Page 4

Rhys

B ack in the office that afternoon , time bleeds away in the confines of glass-walled conference rooms. Each meeting rolls into the next, an indistinguishable chorus of updates, strategies, and demands. Eventually, my focus wavers. In the end, I find myself back in my office, trying to piece together everything that’s been thrown at me today.

“Rhys.” Scott’s voice is a lifeline pulling me back to the present—a present that is now dark, lit by the lights of the City. “We should head out if you want to make it to drinks with Crystal on time.”

I glance at my watch, the numbers registering with surprise. It’s later than I thought. I gather my things, and we’re moving.

The crisp evening air hits me as we exit the building. Scott opens the car door, and I slide into the leather seat, the engine’s purr barely audible as we merge into the flow of traffic.

We arrive at the Inn Above Tide with time to spare. Scott offers a silent nod as I step out alone. He’ll be here waiting, no matter how long I’m inside.

As I enter, the hotel is muted elegance. I can’t help myself. My eyes roam the lobby, seeking a face I never expect to see again, a stranger with no name, just a wild-eyed grin and the laugh of someone on the run.

It’s ridiculous, of course. She’s long gone, probably back to a life I can’t imagine. Still, there’s a strange comfort in knowing someone was bold enough to throw caution to the wind and start over. It’s a reminder, maybe, that no matter how heavy things feel, there’s always a way forward.

My gaze settles on a group of tourists, their voices lively as they lean over the concierge desk, brimming with plans. For a fleeting second, I wonder what it would feel like to be that untethered, free from the weight of this title, this company, this mystery hanging over all of us.

The thought lingers, soft and warm, before reality pulls me back. But even as I turn toward the bar to meet Crystal, a small spark ignites in me, a reminder that it’s not weakness to imagine something better. It’s hope. I shake off the reverie, reminding myself that tonight is about Crystal. She’s a partner and a minority owner in the company. I can’t dismiss her perspective, and I need to understand her motivations. What does she want? She may be making decisions I wouldn’t make, have ideas I don’t understand, but Justin didn’t just leave us with the business hanging, he left his marriage and Crystal hanging too.

I settle at the bar, my fingers tracing the rim of a freshly poured sparkling water. After a minute, Crystal’s Dior Poison perfume announces her arrival before I can even look up.

“Sorry for the rush,” Crystal breathes out, a storm of presence as she slides onto the stool beside me. Her hand lifts in a swift signal to the server, who takes her order, a double vodka with a twist on the rocks that lands before her in seconds.

She turns to me, eyes flashing. “Thanks for wanting to meet.”

“Of course,” I reply. “You’re an important part of this team.” The words are true, no matter the complexities that thread through our past interactions.

She sips her drink, and there’s a hesitation in her gaze, a flint of challenge. “I know I’m not your favorite person…”

I pause, considering the weight of history between us. “You’ve done a lot for this company, Crystal,” I tell her, my tone measured. “No one can deny that. And I’m glad you came back to us. You’re a significant part of EnergiFusion’s start and its future.”

Her expression softens, just a touch, and it feels like the beginning of a truce—or perhaps the continuation of a complicated alliance. Either way, the foundation is set, and now, we build from here.

The clink of ice against glass punctuates the silence that falls between us. “I know you were hoping to be named CEO, but you really are a huge asset to us in marketing. And I value your perspective. What are your thoughts on the future of EnergiFusion?” I lean forward, my fingers brushing the cool condensation on my glass.

Crystal takes a slow sip of her vodka, her eyes narrowing as they scan the room. “Do you ever wonder how we got here, Rhys? Running this company Justin dragged us into? Or maybe I should say, dragged me into.”

I let out a dry chuckle, swirling the water in my glass. “Dragged all of us, really. We were just broke college kids trying to make it through chemistry lab without blowing anything up when the four of us met.”

A faint smile tugs at her lips. “And now look at you—global players in the battery business. Who would’ve thought?”

I shrug. “Not me, that’s for sure. But Justin always had a vision. He could see things the rest of us didn’t.”

Her smile fades, and there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—resentment, maybe. “Yeah, he saw a lot. But he didn’t see this coming. Or maybe he did, and that’s why he left.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “What do you mean?”

She sets her glass down with a soft clink, her fingers drumming lightly on the bar. “Justin wanted to sell the business,” she says. She sits back, relaxing into the curve of the bar stool. “Justin wanted out,” she adds. “He was ready to sell everything—cut ties, let you all start new adventures without the pressure of EnergiFusion.”

The revelation hits me like an unexpected wave, and for a moment, I’m adrift in the shock of it. “Sell?” My voice cracks on the word, betraying my composure. “How do you feel about that?”

