Arnoi Industries
3923 E. Abbey Ln.
I take it, staring at the letters like it’s a key to a new life. A better life.
“We all want love,” he says.
I direct my gaze upward again. “Excuse me?”
“Love, Ms. Lancaster,” he says. “We’re all looking for someone to complete us.”
I clear my throat, heart beating. I try not to get emotional, but after listening to those women talk, it’s hard to get out of that mode.
“Um. I’m sorry, but I think I need to go now.”
“He’ll be out here for a while. Big project. I’m sure you heard about it,” he says. “Head down sometime. He’ll clear his schedule.”
And then he walks away. Like everyone in my life. But this time, there is an opportunity attached to the absence.
Love? I don’t know what he meant by that, but it hit home. Hard.
Elon and I are cousins, so we used to be pretty close. I can’t imagine what kind of job this is, but he knows I like a challenge.
Maybe, just maybe, this is what I need. Maybe it will heal me.
The opportunity of a lifetime rests in the palm of my hand. It’s not the world. It isn’t a total fix.
But it’s something, and I have to take it.
2
Ava
The first thing you see defines the rest of your life. Welcome to Arnoi Industries. Please enjoy your stay.
From the outside, the new headquarters of Arnoi Industries seems rather boring. It’s just another innocent factory in the middle of the industrial heartland of Ohio. Rough and tan grass plains stand like brittle needles, swaying against the wind. Trash litters the streets. It makes little sense Elon chose this spot for his new project, but at least it’s not too far from my apartment.
I did what the man in black told me to do. I didn’t call or make an appointment. That’s not Elon’s style. Arriving without his knowing gives me some time to get a read on what is really going on here.
The warehouse seems harmless enough. Probably a new type of database storage facility. I doubt he even needs my coding expertise. Most likely, he’s just doing me a favor. Back in the day, he’d call that “doing me a solid.” These days, he’s a little more refined.
Whatever the case may be, I’m here, walking through the grand entrance. Ready for whatever comes my way.
A secretary greets me in the lobby. She stands behind a long counter, smile fixed. A crisp outfit forms around her modest frame. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun. “Oh, great. You’ve arrived. Ava, right? Mr. Arnoi has been expecting you today,” she says.
I brush my fingers against the expensive marble kiosk. As soon as I touch it, the rock gleams. A thin layer of liquid drapes around my fingerprint. Within seconds, the counter cleans itself.
“Today?” I ask, a bit stunned.
She appears more confused than I. “Well, yes,” she says. “But he has, of course, been expecting you all week.”
“Oh, right,” I mutter, lip twitching into a thin smile. “He doesn’t like to arrange appointments.”
The woman, small and petite like all secretaries these days, moves nimbly around the counter. She gestures for me to follow. “Elon doesn’t favor chance encounters,” she says. “This is his way of letting go of control.”
Elon’s life was built on control. In fact, this entire company is now controlling the world. We own his products, play his games, and we use his holographic technology for just about everything. In a sense, he is a king.
If he’s letting go of control now, it would be highly uncharacteristic.