Chapter 4
NATE
There’s a doll out there stuffed with my hair and some guy poking at it as though he’s God.
It’s the only plausible explanation for the slew of unfortunate events that have occurred in a matter of hours.
Not days, not months, not weeks.
Just a few horrible, life-changing hours.
Everything going wrong at the event you’ve been planning for months. Check.
Reuniting with the pretty girl who blamed you for ruining her lab notebook and made it clear she wouldn’t forget the incident anytime soon. Check.
Falling into a fountain because said girl decided to provoke some wild goose. Triple check.
And for the heck of it, I’d throw a few cherries on top of that one.
None of the above experiences were on my checklist for the year, but for the sake of my sanity, and my last brain cell trying to wrap my head around it all, I’d like to put yesterday behind me.
Preferably, act like it never happened and start fresh.
But that isn’t possible when my company’s integrity hangs in the balance.
The plane is back at our manufacturing headquarters in Texas, thanks to a little invention called a ferry. And now all Archer Aviation needs is a sensible and valid explanation for whatever went down as quickly as humanly possible.
The sooner we get to the bottom of this and make that information public, the better off we’ll be.
Well, I hope so, at least.
Nothing is ever guaranteed.
The phone on my desk buzzes to life, and I hit the answer button without a second thought.
I’ve counted, and this is precisely the twenty-second time Melanie has called me this morning. Each regarding a different problem she’s encountered—with the media, the investigation team, and how she wishes I’d gone back on stage. It’s all been shit news so far, but this call will be different.
I can feel it.
“The deal is off.”
I recoil at the masculine voice on the other end of the line, brows furrowing at the Caller ID.
Everett Staines.
Fuck. My. Life.
“I know the outcome of yesterday’s showcase was not as planned, but I assure you that our engineers are working overtime to get to the bottom of it.
We got in touch with the pilot who flew the plane to New Jersey, and he confirmed that everything was in order at the time of his walk-around.
It’s just a matter of figuring out how the spark originated. ”
A low chuckle erupts from deep within him, and it sends a chill up my spine.
I was truthful and straight to the point—two traits he seemed to admire in me yesterday. But today, he sounds malicious and almost condescending.
“It’s a lot more than a spark, Nate Archer.” Venom laces his voice at the mention of my name. “And due to the unforeseen changes in your reputation, SkyWay Airlines can no longer associate with or consider Archer Aviation a contender for the electric plane deal.”
My hand rakes through my already tousled hair, the frustration bubbling out of me.
It was one incident. A tiny blip in the six years our planes have been in operation. Never have we ever encountered an issue remotely similar to this. Did that not count for anything?
“With all due respect, Mr. Staines, if you’d give us the chance to finish our investigation, I’m sure we’ll have a reasonable explanation for all of this. Our engineers are working overtime—”
A deep, hateful laugh cuts me off. “With all due respect, Mr. Archer, not understanding the consequences of your actions is a problem in itself. As the father of two daughters and a wife who’s gone through a similar situation, I cannot overlook the accusations made against you.”
I open my mouth in protest, ready to defend myself. To ask, What the fuck are you talking about? What accusations? What actions? But the line goes dead before I have the chance.
“Fuck.” I slam the phone on my desk, dropping back into the cushioned leather of my office chair.
This was meant to be Archer Aviation’s biggest contract yet. A one-way ticket to take a company operating nationwide and blow it out of the gate.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re partnered with some reputable American airlines, and I’m grateful for the success we’ve had over the years, but that’s never been the end goal.
I’ve always envisioned this company flying worldwide.
Competing with the major aircraft manufacturers.
Becoming a household name in the green aviation space.
And now, that opportunity has just…poof… vanished.
“You’re in for a treat.”
I shift my eyes away from the thrilling blank ceiling and toward my pesky little brother.
With a thud, he drops a mountain of magazines before me. “I don’t have time for this.” My words are firm.
It may be harsh, but after the shit conversation I’ve had, I couldn’t care less. I want to wallow in peace. Mourn the crumbs of the career I have left. But in true sibling fashion, he stays, whipping out his arm to hurl a magazine straight at my head.
