Page 45 of Jaxon

Ihad my car back. That was a good start. I made an appointment with the cheery sounding financial expert. Her office was about thirty minutes away. She'd cleared her schedule for me, as promised, which was good because I had a large plan in place for my dad's hidden treasure. I decided to keep up the farce and make up a good excuse to leave the house.

After the meeting with Alex this morning, Dad had spent the rest of the day in his office on the computer and making tense phone calls. It seemed my cunning Dad might have gotten in over his skis with this last development venture. I lifted my hand to knock, but Dad's angry tone made me pause.

"I told you I need those punks off that beach, Ivan. No, keep your weapons locked up. We don't need the press involved. Just use some good old-fashioned persuasion. Let 'em know that they are no longer welcome on Croft Beach, and make it hurt enough for them to listen."

I'd been so caught up in the horrid words he was saying, I hadn't realized he was walking toward the door. It flew open, and his brows dropped to a scowl. "Are you eavesdropping?" he asked sharply. "Not you, Ivan. Fuck. Just take care of this. What else do I pay you for?" He ended the call. "What are you doing, Bridget?"

"I was just about to knock when you opened the door. I wanted to let you know I'm going out."

His stern brow vanished. "Going where?" I hated the accusatory tone he was using, but I put on a mild smile.

"I don't have anything to wear to get married in this weekend. I thought I'd look around. I don't have any money—" I said innocently, knowing full well that was no longer the case.

"If you find something I'll have Barb buy it."

"So, you're still not going to give me even an allowance?"

"Once you've married Alex, you'll be well taken care of."

"Like a puppy or pet hamster. Nice." It was impossible keeping this conversation a hundred percent pleasant. "Anyway, I'm off, but one question—are you really sending Ivan and his crew in to beat up a bunch of kids who just want to surf?"

His mouth pulled tight. "So, you were eavesdropping."

"No, I just happened to reach your door while you were talking to Ivan. You know I couldn't give a shit about any of your business stuff, but really, why the hell can't they just surf until you start your development?"

"Like you said—my business doesn't interest you. Pick something proper … nottrashy." He swung the door shut in my face. I lifted my middle finger at the closed door before walking away. I pulled out my phone once I got into my car.

Jaxon answered. "Hope you're calling to tell me that you're lying naked in my bed right now waiting for me."

"Sorry, fully clothed and in my car. I wanted to let you know that Ivan and his buddies have permission from my dad to beat up any surfers who trespass on his beach. Is your brother there today?"

"Shit, he might be. He was supposed to work, but the job got cancelled. I'll call him. Now, about the first part of the call?—"

A blush covered my entire body. "I'll see if I can make that happen tonight. But Jax, call your brother. Ivan and his friends are vicious, and they spend a lot of time staring at themselves in the mirror while they pump iron."

"Usually those guys are all beef with nothing behind it, but thanks for giving me the heads-up. I'll call Crusoe now. See you later—preferably naked."

I shook my head as I ended the call. I typed the financial office address into my phone and started the map. Before I pulled out of the garage, I checked my bank account. Yep, I was still rich. Perfect.

The Serendipity office was in the corner of a small strip mall. They had a nice, shiny sign hanging over their tinted windows. They were the only shop in the mall with a renovated, new feel. I walked inside and was immediately greeted by a woman who had pink streaks in her hair and a matching pink business suit. The walls were decorated with portraits of famous women like Amelia Earhart and Harriet Tubman. There was a motto about "helping women fly" painted on a wall that had small potted ferns growing out of ceramic pots.

"Bridget?" the woman asked as she walked toward me on rubber soled shoes.

"Yes, Eve?"

"Yes, Eve Everson. What can I get you? Water, tea, Kombucha?"

"I'm fine, thanks." We walked to a desk that had a stick of incense burning. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger to put it out. "Sorry. I had a piece of fish for lunch, and I can't seem to get rid of the smell. Please, have a seat."

We sat down, she clicked a few things on her keyboard and then folded her hands on her desk. "First of all—thank you so much for giving Serendipity a chance. My partner, Gerry and I, have been working hard to line up potential clients, but it's not easy. We're not exactly traditional, but we're really hoping our progressive business plan will make women feel more welcome than in the traditional firms."

"Absolutely. I think it's a great idea."

She opened a file folder, then looked at me. "So, your dad moved his liquid assets to your account—possibly to hide them?" She waved her hand. "I don't mean to pry. It's just rather a lot of money."

"Yes, isn't it? And I don't know the specifics, but you're right. I have no idea what he's up to, but he apparently thought since he'd left me penniless for the last year or so that I'd never find the money because I never bothered to look at my account."

"I'm sorry, but your father is extremely wealthy, and he left you penniless?"

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