Crystal’s fingers trace the rim of her glass absently. “I don’t want that,” she admits, and there’s a fierceness to her tone that resonates with something deep inside me. “Not at all.”

I exhale, relief mingling with confusion. Justin and I were close. Never once did he hint at such a drastic step. He was the CEO, and I was the CFO of EnergiFusion, but our friendship goes back to being chemistry partners our first semester our first year of college. “He never mentioned anything about selling to me,” I confess, my mind racing through past conversations, searching for a sign I might have missed.

“I think he was unsure how to bring it up with all of you,” she explains. “And then he was gone.”

“So, what do you want, Crystal?” I prod gently, steering us toward the heart of the matter.

“More responsibilities,” she says.

It’s a request I take seriously, considering her capabilities, her drive. She’s a formidable force, but one that could either propel us forward or send us spinning off course.

“I’m tired of being passed over for interim CEO,” she continues. “Do you know what it’s like, Rhys? To have your entire life put on hold because someone else decided to disappear?” Her voice is low, raw in a way I’ve rarely heard.

I pause, taken aback. “What Justin did to all of us was wrong, but to you most of all.”

She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “He left without a word, without a plan, and suddenly, I’m supposed to just…wait? For what? For him to come back and explain himself? For the board to treat me like more than just his wife?” Her grip tightens on the glass. “I’m done waiting, Rhys. I’ve earned more than this limbo he’s left me in.”

The silence stretches between us. For the first time, I see her not as an ambitious woman vying for control, but as someone who’s been left adrift, scrambling to find solid ground. It’s a helpful insight, but it tells me she doesn’t have a vision for the company I’ve missed. And I still don’t think she’s the right person to be our CEO.

Crystal is capable of a lot of things, but she doesn’t have a strong history of handling stress well, and she still lacks the technical background the rest of us have. Justin made her a partner by bringing her along, but we’re not on equal footing, as far as I’m concerned. Still, she doesn’t deserve any of this.

I force myself to smile. “We’ll find ways to broaden your experience,” I offer, keeping my tone neutral. But I can’t commit to giving her what she truly wants.

The next day I intercept Theo near the water cooler, a casual blockade in his path to the break room. “Hey,” I start, my voice low. “Did Justin ever mention wanting to sell the company? To…disband us?”

Theo’s eyes pop wide, an adamant shake of his head giving his answer before words do. “No. Never. Where’s this coming from?”

I mull over whether to share Crystal’s bombshell but decide to hold off. We’re all sitting together in a few minutes. Instead, I just nod and force a half-smile, leaving Theo with a pat on the shoulder and more questions than answers.

Later, inside the glass walls of a conference room, Austin’s reaction mirrors Theo’s—shock, then skepticism—as I relay the conversation with Crystal. His disbelief hangs heavy between us. “There’s no evidence he wanted that,” Austin asserts, scrolling through his tablet as if he could find proof of Justin’s intentions between emails and reports. “Is it wishful thinking on her part?”

“Could be,” I concede. “There’s no way we can confirm it with Justin gone, and she’s pushing hard for the CEO role,” I say, watching Austin’s expression tighten. I don’t know how to explain that Crystal’s ambitions feel less like a strategy and more like an emotional reaction. Perhaps it’s better to let them draw their own conclusions.

“That can never happen,” Theo says.

I’m silently relieved that Theo agrees. He and Crystal have been tight since the beginning, and I would hate to have a fight over leadership. But it was him who convinced her to stick with marketing during the board meeting.

“I agree,” Austin says. “She might be a better CFO than CEO. She’s just never understood the science of what we do, and that’s important for the face of the company.”

When our conversation has concluded, Theo leaves first, and Austin departs with a lingering look, one that says we’re both grappling with uncertainties bigger than corporate strategy or market shares. Back in my office, I sink into my chair, elbows propped on the mahogany desk, fingers tented in thought.

The thought of dismantling everything we’ve built together—the company, the friendships, the vision—feels impossible to grasp. And yet Crystal’s words echo in my mind, insidious and unsettling. Why would she say that if it wasn’t true? What does she stand to gain from such fragmentation? But she said she didn’t want it either… My gut churns, unable to piece together her angle.

A sigh leaks from my lips as I glance up at the framed photo of the four founders on my desk—Justin’s grin wide, eyes alight. I wish desperately for his return, for his voice to fill the silence left in meeting rooms and hallways.

But like everyone else, I just have to wait for more information. With a harsh swallow, I push the dread aside, burying it under the mounting tasks of the day. Work calls, and I can’t afford the luxury of fear—not when there’s a company to run.