The Sunnyvale warehouse was a cavernous, twenty-thousand-square-foot expanse of concrete and exposed steel beams. The air inside was thick with the smell of industrial dust, lingering motor oil, and the baking California heat radiating from the corrugated metal roof.
It was entirely, aggressively empty.
Toby’s footsteps echoed loudly as he walked into the center of the vast floor, spinning around to take in the sheer scale of the space.
"Gray, this place is massive," Toby called out, his voice bouncing off the cinderblock walls. "It looks like an abandoned airplane hangar. Are you sure we need this much space? We don't even own a desk yet."
Grayson Knight stood near the heavy steel roll-up doors at the entrance, his navy suit immaculately sharp against the gritty, industrial backdrop.
