18.
Justin
I watch as Austin shuffles through the mountain of paperwork that now claims his desk. His expression is a mixture of confusion and annoyance, the reality of Crystal’s absence settling on him like a thick fog. She hasn’t even been gone two full days. I enjoy a twinge of satisfaction at seeing him this way. He was the first to raise a toast when she slammed the door on her way out last Friday afternoon.
“Can you believe this?” he mutters, shuffling another stack of receipts and invoices. “She actually kept track of all these expenses.”
“Believe it,” Rhys chimes in from the other side of the room, offering a respect that wasn’t there before. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he eyes the financial chaos that has become his unforeseen burden. “Crystal did more than we realized, especially with the finances,” he continues. Now our numbers guy, he looks lost without her meticulous work to guide him.
I nod silently. Not only did they underestimate her, we all did. And for Austin, the one who leaned on her the most in keeping the lab clean and full of supplies, this newfound grunt work is more than just inconvenient. It’s a lesson in humility. If this wasn’t such a crucial time, I’d be lifting a drink to toast Crystal for doing this. “Guess you’ll have to start pulling your weight around here,” I say, unable to suppress the edge in my voice.
Austin glares up at me, but I’m pretty sure there’s a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Whatever,” he grumbles, turning back to the disaster before him. “I’ll figure it out.”
Rhys sighs, pushing away from his desk to stand beside me, his gaze lingering on the mess that used to be Crystal’s domain. “We took her for granted, didn’t we?” he asks, though it’s not really a question.
I nod. And as much as I relish seeing Austin knocked down a peg, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re in deep water without Crystal. We need her, no matter how hard that is to admit.
Theo enters and knocks the neatly piled sheets of paper from the desk corner. They cascade downward, each one catching air and tumbling into an unpredictable pile on the floor. He bends to pick them up, his movements stiff with irritation. “Can’t believe you guys,” he mutters under his breath, though loud enough for all of us to hear. “Crystal was the one keeping this circus in check.” He shakes his head. “Fraser needs another set of those specs, and guess who’s playing errand boy?” He thrusts a hand toward the door where Fraser Lamb, the electrical engineer we’ve brought on board, is tapping his foot impatiently.
“Crystal would’ve had all this stuff prepped and ready for him,” he says, frustration clear in his voice. “She made sure everything ran smoothly so we could focus on actual problems.”
“Like how we’re going to manage without her,” I add, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Before I can say more, Rhys’s phone rings. He answers on speaker, and Crystal’s voice fills the room, clear and calm as ever.
“Hey, Rhys,” she greets, and there’s a pause that tells me she’s waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, she continues. “I got your message, and it sounds like you’ve got a paper jam. Just open the back tray and—”
“Wait, Crystal—” Rhys starts, but she’s already directing him with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times. He scrambles to follow her instructions, and after a moment, the printer whirrs back to life.
“Thanks,” Rhys says, a note of sheepish gratitude in his voice. “I’m also having trouble with the circuit-board orders.”
“Check my notebook,” Crystal instructs. “I detailed every vendor and their cost structures.”
“Where are you, anyway?” Rhys asks.
“In Mexico,” she replies, and it’s impossible to miss the satisfaction in her tone.
“Good for you,” Rhys says, but he’s not fooling anyone. His shoulders slump, and I know he’s kicking himself.
“Should have treated her better,” I murmur, echoing Rhys’s sentiment as he disconnects the call with wishes of fun and tequila. Theo nods in silent agreement. But maybe this was the right move for her. Rather than trying to get her back, what if we need to let her go?
“Maybe we should just look for someone who’s more experienced and can help me with the financials,” Rhys says, still staring at his phone.
“No way,” Theo says. “It would take forever to get them up to speed in time, and for that amount of money, we’re not going to find anyone else who cares about the company like she does. We need Crystal back.”
The guys convinced me to hold off on replacing Crystal when she gave her notice. They were sure we could lean on Emerson’s team and get by. But we’re answering our own phones—or at least we’re supposed to be—and things are falling apart. It’s past time to hire someone. I’m hunched over my laptop and scouring the web for some semblance of hope—a life raft in the form of affordable help.
“Maybe we can find someone cheaper,” Austin suggests, but we just look at him. We all know that’s wishful thinking. Minimum wage is as cheap as it gets.
But we can’t exist like this anymore, so Emerson at SHN is my first call. Her voice is a beacon of professionalism that only highlights our current disarray. “You might want to consider a temp service,” she advises after I explain our plight.
She isn’t offering to help. I can only guess it’s because she knows how things went down with Crystal, and she’s in on this payback.
“Thanks, Emerson,” I say, scribbling down the names of the services she rattles off. The phone is heavy in my hand as I dial each number, my hope dwindling with every quote that comes in. Turns out, just answering phones costs three times what we paid Crystal. My stomach drops with the realization. How did we not see her value?
