Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
ETHAN
ONE LAST CONFRONTATION
“... a
nd joining us today are Ethan Cole, CEO of Cole Tech Industries, and Dr. Harper Bennett, environmental scientist and author of the recently published assessment of Cole Tech’s cruise operations. Thank you both for being here.”
The Bloomberg studio lights are uncomfortably hot, but I maintain my composure as Harper and I sit side by side for what will undoubtedly be the most personally revealing interview of my life.
“Thank you for having us,” I reply, hyper-aware of Harper beside me in another gorgeous outfit—navy this time, her auburn hair framing her face in soft waves. She looks confident, professional, and captivating.
“Dr. Bennett, your latest piece has generated a lot of attention for its unusually balanced approach,” the interviewer begins. “What led to this change in methodology?”
Harper sits straighter “My goal was to document what I observed—both the concerning practices and the conservation efforts. Anything less would undermine the integrity of the work.”
I watch her. Even knowing what’s coming—the inevitable pivot to our personal relationship—I’m struck by her confidence.
“Mr. Cole, this level of transparency is unusual for a corporation of Cole Tech’s size. What prompted you to open your operations to such thorough external scrutiny?”
“We have nothing to hide,” I answer. “Dr. Bennett’s reputation for the truth and uncompromising standards made her the ideal person to show that. We wanted insight, not a public relations exercise.”
“Even knowing her history of criticizing Cole Tech’s environmental practices?” the interviewer probes.
“Especially because of that,” I acknowledge with a small smile. “We knew she wouldn’t go easy on us.”
The interviewer nods, then comes the pivot we’ve been expecting.
“Reports suggest your relationship got more personal during this process. Dr. Bennett, in your CNBC interview yesterday, you mentioned developing a ‘personal connection’ with Mr. Cole. Could you elaborate on how your interaction changed from your initial, rather famous confrontation to your current collaboration?”
Here it is—the moment of truth. Harper and I discussed this last night, agreeing on complete honesty without unnecessary details. Still, I hold my breath as Harper comes up with her response.
“I thought Cole Tech was trying to influence my findings, and not knowing Mr. Cole I was antagonistic,” she begins with a hint of a smile. “I had preconceptions about Mr., and he had preconceptions about me. The process of working together helped us to move beyond those assumptions.”
“And working together led to...?” the interviewer pushes.
Harper glances at me before continuing. “It led to us working together, without tossing drinks in faces.”
“Mr. Cole, would you characterize your current relationship with Dr. Bennett as only professional?” The question is direct, as we knew it would be.
“No, I wouldn’t,” I reply. “But I don’t think my current relationship with Dr. Bennet is relevant, do you?”
There—it’s done. Not stating “we’re dating” but clear enough that no one could misinterpret.
“To clarify,” the interviewer keeps going, “you and Dr. Bennett are involved romantically, even though she published this critical assessment of your company?”
Harper takes this question, as we’d agreed. “Yes, we are. My job is to call out corporations, but they are corporations, Mr. Cole is one man in a much bigger organization.”
“Wasn’t there concern about conflict of interest?”
“Of course,” I interject. “But there is no conflict, just nosy people looking for some scandal.”
“If anything,” Harper adds, “our personal connection made me much harder on Cole Tech than any other organization.”
By the time the interview concludes, we’ve accomplished what we intended, an honest acknowledgment of our relationship.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Harper murmurs as we’re escorted from the studio, microphones removed.
“You were brilliant,” I tell her
“We make a good team,” she says with a small smile. “Even when publicly confessing to our complicated relationship.”
Outside the studio, my driver waits with the car. As we settle into the back seat, I allow myself to relax, loosening my tie with a sigh of relief.
“So,” I say as the car pulls into Manhattan traffic, “we’re officially official.”
“But is it on Facebook?” Harper checks her phone, which has been buzzing since we left the studio. “Zoe has already sent seventeen texts, ranging from congratulatory to mildly scandalized. My publisher wants a meeting tomorrow to discuss ‘leveraging the revelation for maximum marketing impact,’ which sounds ominous.”
“Alex says that Cole Tech’s stock is up two points,” I say, checking my own messages. “Apparently, the market approves of me having a girlfriend.”
“Of course it does,” Harper says with an eye roll that doesn’t quite hide her amusement. “Everything ultimately serves the corporate interests.”
“Not everything,” I correct her gently, taking her hand now that we’re in private. “Some things exist outside of stock prices and corporate strategy.”
The look she gives me contains a warmth that makes my chest tighten. “Such as?”
“Such as this,” I say. “Us.”
Her phone buzzes again, interrupting the moment. She glances at it and sighs. “My department chair. Probably wondering about the professional implications of dating a corporate CEO I’ve bashed for years.”
“Any regrets yet?”
“None,” she says.
The car pulls up outside my apartment building. “Stay with me tonight?” I ask, though Harper has spent more nights at my place than her own in recent weeks. “We can order in, avoid the social media, and news.”
“Avoidance doesn’t seem like your usual game plan,” she teases.
The moment the elevator doors close, I pull her against me, her arms winding around my neck as she rises on tiptoes to meet my kiss.
She silences me with a kiss that goes from playful to heated, her hands pushing my shirt off impatiently. I match her urgency, making quick work of her blouse and the sensible bra beneath, eager to feel her skin against mine.
There’s a particular pleasure in knowing how to touch her to elicit that sharp intake of breath, precisely where to kiss to make her fingers tighten in my hair, just how much pressure makes her whisper my name in that tone that drives me wild.
“Bed,” she gasps as my mouth finds the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Now, Ethan.”
I listen, backing her toward the mattress without breaking contact. When her knees hit the edge, she pulls me down with her. Clothes disappear until there are no barriers between us.
“I need you,” she breathes against my mouth, legs parting in invitation.
“So, demanding,” I tease, though I’m already positioning myself between her thighs. She’s so wet, and ready, I push forward, watching her face as I fill her completely.
The sight of Harper beneath my—lips parted, cheeks flushed with desire—never fails to take my breath away. For a suspended moment, we are still, connected in the most intimate way possible.
“Move,” she commands, hips rising to emphasize her point.
I obey with a laugh that transforms into a groan as she tightens around me.
Our rhythm builds quickly, urgency overtaking finesse after the buildup of the interview and publicly claiming her as mine. Harper’s legs wrap around my waist, changing the angle in a way that makes us both moan. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, urging me deeper, faster.
“Ethan,” she breathes, the sound of my name on her lips pushing me closer to the edge. “Right there—don’t stop?—”
“You feel so good,” I say, reaching between us to where our bodies join, finding her clit, knowing how sensitive she is. “Come for me, Harper.”
She does, back arching, my name a cry on her lips as she tightens around me. The sight of her release triggers my own, pleasure jolting through me as I follow her over the edge. “I love you.” I say.
Then I wait, heart hammering in my chest, giving her space to process and respond.
“I love you too,” she says finally. “Which is ridiculous given our history and professional complications, yet undeniable.”
Relief and joy wash through me. I pull her down for a kiss that tries to convey the depth of emotion I feel knowing she loves me.
“Only you,” I murmur against her lips, “could make that sound romantic.”
“It is romantic,” she insists.
“Okay...” I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Very romantic.”
“Mock all you want,” she says, settling back against my chest. “But loving you is the least logical conclusion I’ve reached in my life.”
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, catching me watching her.
“How remarkably right this feels,” I admit. “You, here. Us together, going public with our relationship.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she warns.
“Not flattery,” I correct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.