Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
HARPER
GOING PUBLIC
“ I t’s officially live,” I announce, staring at my laptop screen where my environmental expose of Cole Tech’s cruise operations now appears on my publisher’s website, complete with an attention-grabbing headline.
Inside Cole Tech’s Environmental Impact: The Unvarnished Truth.
Ethan leans over my shoulder, his coffee mug paused halfway to his lips. “Well, that headline’s subtle.”
“My publisher’s choice, not mine.” I scroll through the introduction, checking for any last-minute editorial changes. “I wanted ‘Comprehensive Assessment of Environmental Practices and Future Sustainability Initiatives.’”
“Shockingly, that doesn’t have quite the same clickbait appeal.” His hand rests warm on my shoulder, thumb tracing small circles at the nape of my neck. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous. Relieved. Proud of my work.” I close the laptop, turning to face him. “Concerned about the inevitable backlash once people realize we’re together.”
We’re in my apartment this morning—a deliberate choice so I could do this from my space, maintain some professional separation. Ethan arrived at dawn with coffee and breakfast, understanding without being told that I needed the emotional support today.
“Your work speaks for itself,” he reminds me, settling into the chair beside mine. “The backlash is nothing we cannot handle.”
“And those who only read the headline or cherry-pick quotes to support their opinions?”
“We’re never going to engage with the crazy people,” he finishes for me. “You’ve always known that.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I know. I just want the work to matter. To be a part of real change, not just generate controversy.”
“It already has,” Ethan points out. “My board approved all my requests based on your findings. The change was already happening before it’s even been public for five minutes.”
“Thank you,” I say. “For respecting the process. For not trying to influence me. For understanding why this matters so much to me.”
“Of course.” He leans forward, brushing a kiss against my temple. “Your ethics is one thing I admire most about you.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming text, the first of what will be many reactions today. It’s from Zoe:
It’s live! Already getting social media traction. The waste system analysis is damning while acknowledging the containment effectiveness. Perfect balance of critique and credit. You knocked it out of the park, Bennett.
I show Ethan the message, relief washing through me at this first positive response.
“One endorsement down,” he says with a smile. “Arguably from my toughest critic, since she’s both a journalist and protective of you.”
“True.” I set the phone down as it buzzes again with notifications. “And how are things on your end? Any board tantrums yet?”
“Alex is monitoring things,” he replies, his deliberate corporate phrasing making me smile. “She will tell me if I need to worry, or calm any tantrums.”
My phone rings—my publisher. I take a deep breath, answering with professional composure.
“Dr. Bennett speaking.”
“Harper, it’s Richard. The piece is live and already generating significant traffic.” My publisher’s voice contains the enthusiasm of expected controversy. “We’re getting media requests for interviews. How’s your availability today and tomorrow?”
“I can make time,” I reply, making eye contact with Ethan, who nods. “Which outlets?”
“Environmental publications, obviously. But also, mainstream business media—CNBC wants you for a segment this afternoon, and Bloomberg is requesting a joint interview with you and Ethan Cole.”
I freeze momentarily, unprepared for this specific complication so quickly. “A joint interview? Why?”
Ethan raises an eyebrow, following enough of the conversation to understand the question.
“Yes, their angle is the collaboration—a corporation opening itself to external scientific scrutiny, that whole transparency narrative,” Richard explains. “It’s excellent exposure, especially with Cole agreeing to take part.”
“I haven’t discussed this sort of request with Mr. Cole yet,” I say, earning a questioning look from Ethan.
“Well, reach out to his team and let me know. It would make an excellent follow-up to the initial splash.” Richard pauses. “By the way, this is excellent work. More nuanced than I was expecting, but solid journalism.”
“Thank you.” I keep my tone even, resisting the urge to point out that it’s solid science, not journalism. “I’ll check my schedule and confirm which interviews I can make time for.”
After ending the call, I look at Ethan with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Bloomberg wants a joint interview with us. Apparently, they’re pitching it as ‘corporation opens itself to scientific scrutiny’ human interest story.”
