Was it my showing up before she even arrived at the office? I’m leaning my left shoulder against the wall with my right ankle crossed over my left and my right hand in my pocket.
“Guten Morgen, Herr Diaz.” Good morning, Mr. Diaz.
“Wir müssen über Ihr anhaltendes Problem mit der Vertraulichkeit sprechen.” We need to speak about your ongoing problem with confidentiality.
The only accent I have when I speak German is German. It shocks the shit out of her.
Of course, someone in my family speaks the language of a country where we do frequent business. I speak French and German, just likeTíoEnrique. Joaquin speaks Mandarin, Vietnamese, and Cambodian. Javier speaks Japanese andKorean.TíoLuis and Alejandro speak Brazilian Portuguese and regular Portuguese. Pablo speaks Russian and Italian. Since we’ve all lived in New York or just outside the city in New Jersey, we even have healthy doses of Yiddish.
We’re all native Spanish speakers. Only Pablo and Alejandro grew up in the States. The rest of us came from Colombia at varying ages from teen to adult. A Spanish accent flavors everyone’s English—when we allow it.
“Speaking German with a voice like a foghorn certainly won’t help.”
Liesel practically hisses at me. I don’t think I spoke that loudly, but she glances at the employees walking over from the elevator. I reach past her and open the office suite’s door, holding it for her. She heads straight to her office, unlocking it with a code she shields me from seeing. I shut the door behind me as she whirls around.
“Did you hack my calendar?”
So, we’re going there, are we?
“That’s quite the accusation.”
“That’s not a denial. That’s a diversion. Did you?”
“You assume I took my mother to dinner to spy on you.”
“Silence is consent, so I will take your evasiveness as an admittance.”
“If I wanted to spy on you, Liesel, I wouldn’t sit out in the open. I also wouldn’t be halfway through my meal when you arrived.”
I wasn’t spying. I was watching in plain sight. And it was her fault we were halfway through our meal because she was late.
“And it was fate that we had tables next to each other.”
“It was.” Not bending the truth on that.
I walk closer, and she moves to put the desk between us. I cock an eyebrow. Her scowl eases as she silently admits she knows I’m not a physical threat.
“If anyone should be lobbing accusations, it should be me toward you for corporate espionage.”
“Espionage? That’s outrageous. What do I stand to gain from your family walking away? I don’t consider my professional reputation and that of my family’s firm being ground into the dirt a gain.”
“You may worry about your professional reputation, but your father doesn’t. At the very least, he should care about the company’s.”
I watch that strike between the eyes. She practically jerks back but catches herself. I practically crumble into ash from the way she’s glaring at me. But I shall always be a phoenix—even if it’s my older brother who’s named Joaquin.
“This company has been around since long before you and I were born. It’s doing just fine without you or your family.”
“For now.”
“Are you threatening me, Jorge?”
The way she says my name. She tries for condescending, but I take it as a challenge.
“Liesel—”
“That’s not my name.”
“Liesel—”
