Twenty-six
Austin
I slide out of Danica’s bed, the cool morning air raising goose bumps on my skin. Despite our hiccup when she discovered the true nature of my work a couple weeks ago, this has become my routine, waking in her embrace, and it’s a comfort I’ve grown to crave. As I tiptoe around her clothes scattered across the floor, I smile. Her presence has filled gaps in my life I didn’t even realize were there.
The upcoming EnergiFusion anniversary party looms large in my mind. It’s been five years since our first EV battery rolled off the line—a big milestone for us. We’ve been a business for nearly ten years, and while I can’t believe how far we’ve come, it feels wrong to celebrate these milestones without Justin. But Mom is flying in for the week, and Danica will be there too, mingling with my colleagues and friends. The thought both excites and unnerves me. Introducing her to Mom feels like a step, a statement that things between us are serious, more serious than we’ve admitted out loud. And it also means Mom may start working her unwelcome magic. I need to warn Danica about that.
Back across the hall at my place, I slip on my running gear and hit the treadmill. The rhythmic thud of my feet against the belt is soothing, a meditation of movement as I clock mile after mile. The morning news flickers on the screen in front of me, an ever-present hum until a particular story snatches my attention.
“Breaking news: A self-driving car delivering food has burst into flames in the heart of New York City,” the anchor announces, an image of the burning wreckage behind him. “Preliminary reports suggest another EnergiFusion battery failure.”
My heartbeat spikes with a surge of adrenaline. That’s impossible. We don’t even make batteries for that kind of vehicle. Damn you, NHTSA . If they’d finish their report and release their findings, which have to be that these defective batteries are not our products, no matter what their labels say, we could take real steps toward clearing our name. But without their confirmation, it’s just our word against what seem to be the facts. Here we go again, though, I suppose. We have to at least try to give people the information they need. Anger and frustration fuel my strides as I push the speed on the treadmill higher, running as if I can outrun the spread of misinformation.
By the time I finish, I’m drenched in sweat and my mind is racing faster than my pulse. I take the quickest shower I’ve ever had, all too aware that this fire isn’t just a literal one. I’ve got to help put out the public relations inferno that’s sure to ignite.
“There goes my day,” I mutter as I dress, grabbing my phone and keys before heading out the door. The office won’t know what hit it.
Steve drives as I lean back against the leather seat, trying to appear unfazed. But my mental list of things to do is growing long.
Security , I think—the price of visibility and success. Theo, Rhys, and Crystal have all beefed up their personal security, but I’ve always prided myself on keeping a low profile, letting EnergiFusion’s achievements speak for themselves. Danica has been photographed with me, though, so maybe I should have security cover her. With everyone’s nerves frayed, my anonymity feels like a thin veil.
Mason’s call interrupts my spiraling thoughts. I snatch the phone before the first ring can finish.
“Hey,” I start, but Mason’s brisk tone bulldozes through any pleasantries.
“They’re sending out corrections now,” he says. “The media’s got it wrong It’s not our battery.”
“Of course it’s not. And they should already know that.” I sigh. “But once the story’s out there…”
“Yeah,” he agrees grimly. “We’ll get retractions, but you know how it goes. First impressions stick.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mason. I wish the NHTSA would release their report saying there are EnergiFusion counterfeits on the market.”
“It’s the government. They move at their own speed.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything, and I’ll keep you posted.” I end the call, the seed of dread already taking root. In this digital age, misinformation spreads like wildfire, and EnergiFusion’s reputation is tinder in the wind.
I’m barely into the office when Theo and Rhys greet me with grim faces. They’re huddled over laptops, their eyes reflecting the blue light of crisis management. We exchange a look that conveys volumes. Today will be a siege. We migrate to a conference room, making it our war room as we strategize together.
Whalley PR has gotten me interviews with several of the newswires, and they’ve created a statement for me to read as each asks me about the fire. It reminds them that we believe the batteries involved in the other fires to be counterfeit and further explains that we don’t make a product that works for the particular vehicle in the latest incident. So it could also be a counterfeit, or if it was our battery, they had to have played with it, voiding the safety protections and warranty, to make it fit. From there I can proceed into as many of the technology details as they want, but it gets very technical.
