Chapter 14
Fourteen
The rest of the week passes in a blur. I stay late Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, scrambling to finish all the projects I’ve been assigned before heading to London. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s unfinished work.
By Friday, my brain feels like it’s running on fumes. But I still end up checking my phone more than I’d like to admit. Theo doesn’t reply to me until Friday morning.
Theo
Sorry for the radio silence. Tuesday’s site visit to Vortex Rise didn’t go well. Fill you in later. Promise. What’s your news?
My heart sinks as I stare at the screen. Vortex Rise has been a nightmare for him from day one, but for Theo, the words didn’t go well are the equivalent of a five-alarm fire.
The most telling part isn’t even the words—it’s the timing. Theo’s phone is normally an extension of his body. If he hasn’t touched it since Tuesday, he’s been in the trenches, fighting a losing battle against deadlines and gravity.
I read the message twice, my thumb hovering over the screen. This is it. This is the moment to tell him. I’m the support staff. I’m coming to help you.
It could be the win he needs. But a cold knot of doubt tightens in my stomach. What if he sees it as a pity move? Or worse, what if he thinks I’m just a junior engineer he now has to babysit while his project is literally falling apart?
I read the message another two times. Chickening out, I settle on putting it off a bit longer.
Kaori
Tell you all about it this weekend.
On Saturday, just before I make it past security at the Orlando airport, I recognize the familiar face of Kenta Sato, one of the security officers who’s been assigned to me in the past. Dressed in jeans and a nondescript army-green jacket, he looks more like a travel-weary tourist than a royal bodyguard, which is exactly the point.
“Your Imperial Highness,” he greets me quietly with a bow.
“Good to see you again, Sato-san,” I reply, managing a tired smile. “You drew the short straw, huh?”
“It’s always an honor to serve your family, Princess.” He bows again, though I notice him tugging at the hem of his jacket. He’s a man who clearly feels more at home in a crisp suit than in casual wear, and I appreciate the sacrifice he’s making to play the part of a civilian.
He steps a fraction closer and presses a device no larger than a key fob into my palm. “Your new panic button. I’ll be nearby, but unless you need me, you won’t notice I’m here. Yamada-san will meet us in London. He’ll take mornings. I’ll cover evenings.”
I nod, slipping the small device into the side pocket of my tote. “Thank you, Sato-san. I don’t expect to need it, but it’s good to know you’re here.”
“That’s the idea. Have a safe flight, Your Highness.” Before Leon arrives from the gate-side café, Sato-san gives a polite nod and murmurs, “I’ll see you on the other side,” before melting back into the crowd.
With a coffee in hand, Leon yawns and drops into the plastic seat beside me. “Leave it to the travel office to book us only the earliest flight humanly possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if Theo requested it so he could put us straight to work.”
I stifle a laugh. “He wouldn’t do that. I’m sure he’ll give us a day to adjust to the jet lag.”
Leon snorts. “You just wait, Minami. The Orlando Riverton is going to seem like sunshine and roses compared to the bear you’ll meet across the pond.”
My brows knit together. “Why?”
“I forget you’ve only been with us two months.” Leon settles back in his chair, lowering his voice as the boarding area buzzes with travelers repacking bags and hunting for charging ports. He leans in, his expression turning uncharacteristically grim. “Two words—Theo’s father.”
I frown, my mind racing to connect the dots. I know he and his father aren’t close. His grandmother raised him. But that’s about all I know. He’s been incredibly tight-lipped every time it’s come up. “You’ll have to fill in a few more blanks for me, Leon. I’m missing a chapter.”
“Does the name Cuthbert Harris ring any bells?”
“Oh. Oh.” My mouth falls open as the realization clicks into place. “Emperor Palpatine is that Mr. Harris? The COO?”
“The one and only,” Leon mutters.
“But they have different last names. I just assumed . . .”
“Everyone always assumes. Theo took his mother’s name after the divorce.
Probably the only way he could breathe without being in the old man’s shadow.
But in London? At HQ? There’s no hiding it.
Mr. Harris treats him like a personal project he’s waiting to see fail, and the poor kid works himself into the ground just to prove he won’t. ”
I lean back against the hard airport chair, the bustle of the terminal fading into a dull hum. Suddenly, Theo’s volatile moods and dropping everything to please Mr. Harris makes heartbreaking sense.
“He really is a Luke Skywalker,” I murmur, the comparison feeling more apt by the second.
