for our family business.
I’d prayed that if I just worked hard enough, they’d eventually grow to respect me.
This was an actual Today-I- Learned moment for me, because today, I’d learned that I would never be good enough. Not for my family.
So I pivoted, because it was less painful than sitting still any longer, letting that reality sink in. Running the numbers over and over in my head, I combed through my accounts, the projections for my investments, and every asset I had at my disposal.
I had a hefty trust fund. I could start my own firm. Perhaps my own hedge fund. I could probably move to New York and start fresh. I would be fine.
My dad and brothers didn’t want that, though. They expected me to land that heir, to take over his portfolio, and to fold his influence neatly into ours. I was the best at what I did and they knew it—even if they’d never admit it out loud or acknowledge the value of what I brought to the table.
Yet, if I took the client as my own and kept their fingers out of the bag, I could actually prove it. Prove I could play the game by my own rules. I hesitated before running the numbers again, but even with my my trust fund, there was no way I could come close to what Harrison had offered.
Cash. Upfront. Untouchable. A clean deal. Unless I took him up on his offer to work something out.
As day turned into the dark of night, I looked out at the skyline and thought about what he’d said that night outside the bar.
Unbidden, a smile spread across my lips.
I didn’t know the guy. Hell, I’d only figured out which of the Westwoods he was when I’d looked him up after he’d interrupted my meeting, but as I looked out at the Christmas lights lining the streets, I wondered if his offer was my Christmas miracle.
He was my age, though he’d already turned twenty-four just a couple months ago while my birthday was still coming up. Like me, he had three brothers. That didn’t mean I could trust him, but I picked up my phone and scrolled through his social media.
My eyes rolled at his yacht-boy pictures, but I lingered on some of the photographs. Those that were just of him, smiling in that cocky, carefree way with his dark brown hair windswept and his blue-hazel eyes unguarded.
Finally, I inhaled a deep breath and tapped out a quick message, telling him to meet me at a coffee shop nearby first thing in the morning. I followed it up with the location pin of the place I’d suggested.
Within seconds, before I’d even put my phone down, it pinged with his reply.
@TheRealHarrison: Say please.
I stared at the screen. Part of me wanted to chuck the damn device against the wall, but the other part, the larger, much more stubborn part, wanted to find out just how far I could push this. When that part won out, I blocked him.
Then I went to bed, knowing with perfect certainty that he would be there. Strangely, right now, that felt like the only thing I could really count on.