Waiting For Ethan by Diane Barnes Page A

a desk, the TechVisions logo illuminated on a backdrop behind him, explaining in precise detail why the market is performing the way it is. I don’t understand the media’s fascination with him. I get impatient listening to him because he speaks so slowly, each word deliberately chosen.
    Anyway, Cooper has a lot of influence in the company. He’s not someone you want mad at you.
    â€œWhat are you writing to Cooper?” I ask.
    Luci looks over at me. “Just asking if he has a problem with my editing.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you return my calls this weekend?” I ask. “I have news. Big news.”
    Luci finishes typing before looking up. “Guess who else called me this weekend?”
    I shrug.
    â€œKip.” I’ll never understand how Luci is able to convey so much disdain with a three-letter name. “He got engaged and apparently couldn’t wait to tell me.” Her voice cracks.
    This is the most emotion Luci has shown about Kip since her divorce, and I’m not sure what to say. Sorry? No, that doesn’t sound like nearly enough. “I, Luci, I’m sorry.”
    She sniffs. “I knew it was going to happen eventually. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
    I stand and take a step toward Luci’s desk, intending to hug her.
    She shoots me a look. “Sit down.”
    As I return to my seat, Cooper appears in our doorway. Luci and I stare without speaking as he enters our office and leans against the wall between our two desks. Cooper never visits. He sits on the fourth floor in the heart of Mahogany Row with all the other executives at TechVisions. His office is bigger than my apartment. The bathroom stall–sized office that Luci and I share is on the first floor, otherwise known as the basement, sandwiched between the loading dock and the mail room. That Cooper’s down here standing in our office is disorienting enough, but that he’s down here looking, well, almost handsome, is making me dizzy.
    â€œDid you get a haircut?” Luci asks.
    Clearly Cooper has not had a haircut in months. His dark hair, which is usually cut close to his head military recruit–style, is actually long enough so that it curls. I didn’t notice this on Thursday because he was wearing a ski hat.
    Cooper runs his hand over the top of his head. “No. Haven’t had time for a cut. Been traveling a lot.”
    â€œIt looks good.” The words slip out before I have time to think about to whom I am saying them. Luci whirls around to face me and studies me silently with her head cocked.
    I glance at Cooper. He immediately looks away. Small red circles appear on his cheeks. I wish I came with a Rewind button or there was a way to edit words once they’d been spoken. Cooper clears his throat and turns his attention to Luci. “I received your e-mail. It appears as if I’ve unintentionally offended you.” He should come with a Fast-Forward button because he pauses after every word, like there’s a period there. “I apologize. I think both you and Gina do an admirable job editing my research. I just believe it would be more efficient if the same person always edited it so that you can build a subject-matter expertise on the market and reduce the number of questions you ask.”
    Luci smiles at me. I know that smile; it makes me dread what her next words will be. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want Gina to edit your research?”
    Cooper shifts his weight from leg to leg. “Yes.”
    â€œThere’s no other reason?” Luci continues.
    â€œWhat other reason would there be?” Cooper asks.
    â€œI don’t know.” Luci pauses to study her nails. “Maybe you want to work closely with Gina so that you can”—she looks up from her nails and smiles at Cooper. I think about crawling under my desk—“get to know her better.” She winks at Cooper.
    Cooper