Page 25 of Titus

I smiled.

This was going to be enjoyable.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Moving into a new office was supposed to feel like progress, growth, and elevation. Instead, it felt like controlled chaos tied together by expensive square footage. For now, anyway.

“Those don’t go there,” I said, stepping off the elevator into what would soon be the operational nerve center of Veléz Global. “They go on the west wall. Natural light hits it better after two in the afternoon.”

“We staged them there temporarily until the west wall was finished,” Aria answered.

“Move them once it’s clear.”

The space itself was exactly what I’d envisioned, with floor-to-ceiling glass, clean architectural lines, and enough light to make every event we designed feel larger than life. Breanne Grayson had somehow translated everything in my head into reality.

Now all that remained were the final details.

“Aria,” I called back out to my design lead.

“Yeah?” she answered, busy with one of the arrangements that were just delivered.

“If I see one more placement arrangement in here, I’m sending you back to Melrose with Garfield.”

She gasped dramatically from somewhere behind a mountain of floral samples. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” I glanced over my shoulder, offered her a smile and a wink.

“I hate it here,” she muttered.

“You love it,” I shot back without looking at her.

“I hate that I love it.”

“That’s growth.”

Marcus stood near the far wall, already recalibrating the lighting panels as if the building itself had personally offended him.

“The overheads are off by half a degree,” he said.

“Fix it then,” I replied.

“Already am.”

Of course he was… it was Marcus. According to that man, everything was always off by a half or a quarter of a degree. I smiled with pride and love for my technical production designer.

Jules crossed the space with a tablet in hand, calm as ever, completely unfazed by the storm of boxes and cables and by Aria’s emotional attachment to a stray cat she’d said goodbye to at least fifty times before we left the Melrose office this morning.

“Vendors are asking for updated routing,” Jules said. “They’re confused by the new access points.”

“They’re not confused,” I corrected. “They’re lazy. Send them the revised map and tell them to adjust.”

He smiled faintly. “Already did.”

That’s why I appreciated having Jules as my VP of Guest Relations. He observed every detail and guided everyone to ensure a seamless process. His presence on move-in day contributed to an easier transition than expected.

But this was how we always operated, flowing naturally together, making this as seamless as orchestrating any other billionaire event. We were masters at taking chaos and making it behave.

“All right. I expect that in thirty minutes,” I said, setting my bag down on what would soon be my desk. “Then I want this place running like we’ve been here for a year.”