He held out the glossy folder, slipping it to the client who had been my ticket to freedom, and I saw red. In that moment, I could’ve strangled him with my bare hands.
One hundred million. Just like that. He hadn’t even flinched, but he’d definitely ripped the deal right out from under me like it didn’t mean a thing.
The attorney escorted the client out without saying the word, but I saw the way the man hugged that file. There was no way he was taking my offer.
Even so, I forced my fake smile to hold until the door clicked shut behind them, then I huffed out a breath, spun around, and strode out of the restaurant with my heels striking the marble floor like gunshots. My pulse roared as I climbed into my car and peeled out of the hotel parking lot, but when I reached the Van Alen high-rise, the familiar sight of our building steadied me.
This was my territory. My father’s empire sat twenty-five floors above the city, our crest etched in brass at the lobby entrance, and our name woven into the strands of San Francisco banking history. Like the Westwoods, the Van Alens were old money. Respectable money.
Despite my loss to that asshole, I strode through the revolving doors with my chin held high. I’d been running my dad’s acquisitions and investment department since I’d graduated from Yale Business three years ago, and even though no one in my family seemed to want to give me any credit, I’d built that department—mydepartment—into the powerhouse it was today.
By the time I climbed off the elevator and walked into the Van Alen & Associates executive suite, my breathing had returned to normal, and my brain was functioning a little more clearly again. Despite the astronomical amount Westwood had offered, the client hadn’t accepted just yet.
I still had a chance and I was going to figure out a way to take it. Allowing determination to soothe me, I was doing fine until the first voice I heard was my brother, Scott’s.
“Hey, Aurelia,” he called without even looking up from his phone. “Be a doll and run down to the café for me, would you? Large Americano, extra shot.”
My jaw locked. How hard would I have to work before he stopped treating me like an errand girl?
“Sure,” I said sweetly, because I couldn’t really say anything else. Arguing would only end with him pleading with me to caffeinate him. The thought of running down to the cafe himself would never even cross his mind. “I’ll be back with that soon.”
Instead of heading to the cafe, I walked right back to my car. If there was one thing today had reminded me of, it was that my father was preparing to retire, and he was going to hand his kingdom to my twin brothers—Scott and Daniel—without a second thought.
Just like Scott would never fetch his own coffee, Richard Van Alen would never hand over to the reins to his daughter. That was why today had been so damn important to me. I needed to find a way out, because I wasnotspending the rest of my lifefetching coffee for my brothers simply because they’d been born with penises, only a few years before me.
Screw. That.
CHAPTER 3
HARRISON
The townhouse I was renting was all exposed brick, clean lines, and leather furniture that smelled like success and freedom. I had a house on my parents’ estate as well as my own wing in their mansion ever since my brothers had all moved out years ago.
Maybe I was crazy for renting when I had two perfectly good places to stay, but once I’d come back from Europe and decided to stay, getting my own place seemed like the next logical step. This neighborhood was on the cusp of beingtheplace to live, surrounded by trendy restaurants and bars, and so far, I was loving it here.
The only reason I hadn’t bought this townhouse was because it wasn’t permanent. I wasn’t dumb enough to buy when I knew I wasn’t going to be a bachelor forever, but it was mine for now.
I took one last look at myself in the freestanding, metal framed mirror in my bedroom and grinned. It was Friday night and I was officially ready to hit the town. I grabbed a leather jacket and slid it on, then I headed out, walking to a bar just a couple blocks away to meet up with a few of my old boarding school buddies.
Cold air stung my cheeks, but it felt so good to be walking when I was going out instead of bracing myself for a thirty minute minimum commute from the estate that I didn’t even mind the biting wind. I tucked my chin, hands in my pockets, and marveled in the freedom I felt as I roamed the streets.
It felt like I was back in Europe, but I was at home. In San Francisco and yet, not a single Westwood knew where I was right now. My parents had never been overbearing or anything, but there were a lot of us and with both of them and my three brothers around, it’d always felt like someone was keeping tabs on me.
No more, though. This was a kind of newfound independence and I smiled against my collar, relieved and maybe even a little surprised by how much I was loving my life right now.
Pushing open the door to the bar where I was meeting my friends, I tossed my hand up in a wave when I saw them and weaved around the after-work crowd to their booth. Edison bulbs hung overhead, the ceiling all exposed wooden beams and the booths brand new, padded for comfortable seating.
It was the kind of place where people pretended they weren’t checking out each other’s watches to figure out who had the bigger bank account. Where deals they hadn’t closed yet were boasted about and everyone talked like they were the next big thing on this town’s business scene. My kind of spot.
“Westwooood!” Drew called when I reached them, drawing out the last syllable of my name like he was starting a chant. “How was your first week in the big leagues, bro? Break any hearts yet?”
“Or just bank accounts?” Dean smirked, pushing a pitcher of beer and a glass toward me. “Although, in your business, I’m pretty sure you break the hearts because you’ve broken the bank accounts.”
I chuckled. “I guess that depends on your definition of both. I made a man an offer he can’t refuse, if that counts. The deal hasn’t closed yet, but it will. So yeah, great first week.”
“Shit, you sound exactly like Sterling.” Drew picked up his glass. “He’s grooming you to take over acquisitions when he becomes CEO, right?”
I snorted. “Nope. I don’t think so, boys. Maybe if I manage to close this deal, he’ll start taking me seriously, but for now, he wants me to, and I quote,be young and live a little.”