I go through the material several times with different news outlets, and while it feels good to explain the truth, I haven’t even started on all the other things I need to do. Grantham is due to my office any minute, and we’re going to touch base on the status of the NHTSA’s report, which has still not materialized. After today’s fire, it’s even more urgent that we get official word from them to clear our name.
I drum an impatient rhythm on the conference table. I look out the window for a moment, and when I look back, Grantham leans against the doorframe, as if he materialized from nowhere. “Inside source says the NHTSA has hit a wall—can’t replicate the fire,” he murmurs, almost as if the walls themselves are eavesdropping.
Rhys shifts in his chair, and Theo’s frown deepens, mirroring my own frustration. This is great, except that if they won’t say as much, it does us no good.
Mason, never one to hide his irritation, throws up his hands. “Call Kelly,” he suggests—or more like commands. “We can’t sit here and let them stonewall us.”
Brian Kelly, the head of the NHTSA, seems to have no problem going in front of the cameras to crucify us, but he won’t talk to us directly, and it seems Mason has had it.
I nod. It’s the logical step. Grantham straightens, agreement written all over his face. After a brief further conference, we have a plan. I call Harrison in the lab and ask him to bring the team upstairs.
Mackenzie joins us as well. Once we’re seated, she dials the number we all know by heart now, and Brian Kelly’s assistant answers. I’m not surprised when she puts us on hold. Grantham warned us about this kind of maneuvering.
“Power play,” Rhys mutters under his breath, echoing Grantham’s earlier words.
When the assistant comes back, claiming to be looking for Brian, I can’t help but snort. Two minutes to return, and now a wild goose chase? They’re really laying it on thick.
“Typical,” Theo mutters, crossing his arms.
Grantham’s phone is out on the table, positioned to record the call. His eyes meet mine, a silent reminder that every word counts. I force my body to relax, practicing the calm I’m far from feeling.
Stay cool , I remind myself. This isn’t about me, it’s about EnergiFusion, our future teetering on the edge of a blade wielded by bureaucrats.
Minutes drag on like hours, and finally, there’s a click. “Hello. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Brian Kelly’s voice fills the room.
My grip tightens on the armrests. Fifteen minutes. Asshole. “Hi, Brian. This is Austin Sands from EnergiFusion.” I take a breath, letting it out slowly to cool the simmering frustration. “We’re concerned about the delay on the report from the NHTSA regarding our battery fires. Our lab hasn’t been able to replicate the issue, and we’re wondering if perhaps yours hasn’t either?”
“That’s incorrect,” Brian snaps, brusquely. “We’ve successfully reproduced the incidents several times.”
“Can you share any details on that? We’d love to make progress on correcting the situation. This delay is hitting us hard.” My voice remains even, each word measured, despite the urge to mirror his hostility.
“Details will be in the final report. We’re not under any deadline, Sands. You’ll get it when it’s ready.”
“Understood, but this delay is significantly affecting our business operations. As you know, we believe the batteries in question to be counterfeit, not even products we created, so getting confirmation on that would be tremendously helpful.”
“Frankly, that’s not my problem.” The disdain in his tone is tangible. “Is that all you need?”
“Ah, well, I’d also like to verify that you know the EV battery involved in the fire in New York City today wasn’t made by EnergiFusion.”
He practically scoffs. “Yes, I saw you interviewed earlier. But we both know you were lying.”
My pulse quickens. “We don’t work with that vehicle manufacturer.” I take a deep breath and try not to scream at the son of bitch. “Each electric-vehicle battery needs to be made specifically for a car model. No EV battery is one size fits all.”
“But we know EnergiFusion has a secondary company working in the sub markets.”
I look across the table at Rhys, Theo, and Grantham. They seem as confused as me. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re still looking for the connection, and we’ll find it. Or you could make it easier on everyone and just tell us.”
I shake my head and carefully control my anger. “I truly don’t know what you’re talking about. We do not have any sort of secondary company, and if you go to the press with those lies, we will sue you.”
“You can threaten me all you want, but we’re close, and once we have that information, we’re not only going to shutter EnergiFusion, we’re also going to put you and your partners in jail. These fires have killed people. You can’t make a faulty battery and get away with it.”