Years of playing sports have sharpened my reflexes enough to catch the thing on time.
Nate Archer: Launching New Technology or a New Relationship.
“What is this?” I ask, eyes narrowing on the bold red letters across the page. A blurry image serves as the background of this poorly made tabloid. The thing is so dark I can barely make out what it is.
Adam ignores my question as he flings another magazine my way—this one with the force of a thousand suns, thirty-six diabolical geese, and three heavy fountains. One of its sharp corners grazes my cheek, stinging long after it’s fallen into my lap.
I can’t help but roll my eyes when I swipe my thumb over the skin and it comes back red.
Paper cut.
Great.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” I glare at Adam when he finally emerges from behind the colorful stack.
He seems unfazed by my words. “Do yourself a favor and stop asking rhetorical questions. Now, read that one quickly. I’m leaving the best for last.” He motions to the one in his hand.
My lips press into a thin line as I turn over the tabloid against my will.
Unlike the last one, this cover holds no ambiguity.
It’s a similar fountain to last night’s—two people standing in the basin, soaked from head to toe as they’re lit by the weak moonlight.
The woman’s vivid red dress nearly glows while a man steadies her, one hand wrapped around her waist, and the other cradling her head.
An Engine Isn’t the Only Thing Sparking Tonight: All About Nate Archer and His Dating History.
“What kind of sick joke are you playing—”
“Uh, uh, uh.” My brother shakes his index finger back and forth. “What did I say about asking questions?” He drags a hand across his mouth as though zipping it shut.
My eyes narrow as red clouds my vision.
The last thing I wanted today was to deal with the likes of him. But if there’s one thing my brother doesn’t know how to do, it’s take no for an answer.
To my dismay, Adam flips over the magazine he’s been holding close to his chest to reveal an obnoxious yellow font across a flowery background. And right there, front and center, is a poorly arranged collage of Vivienne’s and my faces—with the worst title of them all.
Cover Up: Nate Archer Uses Aerospace Engineering Firm to Date and Lure in Younger Girls. Could he be the next Leonardo DiCaprio?
“What kind of sick joke are you playing on me, Adam?” I grit through my teeth with a scowl.
I have more important things to worry about. The spark. The root of the cause. The downright awful news articles that’ll spread about the integrity of our planes. Whatever Adam is putting me through is a waste of time—both his and mine.
I stand from my chair, marching over to my officially disowned brother.
A tap on the head is all he needs to knock some sense back into him. Yet the echo I expect to reverberate through his empty skull never comes when he catches my wrist, his expression a scowl as though he’s the one annoyed.
“I get that you’re angry, but if you haven’t figured it out, none of this is a joke. Those articles are circulating the internet as we speak, and if you thought the spark was bad, shit’s about to get exponentially worse.”
I yank my hand away from his grasp. “No one believes the shit these sources write. They don’t even come close to being reputable.”
Adam scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“This isn’t science, Nate—these articles don’t need to be peer reviewed.
People believe whatever it is they read first, and right now, your integrity is being questioned.
You’re the face of this firm, so you’d better figure out how to take care of these allegations before your personal reputation affects the business. ”
I jab my shoulder into his as I walk past, getting slight satisfaction from seeing him jerk back. There’s no time for this tomfoolery. These so-called allegations he’s talking about have no solid ground.
“I have a company to run,” I say coldly, striding toward my office doors.
“You’ll regret not listening to me, Nate.” Adam gets in the last word.
His taunt lingers, but I cut it short with the violent slam of the office door, the sound echoing my answer in its stead.
———
The door to my office bursts open, and Melanie struts in, laptop in hand. Annoyance rises within me as I watch her plop herself onto one of my armchairs, setting the sleek, silvery device on my desk.
This is my second unwanted interruption today. And as much as I love my cousin, she ranks right up there with Adam on my list of people I’d rather not see.
“How are you doing, my dear cousin?” Melanie gives me her signature saccharine smile—the one she breaks out when she wants something. The thing is, at this moment in time, there’s nothing left for me to give. Emotionally. Financially. You name it. I’m burned out on all expenses.