A resigned sigh escapes me as I trudge down to Emerson’s office. Once her assistant admits me, I slump into the chair opposite her desk. Her expression is sympathetic, yet it holds a knowing edge, as if she had foreseen this outcome.
“Any luck?” she asks, though her tone suggests she already knows the answer.
“Define luck,” I reply with a dry chuckle. “Turns out, a good office manager earns about what we’re being paid right now as officers of the company.”
“Quality doesn’t come cheap,” Emerson remarks.
With no other options, when I go back downstairs, we bite the bullet. A temp it is. The words taste like ash in my mouth as I agree to the terms with an agency. They will send someone over in the morning. It’s a stopgap, I tell myself, a patch over the gaping hole left by Crystal’s absence. We definitely need to get her back. But it’s something. For now, that will have to be enough. Help is coming at the price of a small car.
The temp arrived this morning, as planned, but then he went to lunch and didn’t return. Is it really so terrible here? I don’t think it is, but I do know it’s been an incredibly long day, as a result, and yet we’re still here, eating dinner at the office. We have so much to do, even more since we have to take on what Crystal would usually handle.
I push around the remnants of my takeout burger in its box, my appetite waning as I listen to Austin’s latest gripe.
“You know, I thought the temp was supposed to make it better, but now that he bailed, everything just feels worse. It just reinforces all the extra crap we have to do.” He shakes his head.
Theo snorts, tossing a napkin into his empty box. “I had to take out the trash this morning. Me! Since when did we become janitors?”
“Since Crystal left,” Rhys says quietly.
A wave of guilt crashes over me, mixing with the frustration simmering since this morning’s temp debacle. We gave him the notebook Crystal had left behind, and we asked him to do a coffee run. He told us in no uncertain terms that was not in his job description, and it went downhill from there.
“Guys, we need to talk about Crystal,” I say, leaning forward, elbows braced against the cool surface of the table. “We didn’t just lose an office manager; we lost the glue that held us together.”
The table falls silent.
“Justin’s right,” Theo finally admits. “We treated her poorly, and now, we’re paying the price—literally.”
Austin sighs, running a hand through his hair. “So, what do we do? Beg her to come back?”
“More than beg,” I assert, my resolve hardening. “We need to offer her a raise, and a share in the company. It’s only fair. She’s helping us get to success as much as Fraser is.”
Rhys balks, his brow furrowing. “We can’t just give away pieces of the company. If Fraser is successful, he’s getting ten percent. We can’t keep shrinking our shares…”
“Then what?” I challenge. “Keep losing money because we can’t handle basic tasks? Watch the place fall apart because our pride won’t let us admit we need her? If we don’t succeed, we’ll all end up with nothing. Then it won’t matter what your share of it is.”
They exchange uneasy glances. Nobody wants to lose their grip on the startup we’ve poured our souls into, but the reality is stark. We’re floundering without Crystal.
“Fine,” Austin concedes with a heavy exhale. “We offer her more money. But a piece of the company is off the table until we sort out the power dynamics with the new roles. If we give Crystal a part of the business now, she’ll vote with you every time. You’ll have more say than the rest of us.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I suppose that’s true, even though I don’t think it’s what Crystal wants. Once again, the dynamics of our intertwined relationships are making things more complicated.
“Agreed,” Rhys chimes in, though I can tell he’s not entirely comfortable with the decision.
“Are we sure she’ll even want to come back after how things went down?” Theo asks.
“We have to try,” I insist. “Crystal’s too valuable to let go over some misplaced ego. She deserves better from us, and we’re going to make it right.”
There’s a collective nod, and we return our focus to the remains of our meal. Crystal is worth it. Our company is worth it. And deep down, I know we all agree, even if none of us is ready to say it out loud yet.
My phone vibrates against the desk, and I snatch it up before the second ring, desperate for any hint of a lifeline.
“Crystal?” The word tumbles out.
“Hey, Justin.” Her voice is a warm breeze.
Maybe I should be more strategic about this, but suddenly, I can’t help myself. “Listen, Crystal, we—we need you back here. We’re willing to offer more money, just please…” I trail off, my plea hanging awkwardly in the air between us.
The guys are all looking at me, eyes wide.
I can almost hear her weighing her next words. “I appreciate that, Justin, but it’s not just about the money. I don’t think I can live and work with the guys anymore. If I come back, I want us to move out. Get our own space.”
I glance around at the guys, thinking about how personal boundaries have blurred with professional ones, and I can’t blame her. But finances are tight, and dreams are even tighter.
“Crystal, I get it, I really do,” I say. “Do you have a line on a place we can afford? Even with your raise, rents are so high in this city.”
She sighs. “I know. But I just want to be alone with you.”
“Trust me. I want that too. But right now, we can’t swing it. As soon as we can afford it, I swear we’ll move out, leave this college lifestyle behind.”
“Okay, Justin. I hope that’s true,” she says softly before ending the call.