“He is,” Leon agrees, staring into the depths of his coffee cup.
“Harris has never given him an ounce of special treatment. In fact, he’s made his life hell.
Theo had to apply to work here just like you and me.
He started in the trenches and worked his way up.
Half the company had no idea who his father was until he was named the head of the Orlando office last year.
Every move he’s made has been through his own hard work and merit.
It’s one of the reasons I respect him; Theo is brilliant.
He could’ve gone anywhere. Instead, he chose to prove himself under the harshest possible conditions. ”
“Why would he put himself through all that?”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Leon says, checking his watch as our boarding group is called.
“I’ve probably shared more than I should already.
Just . . . keep your eyes open when we get to South Bank.
It’ll be like entering the Death Star. Harris will be looking to crush any sort of rebellion Theo’s people bring. ”
The pieces of the puzzle are finally beginning to click together. His entire life, he’s been chasing a bar set impossibly high by a man who is probably incapable of giving praise.
“How did you and Theo get so close?” I ask.
“When Theo started in London, the dad in me had a hard time stomaching how Mr. Harris treated him. Everybody else was afraid to get too close. They couldn’t figure out why he was such an A-hole to him. The kid needed to know he had somebody in his corner. So . . .”
“You adopted him?” I guess. “Like you’ve adopted me, Andy, Derrick, Ted, and pretty much the whole office?”
“More or less.” Leon pauses as we reach the door of the plane, then glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes turning uncharacteristically sharp. “While we’re on the subject . . . I’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately. On and off the clock.”
“Um . . .”
“Minami,” he says, holding up a hand to cut off my sputtering.
“You don’t have to explain. I couldn’t care less about the HR handbook.
Rules are meant to be broken—we’re the Light Side, remember?
We’re supposed to be a bit rebellious. The way I see it, Theo deserves to have a bright firefly in his life. Just try not to burn him out.”
I laugh, shaking my head even as my face heats up. “You’re ridiculous, Leon. Truly.”
“Maybe,” he says, stepping into the cabin and handing his boarding pass to the flight attendant. “But I’m not wrong.”
I roll my eyes, grabbing my carry-on and falling into step beside him.
I lean into the Star Wars analogy. If Harris is the Emperor and HQ is the Death Star, then what does that make me?
I’m not exactly a Jedi, and I definitely don’t have a lightsaber. I’m just a junior engineer with a hidden title and a panic button in her pocket.
But as I sink into my seat, I realize Leon is right about one thing—The rebellion has to start somewhere.
I promise myself I’ll sleep on the flight. I don’t. Between the hum of the engines and my restless thoughts, I spend most of the night staring out the window, watching the clouds fade into dawn over the Atlantic. When the plane finally touches down at Heathrow, I’m equal parts wired and exhausted.
It hits me once we’ve cleared customs and collected our luggage that I’ll be seeing Theo very, very soon. And while I hope he’ll be happy to see me, it also wouldn’t surprise me if I’m greeted by anger first because he’ll be stressed and I’m not the senior engineer he asked for.
“I can’t wait to shower and crawl into bed,” I say to Leon as we make a pit stop at the restrooms near the Underground entrance for the Elizabeth Line. “My body feels like it’s operating in three different time zones at once.”
“That sounds like the perfect plan, only I’m stopping by the nearest pub for some dinner first.”
“You didn’t eat on the plane?”
“I did,” Leon says, “but dinner was hours ago, and that skimpy yogurt-and-fruit cup they called breakfast didn’t cut it. I can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
I laugh, adjusting my tote. For a second, I scan the crowd, wondering if I’ll catch a glimpse of Yamada-san.
Leon unlocks his phone, scrolling through emails. “Looks like we’re booked into the St. George in Mayfair. That’s a nice place. Five-star hotel—” He breaks off mid-sentence, frowning.
“What’s wrong? Did the travel office mess up and only book us one room?
” If that’s the case, I don’t care what it costs, I’ll book my own room.
Leon is the best work dad I could have, but I draw the line at sharing a sleeping space.
His snore is legendary. Office lore says it sounds like a diesel engine trying to turn over in a blizzard.
There isn’t enough jet-lag-induced exhaustion in the world to make me okay with that.
“No. Worse.” His thumbs start flying across the screen. “Theo wants us at the office. Now.”
“On a Sunday? After a ten-hour flight?” I blink, waiting for a punchline, but it never comes.