Page 66
Story: Ship Happens
Chapter Twelve
ETHAN
MEETING THE BEST FRIENDS
Two weeks after our first real-world date, Harper sits across from me at my dining table, her laptop open as she makes final edits to her paper. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, a pencil stuck through it, and she’s wearing one of my old Columbia Business School t-shirts over her underwear. It’s a Saturday morning, sunlight streaming through my apartment windows, she is gorgeous.
“You’re staring again,” she says without looking up from her screen.
“I’m admiring,” I correct, sipping my coffee. “There’s a difference.”
She glances up, a smile playing at her lips. “Is there?”
“Staring is rude. Admiring is admiring.” I set my mug down. “And you’re admirable in my shirt with the serious scientist expression.”
A light blush colors her cheeks, but she rolls her eyes. “Smooth talker.”
“Just honest.” I slide a plate of fresh fruit toward her. “Eat something. You’ve been editing since before the sun came up.”
“I’m almost done.” She takes a strawberry, attention already back on her work. “My publisher’s final review is Monday, and then it goes live Wednesday.”
I try to ignore the tension in my shoulders at the reminder. Harper’s findings will be published in three days, laying out both Cole Tech’s environmental successes and shortcomings for public consumption. While I’ve seen earlier drafts and know it’s fair—brutally honest and balanced—the public response remains unpredictable.
“Nervous?” she asks, proving once again her uncanny ability to read my mind.
“Cautiously optimistic,” I reply. “You are thorough and fair. The board has already approved the improvements you recommended.”
“But?”
“But public perception rarely follows logic.” I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “There will be those who focus only on the wrong things.”
Harper closes her laptop, giving me her full attention. “People determined to see Cole Tech as the bad guy will find evidenceto support that view, regardless of what I wrote. Just as those invested in seeing you as saviors will dismiss the negative.”
“Very philosophical for an empirical scientist,” I tease, though her pragmatism is reassuring.
“I’ve learned that humans are objective, even scientists.” She steals a piece of melon from my plate. “Speaking of perception, Zoe wants to meet you.”
The abrupt change of subject catches me off guard. “Your journalist best friend? The one who thinks I’ve compromised your professional integrity?”
“She’s coming around.” Harper grins. “She’s suggested dinner tonight. Her and Lucas, you and me.”
“Lucas being...?”
“Her boyfriend. He’s a sous chef at Terroir, the restaurant in Brooklyn.” She watches my reaction carefully. “It would be our first public outing as a couple. Well, semi-public. Among trusted friends.”
The significance isn’t lost on me. We’ve spent the past two weeks hiding in a private bubble, alternating between my apartment and hers, deliberately keeping our relationship secret. Meeting her best friend represents allowing the outside world in.
“I’d like that,” I say. “Though I’m prepared for a grilling from Zoe.”
“Oh, there will be a full-blown interrogation,” Harper confirms. “She’s already compiled a list of questions.”
“Should I bring my legal team? Alex might need to vet the questions.”
“Just your charm and honesty.” She laughs, coming around the table to perch on my lap, arms looping around my neck. “She’s important to me, Ethan. Her opinion matters.”
“Then I’ll do my best to win her over.” I marvel yet again at how naturally this intimacy has grown between us. “What time is dinner?”
“Seven, at their place in Park Slope.” She presses a kiss to my jaw. “Casual, but nice. Lucas is cooking.”
ETHAN
MEETING THE BEST FRIENDS
Two weeks after our first real-world date, Harper sits across from me at my dining table, her laptop open as she makes final edits to her paper. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, a pencil stuck through it, and she’s wearing one of my old Columbia Business School t-shirts over her underwear. It’s a Saturday morning, sunlight streaming through my apartment windows, she is gorgeous.
“You’re staring again,” she says without looking up from her screen.
“I’m admiring,” I correct, sipping my coffee. “There’s a difference.”
She glances up, a smile playing at her lips. “Is there?”
“Staring is rude. Admiring is admiring.” I set my mug down. “And you’re admirable in my shirt with the serious scientist expression.”
A light blush colors her cheeks, but she rolls her eyes. “Smooth talker.”
“Just honest.” I slide a plate of fresh fruit toward her. “Eat something. You’ve been editing since before the sun came up.”
“I’m almost done.” She takes a strawberry, attention already back on her work. “My publisher’s final review is Monday, and then it goes live Wednesday.”
I try to ignore the tension in my shoulders at the reminder. Harper’s findings will be published in three days, laying out both Cole Tech’s environmental successes and shortcomings for public consumption. While I’ve seen earlier drafts and know it’s fair—brutally honest and balanced—the public response remains unpredictable.
“Nervous?” she asks, proving once again her uncanny ability to read my mind.
“Cautiously optimistic,” I reply. “You are thorough and fair. The board has already approved the improvements you recommended.”
“But?”
“But public perception rarely follows logic.” I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “There will be those who focus only on the wrong things.”
Harper closes her laptop, giving me her full attention. “People determined to see Cole Tech as the bad guy will find evidenceto support that view, regardless of what I wrote. Just as those invested in seeing you as saviors will dismiss the negative.”
“Very philosophical for an empirical scientist,” I tease, though her pragmatism is reassuring.
“I’ve learned that humans are objective, even scientists.” She steals a piece of melon from my plate. “Speaking of perception, Zoe wants to meet you.”
The abrupt change of subject catches me off guard. “Your journalist best friend? The one who thinks I’ve compromised your professional integrity?”
“She’s coming around.” Harper grins. “She’s suggested dinner tonight. Her and Lucas, you and me.”
“Lucas being...?”
“Her boyfriend. He’s a sous chef at Terroir, the restaurant in Brooklyn.” She watches my reaction carefully. “It would be our first public outing as a couple. Well, semi-public. Among trusted friends.”
The significance isn’t lost on me. We’ve spent the past two weeks hiding in a private bubble, alternating between my apartment and hers, deliberately keeping our relationship secret. Meeting her best friend represents allowing the outside world in.
“I’d like that,” I say. “Though I’m prepared for a grilling from Zoe.”
“Oh, there will be a full-blown interrogation,” Harper confirms. “She’s already compiled a list of questions.”
“Should I bring my legal team? Alex might need to vet the questions.”
“Just your charm and honesty.” She laughs, coming around the table to perch on my lap, arms looping around my neck. “She’s important to me, Ethan. Her opinion matters.”
“Then I’ll do my best to win her over.” I marvel yet again at how naturally this intimacy has grown between us. “What time is dinner?”
“Seven, at their place in Park Slope.” She presses a kiss to my jaw. “Casual, but nice. Lucas is cooking.”
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