Page 1 of The Acquisition

ONE

JANA

"Miss Easton, I didn't expect you." The doorman shifted his weight between his feet.

"I know, I'm usually already home by now. I can't wait to get out of these clothes and curl up in bed." I longed to kick off my shoes and slip out of the image of Jana the heiress. It might have been a role I was born to play, but much like my shoes, it wasn't a comfortable fit.

"No, ma’am. I mean, I thought you moved out." He was clearly uncomfortable, but I didn't have the patience to try and figure out why he'd think something so odd.

The elevator beckoned, and I moved toward it with growing anticipation. A short ride up to the top and I'd be able to start the process of putting this awful night behind me.

The last few months I'd not only been passed over for a promotion at my family's company, but I'd actually lost my position. All because I didn't have the qualifications my father felt were essential for running the Marketing Department. Well, there was only one qualification that mattered to my father, the presence of a penis.

My cousin Chad possessed that particular prerequisite. At least he was rumored to. I'd yet to meet anyone who could confirm that fact, despite his efforts to prove it, most recently to my best friend. He was a sexual harassment accusation waiting to happen, but he was my father's problem now.

A small smile pulled at my mouth as I replayed the moment I dropped my office keys at my father's feet and quit the pretense of employment at the company. He wanted Chad to take over the launch of the company's new line of vodka. Evie suggested we let Chad run the launch party as my father wanted, knowing he'd fail spectacularly. Apparently, despite taking away all my authority, my father still expected me to accept responsibility for Chad's failure.

There was only so much patience I had for my father's misogynistic bullshit. Starting over would be difficult, but less so for someone with my privileges. I knew it, but for now I was thankful not to have to worry about how I'd pay my bills while I was putting my life back together.

When I pressed the button for the elevator, the doorman watched me with a concerned scowl on his face. He started to move toward me, but one of my neighbors arrived just then pulling away his attention. It was a small favor. I didn't have it in me at the moment to make small talk with him. Snobby of me? Yes, but tonight I was allowed to lick my wounds. I'd try and be a better person tomorrow.

After an eternity spent on the elevator I hobbled down the plush carpeted hallway. My heels sank into the fibers, causing me to stumble more than once, but I stubbornly refused to take off my shoes.

I dug inside my small clutch for my keys. Once they were in hand, I tried to insert the key into the deadbolt. Over and over the key scratched against the metal lock but refused to go in.

After several tries, I had to step back and make sure I was in front of the right door. I exhaled and tried one more time before I was forced to admit defeat.

The trip down in the elevator seemed to take longer than on the way up. Every step I took made me more aware of the pinch of my designer heels. Knots developed in my shoulders, and a heavy fatigue pulled me down. Something bad was happening, but I couldn't get my brain to accept what my gut already knew.

"Mr. Jones, do you know why my key isn't working?" I asked the building's concierge in the lobby.

"Miss Easton, weren't you informed by your father that he took control over your residence?"

‘Stunned’ couldn't even begin to define my reaction. ‘Shocked’ was probably closer, but I didn't have words to exactly explain how I was feeling. "Can you repeat that?" I finally managed to ask.

"I'm sorry, Miss Easton, but your father had men come in and change the locks. He's the trustee of all your accounts, so we couldn't stop him."

He was right, so there was no point arguing. I stumbled back out to the street and sat down on a bench within sight of the door. I knew what I'd find when I checked my bank account, but I pulled up the app on my phone anyway. Sure enough, my checking account and savings account were frozen. I repeated the action with my credit cards, only to find the same result.

Maxwell Easton didn't waste any time. In less than an hour he'd had me locked out of my home, in the middle of the night, and made sure I didn't have a dime to my name to find a place to turn to. I'm sure he thought this action would send me running home spewing apologies and ready to accept the scraps of a life he deigned to give me.

He seriously underestimated the depth of my stubbornness. If anything, it made me more determined to forge my own path. Never would I humble myself at his feet when he only looked at me for what I could do for him.

Sitting there in the middle of the night wasn't a plan, but the need to stop standing in my shoes was too great.

I wasn't surprised when it began to rain. It was Seattle after all. My gown quickly absorbed the drops as they hit. Being late fall, the mist gave away to fat droplets that started falling steadily without sign of quitting.

The logical thing would have been to call Evie and see if I could spend the night at her place. I knew she'd do anything for me, as I would her. I couldn't though. Maybe it was my pride, but it was also respect for our friendship.

Things had only just started to turn around for her, and the last thing I wanted was for her to feel guilty for suggesting we let my cousin take over the ad campaign then quit. She had no idea how my father would retaliate. Frankly, neither had I.

My hair had been pinned up in a purposefully messy updo, but the rain was quickly making my long, blonde hair heavy. With trembling fingers, I pulled at the bobby pins until it fell in wet clumps around my shoulders. I tried to wipe some of the moisture from my face but only ended up smearing the mascara melting off my lashes.

"Is this what you do for fun now?" It was a voice I hadn't expected and would have been happy to never hear again. My luck was truly shit tonight.

"Hi, Malcolm," I said. My teeth were starting to chatter, and I knew I needed to get out of the rain soon before I ended up in the emergency room like Evie had a couple months ago when she left the opening of Malcolm's club.

That was the first time I'd seen him in nearly ten years. To say we hadn't parted on friendly terms would have been putting it mildly. I'd thought I was in love with him once, but my sixteen-year-old heart was naive. He played me into giving up my virginity and taught me my first adult life lesson: the heart is too precious to trust in another's hands.

---