Twenty-two
Austin
Back in San Francisco on Monday, I find myself once again anchored to a leather office chair, but my thoughts are still in Yosemite with Danica. Nothing like a great weekend to spoil your Monday. The boardroom feels stale compared to the crisp air of the mountains we left behind. I wonder how her interview at SHN is going. I should text her and find out.
“Mr. Sands?” The voice interrupts my thoughts, demanding attention. It belongs to a woman with a no-nonsense bob from the National Highway Traffic and Safety Administration, and she means business. “Did you catch that?”
“Sorry,” I mumble, straightening as I drag myself back to San Francisco, to EnergiFusion, to this glass-walled room on the fiftieth floor. “Could you repeat the last part?”
“Of course,” she says, not bothering to hide her impatience. “The fires have been traced back to batteries purchased from an EnergiFusion secondary supplier.”
My focus snaps into razor-sharp clarity, every trace of Danica evaporating. “Secondary supplier?” I feel a sudden spike of adrenaline. We don’t have any secondary suppliers.
“That’s what we need to clarify. Which one?” She arches an eyebrow, clearly expecting more than just my surprise.
“Right.” I nod, pressing my palms flat against the cool surface of the table. To my knowledge, we don’t have any, but I don’t want to tell her that and be wrong. Grantham has coached me well. “I’ll get the team to look into it.”
“I need that list today.” Her words are like a gavel coming down, with judgment delivered.
A cold handshake seals our conversation. “We’ll provide you with all the information we have,” I assure her, though I do not know what that might be.
Did I miss that we were using secondary suppliers? I mean, it could be possible. I was more involved with technology, not supply and distribution. That’s Rhys and Justin’s area.
I wander back to my office alone. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the cityscape outside suddenly too vast. My gaze loses focus on the glass, refracting back to something softer, warmer—Danica. How she laughed under the towering sequoias, how her eyes held a universe I’ve barely explored.
She never asks for a commitment. The words slipped off her tongue easily, and her reasoning seemed solid. At that moment, I’d thought, perfect . But now, there’s this gnawing discomfort in the pit of my stomach. The thought of someone else touching her, knowing her in the ways I now crave… It unsettles me. I’m not sure what that means or what to do about it.
My phone rings.
“Mom,” I answer, welcoming the distraction from everything else.
“Sweetheart, about that lot on the Potomac…” Her voice is brisk, businesslike, and I quickly catch up to her train of thought.
“Isn’t it a bit…grand for you, Mom?” I ask, imagining her wandering through the expansive house alone.
“It will only go up in value,” she counters, not really answering my question. “It’s a great investment. Homes along the shores of the Potomac River don’t go on the market often. Maybe one day you’ll want to live there, and you’ll meet a nice girl and start a family.”
I’m not moving back to the D.C. area. My job and work are here.
“How serious are you about this Danica girl?”
I hesitate. I suspect she’s looking for an opportunity to spoil anything I may be considering.
“We’re…enjoying our time together,” I offer. That’s easier than admitting how she’s flipped my world on its axis, how I need her to exist in a space beyond the reach of my mother’s scrutiny.
“Uh-huh.” Dismissal laces her tone, and I know we’re done here.
There’s a knock on my office door, and I wave Theo in.
“Let’s talk later, okay? Theo just walked in.”
“Of course, darling. Tell him I said hi. Take care.”
I hang up and slide the phone across my desk, out of my sight so I’m not distracted by it. Theo plants himself in the chair opposite mine.
“Hey.”
Theo’s eyes are shadowed, his face a map of concern that pulls at something in my chest. “I was with Crystal this weekend,” he says, and I brace myself for the kind of confession that will complicate an already tangled web of friendships. But he shakes his head quickly, dislodging the assumption. “Not like that. She’s just… She’s a wreck, Austin. Justin’s disappearance is hitting her hard.”
I nod. The weight of Justin’s empty chair hangs over EnergiFusion like a dark cloud, its shadow stretching down the corridor to his unlit office. “Has she heard anything new?” I ask.
“Nothing concrete. She thinks if they decide it’s foul play, she’ll be a suspect.”
“I think we’ll all be suspects.”
Theo runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration I’ve become all too familiar with these past few weeks. “It’s like he vanished into thin air.”
The urge to offer some reassurance nags at me, but platitudes feel hollow. Is he hiding? Instead, I pivot to the obvious. “I’m worried.”
Theo takes a deep breath. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“I think everyone is worried.” I look out at the view and then back to him. “I’m grateful you’re close to Crystal and can be there for her.”
He nods and stands again.
“Listen, there’s something else,” I tell him, scooting forward in my chair. “I met with a woman from the NHTSA a little while ago. She says the batteries that are catching fire are ours but coming from a secondary supplier.”
Theo looks almost comically confused. “But we don’t have secondary suppliers.”