I clear my throat. “We look forward to seeing your proof. Thank you for your time, Brian.” I manage a polite tone, but the moment I press end call , the mask drops. “First-class asshole,” I mutter, and around me, heads nod in silent agreement.
Across the conference table, Mason’s eyes are sharp, practical. “We can’t move anything forward here, but we should reach out to other suppliers,” he suggests, his hands folded neatly on the glossy surface. “Our customers are going to these secondary sellers—whoever they are—because we’re missing deadlines. We have to find a way to get more sodium-ion cells so we can keep our products flowing into the market. We should explore alternative sources for sodium ion and aluminum. Maloney Chemical is proving unreliable, so we need to keep pushing on all fronts.”
“Agreed.” I nod, rising from my seat. “We’re on it.” The others take this as their cue, gathering their notepads and tablets, but Grantham remains seated, his gaze distant, analytical.
“Everyone, good work today. Let’s keep at it,” I say, ushering Rhys, Theo, and Mason toward the door. The teams also file out with murmurs of assent.
Once the door clicks shut behind them, only Grantham and I remain. He steeples his fingers in front of him. “Something doesn’t add up with Kelly,” he muses aloud. “Is it about Justin’s disappearance, or is there more?” His eyes meet mine. “Political appointments like his... They’re always angling for the next big thing. If he can tank EnergiFusion, maybe he thinks he’s got a shot at climbing higher.”
“Could be,” I admit, rubbing the stubble on my chin. “We need to know what we’re up against.”
“I’ll have someone dig into it, find out what’s driving his delay tactics. I know they don’t have anything about a secondary company.” Grantham’s tone is decisive, the words of a man who knows how to play this game—a battle of wits and wills.
I shake my head. “We don’t have enough sodium ion to fill the orders we have, let alone to start a secondary company.”
“He’s talking out of his ass,” Grantham assures me. “Today’s fire gave him another excuse to delay. We’ll keep the pressure on him.”
“Thanks, Grantham.” I’m so grateful he’s on top of this. With one last look at the chessboard our conference room has become, I turn and stride out.
“Hey, boss.” Mackenzie seems to have been hovering nearby. Her hand is gentle on my shoulder. “Your mom’s plane just landed. You need to go.”
“Right,” I say, glancing at the clock on the wall. I should’ve been on my way ten minutes ago. Steve is waiting downstairs. I can’t believe all this has sucked up the entire day.
“Keep me in the loop,” I tell the others in the office, my mind already racing ahead to the airport.
“Will do,” Rhys calls after me.
The drive to the airport is a series of phone calls, each one a juggling act of reassurances and directives. By the time we pull up, my mother is standing at the curb, patiently waiting.
“Mom…” I begin as I exit the car, but she cuts me off.
“Next time, I can manage on my own.” There’s a hint of reproach in her eyes, but it’s softened by her smile.
“Never,” I respond firmly. Her features soften further. “I love these moments alone with you.”
Her arms open, and I step into her embrace, finding a moment of respite in her warmth. In her hold, the weight of the world lifts, and I remember why every battle is worth fighting.
We make our way back into the City, and Mom sits beside me, her posture rigid, a telltale sign of brewing questions.
“Tell me about the anniversary party,” she prods, her gaze fixed on a passing trolley.
“Big milestone for EnergiFusion,” I say. “Five years since the first battery rolled off the line. There’ll be quite the celebration.”
“And Danica will join you?”
The temperature in the car seems to drop a few degrees. “Yeah, she will.” My fingers ball into a fist. “Mom, be nice to her.”
“I’m always nice.” She turns to face me. “This sounds like it’s serious.”
I glance at her. “I like her a lot. We’ve been spending most nights together.”
“You’ve been together for a few months. That’s different for you. Are you planning on marrying her?” Her tone is casual, but she’s not.
“We haven’t discussed it,” I deflect, feeling the walls closing in.
“That’s not really an answer, is it?” She has me cornered.
But, as if on cue, Steve turns down the alley for my house on Alamo Square Park and the garage door opens, offering me a temporary reprieve.
“Here we are,” I announce eagerly.
