Page 24 of One Rule
He's overseeing the installation of the new top deck pool area for Esmeralda. She’s his baby at the moment, a complete redesign of the style his family’s cruise line is known for, and while I’m dying to have him back at the office, I’m proud of him. Excited to see the final product after getting a glimpse from a folder on his desk.
“You scared me, Mr. Weber. Of course. Please follow me to my office,” I say, gripping both items while waving my empty hand toward my door.
“My apologies, Miss—”
“It’s Liliana, please.”
“Of course, Liliana. Lead the way.” A huff comes from behind him and I take a quick look, finding a petulant Beverly. She’s holding a file and iPad, but before I can address her, Mr. Weber is giving her a look I’ve never seen the older man give anyone. “Do you have a problem, Miss Mills?”
“No, sir.” It’s grit out.
He doesn’t say anything else to her, but I catch the glare before he turns and gives me a smile. It’s warm and kind of reminds me of the ones my abuelo gave me before passing away. “Please lead the way, Liliana.”
Giving them a nod, I lead them away from the kitchenette and toward my domain. My computers are running at the moment. I’m giving our system an extra malware scan to make sure nothing has been tampered with since our last scheduled testing. Big companies like these are always at risk; the most minute oversight could cost the Royce’s millions, and that’s something I won’t allow.
Am I doing this outside of my department’s knowledge? Yes.
Do I trust everyone in this company? No.
Something isn’t right, and after the attempted robbery in Micah’s stateroom, I’m keeping a tighter watch on things. I don’t care what the head of the IT department thinks.
Once inside my office, they take a seat across from me. Mr. Weber is polite and asks for permission to spread his report across my desk, and while I nod, I take note of how Beverly stares at the large monitor behind me. It’s a new addition, brought in and installed by me without permission to run multiple channels at once. That one is going through the backup server now, a private program I’ve been using in conjunction with ours.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Look at this line, Liliana.” They speak in unison with the latter sending her another disgruntled glower, but I don’t pay her question any attention. Her saltiness isn’t a concern for me.I’ll keep an eye on her, though. That tone and the sudden flash of anger are about more than just losing her position. “There’s been an elevation in unauthorized overtime that I want Mr. Royce to be made aware of.”
“Of course, Mr. Webber. Show me, and I’ll make sure he becomes aware of the situation.”
“And how is Captain Grumps these days?”Mom raises her brow at that while I prepare myself for what’s coming. She’s the only one outside of my cousin Bernice that knows of my feelings for Micah, from my crush to my love and every moment in between, except for our one and only kiss. And while she isn’t around as much now, something I don’t begrudge her, we still catch up once a week and he’s always a large chunk of that conversation.
“Captain Grumpsis fine. Being a little dictator here and there, but fine.” Just like his nickname for me has stuck over the years, mine for him has too. At least for me and Mom and Bernice. She gets a kick out of using the code word—never in front of him—while I let her have her fun.
“By the way, I heard you got a promotion.”
At that, I raise a brow, my lips pursing. “How doyouknow that?”
Mom shrugs while taking a quick peek at her smartwatch before meeting my eyes again. “There’s been some talk.”
“Talk? About?”
“Your father wants your help with some pre-campaign groundwork, but Lionel told him no.” That surprises me. My brother isn’t one to go against our father, not unless there’s a good reason. “He called me to join forces, too.”
“And why is everyone discussing this without consulting me?” As soon as I finish my question, the conveyor belt begins to move. Luggage from her flight starts coming through, tumbling down, and I recognize her hard-shell floral ones immediately, gripping them and yanking the two off. They’re both all-wheel spinners and with ease I turn them, maneuvering us through the claim area and down the elevator to the level that connects with parking.
“Holy moly.” She exclaims the second we walk outside, fanning herself while ignoring my question. I get it, though. The heat this year has been brutal thus far. “Que calor, Mamita.”
“I know. And they say it’s only going to get worse.”
“Hopefully we stay hurricane free this year.”
“Cross your fingers.” I’m parked near the entrance, and it takes mere minutes to get in and complain about how hot the all-black leather seats are before heading out and taking the exit out of Miami International. We’re heading toward my father’s real house, not the mayoral mansion he occupies during the week as part of the illusion and position.
Wonder why he asked to have dinner at home, though?
“Lili, we didn’t mention anything because we’d rather save you the frustration and then the argument that’ll follow. To be honest, baby, that man is so clueless sometimes. Your dad’s not a bad man, loves you guys dearly, but his tunnel vision is his biggest downfall.” There’s a hint of annoyance in her tone, and it’s not weather-related. From the corner of my eyes, I look over and catch her shaking her head. Mom’s expression is a bit complicated, wistful yet longing. “He forgets that this family is now full of adults with their own lives and we’re no longer his staff.”
“That’s mean, Mom.”