“Clever angle,” he replies. “How do you feel about that?”
“Professionally, it makes sense. It makes it look like a collaborative transparency initiative rather than an antagonistic exposé.” I chew my lip, considering. “Personally...”
“It might announce our relationship,” he finishes for me. “which is what they’re after.”
“The speculation would be there, out in the open.” I run a hand through my hair, thinking through possible consequences. “Especially given our situation-ship all over socials.”
“The champagne incident remains most memorable,” he agrees with a small smile. “it still gets clicks. Look we said if they ask, we will tell. I respect you not wanting to hide this.”
“This is...”
“Reality,” he supplies. “The question is whether you’re ready for that reality today, or if you’d rather wait.”
His thoughtfulness continues to surprise and impress me.
“What would you prefer?” I ask, wanting his honesty.
He considers this. “Professionally, a joint interview showcases Cole Tech’s commitment to environmental improvement. Personally...” He takes my hand, his expression vulnerable. “I’m not interested in hiding our relationship forever, Harper. I’m proud to be with you. I love you,”
“Even though I’ve just published a rigorous critique of your company’s environmental shortcomings?”
“Especially because of that,” he says.
“Most men would find it inconvenient,” I point out.
“I’m not most men.”
“No,” I agree. “You’re not.”
Decision made, I reach for my phone again. “I’ll tell Richard we’re open to the joint interview, but that I’d like to do the solo ones first, establish some credibility.”
“That’s great,” Ethan agrees, rising to refill our coffee mugs. “I want you to be happy.”
“Look at us, finding middle ground,” I tease. “We’re a case study in collaboration.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” He returns with fresh coffee, eyes crinkling with amusement. “And here I thought it was just two stubborn people who love each other.”
The heat in his gaze sends a familiar warmth through me, distracting me from the professional obligations of the day. Three weeks of mind-blowing sex has done nothing to slow down how much we want more.
“Focus, Cole,” I admonish, though I can’t help smiling. “Today is about work, not your appreciation of my bedroom skills.”
“Can’t it be both?” he suggests, leaning closer. “The paper is published. We have forty minutes before you need to get ready for your first interview.”
“And you’re suggesting we use that time for...”
“Bedroom skills,” he supplies. “Stress relief. Take your pick.”
“You’re so bad,” I inform him, even as I lean toward him.
“You like it.” His fingers trace the line of my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.
“I do like it,” I agree, before closing the distance between us.
The kiss begins gently, but quickly intensifies as it always seems to between us, an underlying current of attraction refuses to be tamed. His hand slips down to my waist, tugging me from my chair onto his lap with an ease that still thrills me.
“Forty minutes isn’t much time,” I murmur against his lips as his hands find their way under my t-shirt.
“I can work with forty minutes,” he assures me, skillful fingers already trace the outline of my bra.
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Cole?” I ask, deliberately grinding against him.
His sharp intake of breath is satisfying. “If you’d like it to be, Dr. Bennett.”
I stand, pulling him toward my bedroom. “I think we should test those bedroom skills, right now.”
“Always happy to practice,” he replies, following eagerly.
We barely make it through the doorway before clothes drop to the floor—my t-shirt, his button-down, both of us impatient. When we reach the bed, I push him down, straddling his hips.
“This is my bedroom,” I remind him, pinning his wrists above his head. “I get to be in charge.”
The flash of heat in his eyes confirms he’s as affected by my tone as I’d hoped. “Whatever you say, Doctor.”
Later, with seven minutes remaining before I need to get dressed and fix my hair for my first interview, I lie sprawled across his chest, both of us catching our breath.
“I think you pass the skills test,” I murmur against his skin. “And you made every minute work.”
His laughter rumbles beneath my ear. “Oh, I pass do I?”
“Don’t let it inflate your ego,” I say, pressing a kiss to his chest before reluctantly sitting up. “I need to shower before my interview.”