I’m left staring at the phone, wondering if I’m trying harder to convince her or myself that all this will be worth it someday.
“What did she say?” Theo asks.
“Uh, well, I think it was mostly positive…” I begin. But before I get any further, my phone blares again—Mason’s name flashing. I swipe to answer.
“Justin!” he nearly shouts. “Where the hell are we with the Automotive Showcase application? You guys aren’t answering the main line.”
“Uh, we’re working on it, Mason,” I lie smoothly. Three days without Crystal, and we’ve lost the map to our own bathroom.
“Working on it isn’t good enough! This Showcase is crucial, Justin. Don’t screw this up!” he snaps before hanging up.
I stare at the scattered papers covering the table, none of which tells us where the damn application for the showcase is. Crystal would know. She would have had it filed, labeled, ready to go. According to SHN, this showcase is what we need to get the auto manufacturers interested in what we’re doing. If we’re lucky, we’ll have orders to rely on for our next phase.
I slam the phone down, a pulse throbbing in my temple. “Guys…” I shake my head, looking up into their nervous faces. “We’ve got to figure this out, now.”
They nod, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re not even remotely sure of what to do. I look online and finally find the blank application for the Automotive Showcase. Holy shit, this thing is worse than any college application I ever had to do. My heart races. I don’t even know where to find some of this information. Cost analysis? I know Crystal was working on marketing materials with someone at SHN… There are pages and pages of questions. How are we ever going to get this done in time?
“Guys,” I start, pacing before Austin, Rhys, and Theo, “we need to bend. Crystal’s demands aren’t outrageous. She deserves a piece of the company. This isn’t about voting. It’s about fairness.”
My words hang like a challenge, yet they’re met with nothing but more wide eyes. I can almost see the calculations running through their heads, numbers translating into percentages of ownership, slices of the dream we all baked together getting thinner.
“Come on,” I press, hoping to stir them into action. “We have to—”
“Justin,” Austin finally says, his voice tight as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying more. His gaze is locked on his screen, away from confrontation, away from me.
Rhys rubs his temples, the lines of worry etched deep into his forehead, while Theo looks at me, his eyes flickering with something akin to betrayal. They don’t say it, but the message is clear. No one wants their share of the company diluted any more than it has to be.
“Fine,” I growl, the realization settling like lead in my stomach. Then I’ll give her some of mine.
Without waiting for a response, I snatch my phone and go to the office to call Crystal again. My heart races at the thought of her actually picking up for a second time this evening. But I need to hear the voice that could bring us back from the brink.
“Crystal,” I exhale when she answers, relief flooding my veins. “Listen, we’ll pay you more. And we’ll grant you a portion of the company. Please come back. Mason needs the application for the Automotive Showcase, and we don’t know what to do.”
A pause stretches across the line, and I fear she’s about to reject my offer, but then she speaks, her voice calm and collected.
“Justin, check the binder I left behind. The application is all there, completed.”
“Wait, really?” I blink at the simplicity of the solution, the lifeline she’s thrown us.
“Yes,” she replies, and I can almost hear the soft smile in her voice. “I’ll see you in two days.”
“Two days,” I repeat, the words tasting like hope, like a promise of something better. Then I dial Mason’s number, my fingers drumming anxiously on the cluttered desk.
The phone rings twice before he picks up, his voice brisk as always. “Justin? What’s the update?”
“Hey, Mason. The application for the Automotive Showcase is all set. We’re on track for the deadline.”
“Good to hear,” Mason replies. “And how are things with the new electrical engineer?”
I hesitate. The image of Fraser Lamb, our temporary savior, flickers in my mind—his furrowed brow, the way his hands shuffle through papers, searching for answers that used to be at Crystal’s fingertips.
“Progress is slower than expected,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “Fraser’s skilled, no doubt, but we’ve hit a few snags. So far, his ideas are things we’ve already done. But he’s not giving up.”
“He needs to be sure everything has been covered.” There’s no judgment in Mason’s voice, just a matter-of-fact observation that stings because of its truth. “What’s going on with Crystal?”
“She’s on vacation in Mexico.”
“Is she coming back?”
I know Crystal spoke with Emerson before giving notice, and I’m sure she told Mason. “We’re working on that.”
“Crystal is worth every penny you give her. I highly suggest you do what it takes to get her to continue in her position.”
“We’re realizing that. And I’m working on it—on getting her to continue working for us.”
“See that you do,” Mason says, his words a command more than advice.
“Understood.” I nod even though he can’t see me.
“Keep me posted. And remember, time’s ticking on that showcase. Be sure you’re ready. It’s a make-or-break moment for you guys.”
“Got it, Mason. Thanks.” I hang up and blow out a breath.
I look down at Crystal’s binder, still clutched in my hands. With her meticulous notes guiding me, I know we have a fighting chance.
Two days. Just hold on for two more days.