“Okay, good. I didn’t think so.” I lean back, feeling the gravity of the situation settle between us. “We need to meet with Rhys, Grantham, Mason, and Jim Adelson,” I continue, ticking off the names on my fingers. “Figure out our next steps. This…” I wave my hand over the information she left behind. “This could be big, Theo. And not in a good way.”
“Damn,” he mutters. “What did you say when you she told you this?”
I look out my window to Berkeley. “I didn’t say a thing. Grantham wasn’t there, and I didn’t want to admit anything until we knew more.”
“Let’s get everyone together,” Theo says. “We need to figure this out.”
“Agreed.” I rise from my chair, wondering if this is the reason Justin is in hiding. What did he do? For a fleeting second, Danica’s face flits through my mind, along with my desire to talk to her about this, but I shove the thought aside. Right now, I need to focus. We may be without a leader, but that doesn’t mean we’re lost.
Theo stops in front of Mackenzie’s desk and asks her to see if everyone can join us for a working lunch.
“Grantham was in court this morning with another client and is sorry he missed the meeting with the NHTSA,” she says. “He has the private room at Waterbar reserved for dinner tonight and has included Mason and Jim Adelson.”
I look over at Theo to see if that works, and he nods. “I have a meeting this afternoon. That should be fine.”
“Perfect,” I say, looking at my watch. “And Rhys is aware?”
“Yes.” Mackenzie nods. She is a godsend.
I pull up Danica’s contact information.
Me: I hope your interview went great. I’ve ended up with a dinner meeting tonight. I’ll let you know what’s going on later.
Simple. Easy. But why did I tell her I had dinner plans? I never cared to tell anyone about my plans before.
She doesn’t respond, and I rationalize that she’s interviewing and not available.
I try to spend the afternoon digging out of my inbox, but I feel like things flood it faster than I can read them. And I know Mackenzie is getting rid of the stuff I don’t need to worry about.
My mind goes back to Danica and how much fun we had this weekend. For the first time, I had no desire to work or even think about work. I put it all out of my mind and enjoyed myself with her. I didn’t expect to have that much fun. I think I could have fun with Danica anywhere. I’m probably getting way ahead of myself.
At the end of the day, I’m the last to arrive at Waterbar. The others are already gathered, like a council of war generals in peacetime attire. I scan their faces for signs of distress, but they’re chatting about mundane things that couldn’t be further from our current predicament.
“Ah, Austin, you made it.” Rhys greets me as I take my seat. “Thought you got distracted again.”
“Almost,” I reply, forcing a grin.
The server is making his way around the table, and I quickly glance at the menu before he gets to me.
“Seafood risotto, please,” I tell him trying to focus on the chatter around me—plans for vacations, skiing in Tahoe, a beach getaway to Bali. I don’t know how they do it. It’s hard to care about holidays when there is so much going on.
We chat a little longer, and I tell them a bit about this past weekend in Yosemite. Then dinner arrives, a symphony of aromas that remind me I have a stomach. I forgot to eat today. But the scent of saffron and seafood anchored in creamy rice brings me back to the moment. Once everyone has their plates, conversation dwindles to appreciative murmurs.
“Okay, let’s get down to business,” I say after we’ve made some progress with our meals. I update them on this morning’s NHTSA meeting without preamble. “But we don’t have secondary suppliers,” I conclude. “At least not that I’m aware of.”
Rhys is already shaking his head, so I look at Mason. He met with Justin a lot, and if anyone here at the table would know something the rest of us don’t, he would.
But Mason shakes his head.
I clear my throat. “I suggest we put out a notice making sure the auto manufacturers understand that if they aren’t buying from us directly, they’re buying a counterfeit battery.”
“Agreed.” Theo nods, his brow furrowed.
“Good,” I say. “We’ll draft something tonight and have Whalley PR get it out first thing tomorrow.” My risotto cools as I speak, but right now, the safety of our batteries and our name is paramount.
“Let’s do it,” Rhys agrees. “We need to take back control of the narrative.”
“Damage control,” Mason muses, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Never thought we’d be here, but then, I suppose nobody does. I think it’s smart to notify customers, but we’ll really need the NHTSA’s investigation to conclude before we can issue a definitive report.”
“Well, this is a start.” I shrug, my thoughts briefly darting to Danica before snapping back to the present. There’s work to be done, reputations to salvage, and a company to steer through rough waters. We need to take action, even if it’s not the full solution we need.
“This is going to be a long process,” Mason adds. “Without direction, there’s no telling where we could end up. EnergiFusion needs to appoint a CEO.”
“I agree.” I exhale.
Rhys and Theo look at me. Titles are only that. The four of us always work as a unit.
“Look, EnergiFusion is a boat without a rudder right now,” Mason says firmly. “We need to pick a CEO to steer this ship properly.” His gaze pins each of us. “We’ll re-discuss if—or when—Justin comes back.”
“I was thinking Rhys,” I say as my blood pressure spikes.
“You met with the NHTSA, and you know the most about the battery issues,” Rhys says. “You’re the right person to be the face of the company.” His eyes meet mine, and then he turns to Theo, who gives a curt nod. It seems the decision has already been made.