“Can I help with that?” he offers, though he makes no move to rise, looking thoroughly satisfied and smug.
“Absolutely not. Your help would turn a two-minute shower into an hour.” I grab my robe from the bedpost, wrapping it around myself. “Besides, don’t you have actual CEO work today? Board reactions to manage? PR strategies to approve?”
“All being handled,” he assures me, sitting up and reaching for his discarded boxer briefs. “But yes, I should check in with Alex. She’s probably wondering why I’m not responding to her ten-thousand updates.”
I pause in the bathroom doorway, struck by a sudden thought. “Does Alex know where you are right now?”
“She knows I’m not in the office,” he hedges.
“But does she know you’re with me? At my apartment? In my bed?”
His slight hesitation answers before he does. “Let’s say she has made certain logical deductions but hasn’t asked for confirmation.”
“Ethan.” I cross my arms, trying to look stern despite my disheveled state. “Your PR director doesn’t officially know about us? Even though we’re considering a joint interview that will announce our relationship?”
“Alex is...,” he says carefully.
“Fucking terrifying, she will want to kill me.”
“She has made several pointed comments about my god mood and mysterious schedule changes. But no, we haven’t had a formal discussion about our relationship status. I did not think it was at the tell Alex point yet.”
“That seems like an oversight for someone like you,” I say.
“Maybe,” he acknowledges. “Or a deliberate choice to keep some privacy in an otherwise public life.”
The vulnerability beneath this admission catches me off guard. For all his corporate power and public persona, Ethan values the private parts of his life—including, apparently, our relationship—as something separate from his CEO identity.
“I understand,” I say more gently. “But if we’re doing this interview...”
“Then I’ll speak with her today,” he finishes. “She needs to be briefed before we go public.”
“Good.” I nod. “Now I really need to shower. Alone. Or I’ll be late for my first interview.”
“Go,” he says with a smile. “Be brilliant. I’ll make more coffee.”
Ninety minutes later, showered and dressed, I’ve completed my first phone interview with an environmental journal. Ethan has retreated to my small home office for his own calls, giving me space to focus on articulating my findings without his distracting presence.
When I emerge from the bedroom after changing for my on-camera interview with CNBC, he’s in my kitchen, frowning at his phone.
“Problem?” I ask, adjusting my blazer.
He glances up, his expression clearing as he takes in my appearance. “Just board antics. Nothing unexpected.” His gaze turns appreciative. “You look fantastic. Very sexy environmental scientist.”
“That’s not the goal,” I reply, though I like his reaction. The green blazer over a simple white blouse is professional without being stuffy, conveying both authority and authenticity. “How did your call with Alex go?”
“Enlightening,” he says with a rueful smile. “Apparently, she’s known about us since the second week after the cruise and has been waiting for me to ‘stop being an emotionally constipated CEO’ and tell her.”
I laugh at the direct quote, liking Alex more. “And her reaction to doing the interview together?”
“She thinks it’s excellent idea from a corporate perspective—” He hesitates. “She’s more concerned about the personal side of it, for you.”
“For me?” This surprises me. “Not for you or Cole Tech?”
“Her exact words were, ‘Harper’s credibility will face more scrutiny than your corporate reputation.’” He looks troubled by this. “She has a point. Cole Tech is expected to engage in strategic PR; you’re expected to be objective.”
“She’s not wrong,” I acknowledge, checking the time. My car will arrive in ten minutes. “If our relationship becomes public through this interview, my reputation will survive.”
His expression softens into something that makes my heart race. “You are too brave, Harper Bennett.”
“What is the worst that can happen?”
“Do not ask that.” He steps closer. “It’s a zoo out there.”
“A zoo really?” I ask. “I am a grown woman, I don’t want us to hide this away.”
My phone buzzes—my car has arrived. Ethan walks me to the door.
“Knock ‘em dead, Dr. Bennett,” he says as I gather my notes and bag. “I’ll be watching from here.”
“No ‘helpful’ text commentary during the segment,” I warn him. “I need to focus.”