Steve and I carry Mom’s luggage in as she sits on the couch. When I get her things up to the guest room, she trails her fingers along the back of the sofa. “Will Danica be staying here while I’m in town?”
“Uh, we don’t really plan things like that. They just happen,” I mutter, avoiding her gaze as I toss the keys onto the entryway table. I haven’t brought Danica here. Not because I don’t want her to see the house, but because I usually can’t wait to get her underneath me, and we start at the lofts.
“I’d prefer if it were just the two of us,” Mom states plainly, leaving no room for argument.
That bothers me—a bit more than I want to admit—but before I can respond, she’s on to another topic. “Did you hear they didn’t accept our offer for the house on the Potomac?”
“Seventy-three hundred square feet is too big for you anyway,” I remind her gently, trying to steer her away from disappointment.
She sighs but quickly recovers, her thoughts shifting gears again. “Is Danica joining us for dinner tonight?”
“No, she has plans,” I say, seizing the chance to make her happy. “I thought it would be nice for us to go to Quince, just you and me.”
“Quince?” Her face brightens instantly. “Oh, Austin, I’d love that.”
As she settles in, I continue the delicate dance of our conversation, dodging, weaving, stepping carefully around each other’s feelings. It’s exhausting, but it’s also the rhythm of our relationship, one we’ve perfected over the years.
I excuse myself when my phone rings, encouraging her to get ready, and I step into my home office to deal with more questions about the car fire in New York City. There’s talk that I might have to go to New York, but I’m trying to resist. We have a party this weekend, for God’s sake. It isn’t our battery. We didn’t make it, so we can’t be involved. I’ve just hung up when my phone pings, alerting me that Steve is out front ready to leave for dinner.
I walk back to the guest room and peek my head in. “Are you ready?”
Mom snaps an earring on. “Yes. I’m starved.”
“I think you’ll enjoy the menu tonight.”
I talk to Rhys and Theo as we drive over while Mom stares out the window.
A little while later, we are seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant and our meals have arrived. I know Mom would prefer to be in the middle, so she can see and be seen, but I don’t want to be noticed right now.
I spear another piece of perfectly cooked lamb. Across from me, Mom’s eyes sparkle under the soft glow of the chandelier as she describes the geysers in Iceland she plans to see. “And after that, the glaciers in Alaska,” she gushes.
“Sounds amazing, Mom.” I take a sip of the Bordeaux we’re sharing. I don’t mind footing the bill for these adventures. She’s earned every bit of luxury with the sacrifices she made for my education and well-being.
As she launches in on a safari plan for Tanzania, I realize if I don’t push it, I’m never going to get a moment to broach the topic weighing on my mind. That’s the only way to move forward. “Mom, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
She pauses, her fork mid-air. “What is it?”
“Danica,” I say, and her posture stiffens slightly. “I’m serious about her. She’s become important to me.”
Her fork clatters softly against the plate. “Austin, you must be careful. Women will chase you for your money, for the lifestyle you can provide.”
I shake my head, firm in my conviction. “Danica’s not like that. She’s different.”
“Even so,” Mom insists, her voice laden with concern, “you should consider an NDA if you’re going to get involved. You don’t need your business spread across the tabloids. EnergiFusion is already all over them with Justin’s disappearance and all the battery fires. And when the time comes, you’ll need an airtight prenup—”
“Mom.” I hold up a hand. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I just want you to meet Danica. And I need you to get along with her.” I hope my veiled suggestion is clear.
“Promise me you’ll at least think about those things?” Her gaze holds mine, searching for reassurance. “I don’t want to hear about you having one of those King Alberts in the tabloids.”
“King Albert?”
“You know, one of those piercing things on your penis.” Her voice drops for the word penis as I choke on the water I’m drinking.
“I promise you, I don’t have a Prince Albert, but I’ll consider your concerns,” I concede, just to ease her worry. If she only knew that Danica almost ended it with me because I have money. Love isn’t about legal safety nets. It’s about trust, something I’m working on building with Danica.
Mom nods and returns to her tales of travel. But I can tell by the furrow between her brows that the matter isn’t settled in her mind. As we finish our meal and step out into the cool San Francisco night, tension hovers between us. I just have to hope Mom can make space in her heart for the idea of Danica and me.