“Seems like it should be you, Austin,” Theo says.
“And Whalley PR can get the word out. Make it official,” Mason says.
“ Interim CEO,” I correct as a storm of reluctance and duty wars within me. “Only until Justin returns. I want it clear in the announcement that Justin Capriotti is away, and I’m only doing this until he returns.”
“Of course,” Mason acknowledges, already pulling out his phone, no doubt to set the gears in motion.
The title feels heavy, unwanted. But I take a deep breath and accept the mantle. It’s what needs to be done for EnergiFusion, for the people whose livelihoods depend on us, for Justin. I nod, sealing my fate with a simple gesture. “All right. Let’s do this.”
As if on cue, Jim slides a single sheet of paper across the smooth surface of the table. “This is our preliminary report on Justin,” he says.
I pick up the page, which contains just a few lines of text. “That’s it?” I say, unable to hide my shock. “One page? After all this time?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Jim replies, resting his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers. “Justin’s gone under. Vanished. We’ve got nothing.”
“Nothing?” Rhys repeats incredulously, leaning forward to glance at the report.
“The police have been by again,” Mason adds, his expression grim. “They’re considering…other possibilities.”
“Other possibilities?” Theo sits up straight.
“They have nothing to pinpoint foul play,” Mason says. “But we can’t rule anything out.”
“There’s nothing actionable here, though, right?” I ask.
Jim shakes his head.
“So for now, let’s focus on what we can control— EnergiFusion getting through this mess.”
“Right,” Mason agrees with a nod. “We can deal with the rest as it comes.”
The room falls silent. I swirl the remnants of my drink, ice clinking against the glass.
Theo shakes his head. “Do you think Justin just ditched everything? Left us and Crystal without giving us a heads up? Went off to some tropical island to escape it all?”
“Checked,” Jim cuts in, his voice flat. “If he’s out there sipping margaritas under a palm tree, he’d been planning it for years. We see no evidence of that.”
But that scenario is the only thing I can hang on to. I have to, because anything else means he’s not on this Earth. I may not want him running the company, but I don’t want him dead either.
Justin and I were tight once, inseparable in both dreams and daily life. But then Crystal happened, weaving her way between us with the deftness of a seasoned puppeteer, a catalyst to our unraveling brotherhood. I’ve watched her pull strings, setting us dancing to tunes we barely recognized. A shiver of distaste runs through me, yet despite it all, I can’t shake the compassion that tugs at my heartstrings. I may not be crazy about Crystal, but we wouldn’t be here today without her, and I wouldn’t want anyone to be devastated the way she will be if what they’re saying is true.
As the meeting continues, we talk through a few items on our perpetual agenda, but we don’t get very far. Jim is going to do some research on our nonexistent secondary suppliers. And I’m the official interim CEO.
When our meeting concludes, I slide into the backseat of Steve’s sleek black car, the leather cool against my skin.
He adjusts the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes briefly. “Alamo Park?”
I haven’t been to the house in ages, but for some reason, that seems like the better option tonight, despite there being no Danica to keep me company.
“Please,” I confirm with a nod, my mind churning with the weight of my temporary title. CEO . The word plays on repeat in my head. I’ve been at the helm since Justin vanished, sure, but this makes it official, even if just for now.
“Congrats, by the way,” Steve says, pulling out into the San Francisco night. “Heard about the promotion.”
“Thanks.” I manage a smile, the kind that’s become second nature to cloak my true feelings. “Interim,” I remind him and myself. “Just until Justin gets back.”
“Right,” he replies, his tone suggesting he’s not fully convinced.
It’s still early. I could easily head over to the loft and spend the evening with Danica. We’ve spent nearly every night together over the last six weeks. Comfortable. Incredible. But I’m exhausted. I need a night to sleep and get a handle on things, right? A part of me longs to share all this with her, but I’m not sure I trust that instinct. I need time to sort this out. I pull out my phone, thumb hovering over Danica’s contact. I should tell her I won’t be with her tonight.
Me: I won’t make it to the loft tonight. Dinner tomorrow? Your choice of place.
It’s the truth, but not the whole truth. Yes, I need a decent night’s sleep, one that isn’t punctuated by the soft sounds of Danica shifting beside me or the warmth of her body disrupting my rest. But more than that, I need space. Space to grapple with the uncertainty of leadership, the void left by Justin, the silence of his darkened office.
“Everything all right?” Steve asks, glancing at me in the mirror again.
“Fine,” I say, locking the screen and leaning back. It’s a lie, but a necessary one. There’s no simple explanation for my disquiet or for the way my thoughts keep straying back to Danica—her laughter echoing off the granite walls of Yosemite, the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she loves.
“What time would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?” Steve asks, focusing back on the road.
“Six forty-five would be perfect.”
Minutes later, he pulls into the alley behind my house, and before I know it, the garage door is closed and I’m alone. This used to be my sanctuary. But despite what I thought I wanted and needed, without Danica at my side, I feel empty.