“I would never,” he protests with mock offense. “I would... I have.”
“Admire silently,” I say, but can’t help smiling as I leave.
The CNBC interview goes smoothly—my years of presentations and environmental conferences have prepared me for media appearances. I articulate the key findings, emphasizing both the areas where Cole Tech exceeds industry standards and those requiring major improvement.
“Your assessment is unusually an environmental critique of a major corporation, this one time you are not on the attack,” the interviewer notes. “Some might say suspiciously so, given the antagonistic relationship between advocates and Cole Tech. How do you respond to that?”
“Science isn’t about antagonism, it’s about facts.” I reply. “My findings document exactly what I observed and measured during my time evaluating Cole Tech’s operations. Their waste management systems need major upgrades, which I’ve detailed. Their marine habitat protection initiatives exceed regulatory requirements and show a genuine commitment, which I’ve also documented. Pretending either doesn’t exist would be advocacy, not science.”
The interviewer nods, then unexpectedly pivots.
“Sources show you and Ethan Cole had some... tense interactions during your time on board on of his hips. Has your professional opinion of him changed through this process?”
The question allows just enough wiggle room to avoid or acknowledge our personal relationship, depending on my answer.
I think of Ethan watching from my apartment, of our agreement about transparency if directly asked.
“Mr. Cole and I approached working together with different professional perspectives but shared goals,” I respond. “Through the process, we found more common ground than either of us expected.”
“Common ground?” the interviewer probes, sensing a story.
“I continue to evaluate Cole Tech’s environmental impact, and he continues to balance corporate interests with sustainability. The difference now is that we do it by talking, rather than throwing drinks at one another.”
It’s not a full disclosure of our relationship status, but it’s truthful enough. The interviewer wants to push it further but respects my boundaries, returning to specific findings for the rest of the segment.
When I return to my apartment, Ethan greets me with a slow applause. “Well don, you did not let him bait you at all.”
“Not too revealing?” I ask, kicking off my heels with relief.
“Perfect,” he assures me, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “I’m impressed.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. It’s from Richard:
Bloomberg still wants the joint interview. They’ve seen the CNBC segment and are even more interested in the “professional antagonists finding common ground” angle. Tomorrow at 3PM?
I show Ethan the message, searching his face for his reaction. “What do you think? After my ‘personal connection’ comment, this interview will confirm we’re together.”
“I think,” he says, “that I’m ready if you are.”
“It will complicate things,” I warn, though I’m already leaning toward acceptance. “I don’t want it ruin this, us. What we have.”
“It won’t,” he says.
“Let’s do the interview,” I decide.
The smile that transforms his face tells me this was the right choice. “Complete honesty,” he agrees. “Though perhaps omitting certain specific details about waste management system inspections that led to shower activities.”
“Obviously,” I laugh. “Some research is private.”
“Speaking of private...” He pulls me closer, hands settling at my waist.
Later, as evening falls and we’re lying together on my couch with takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, my phone buzzes with another text from Zoe:
Just saw your CNBC interview. “Personal connection” eh? Might as well have worn a sign saying, “I’m sleeping with the CEO.” Call me tomorrow with details on how you’re handling the Bloomberg interview. PS: You looked fantastic in that blazer.
I show Ethan the message, laughing at her directness. “My subtle comment wasn’t as subtle as I thought.”
“To be fair, Zoe already knows the truth,” he points out. “She’s primed to read between the lines.”
“True.” I set the phone aside, settling back against his chest. “Are you ready for tomorrow? Once we do this interview, there’s no going back.”
“I’m more than ready,” he says, his arms tightening around me.
“What are you thinking about?” Ethan asks, noticing my contemplative silence.
“How completely unpredictable life can be,” I reply. “And how sometimes, the most valuable discoveries come from experiments gone completely wrong.”
“Like an environmental assessment that leads to how shower sex on a cruise ship?”
“Exactly like that,” I agree, settling more comfortably against him.