3 comments/ 7052 views/ 6 favorites Dissertation Offense/Defense By: Jet_Lagged This love story has a long build-up before things get heated. Please be patient. I've always found that having a stronger sense of who the characters are makes for a more intimate experience when the fireworks finally happen. Enjoy. Dissertation Offense/Defense "This isn't a good idea. Stop smiling, Sanjit. I really don't think this is going to work. I could count on one hand the number of times that I've agreed with Ethan and on top of that, he's a class-A jerk. Three years of classes, another year of being a TA with him and..." "Rachel. Insight and understanding are not vegetables harvested by a lazy farmer." Rachel pursed her lips to suppress a sharp response. After almost a decade of working with Professor Rajagopalan, she no longer processed his mini allegories or endless analogies as words. She'd come to accept his speech patterns in a more fluid form of gestalt. Even the almost comical sing-songy, "veg-a-ta-bals" failed to soften her resolve. Had she been a bit less intense of an individual, Rachel would have long-since noticed that Sanjit would lean more heavily on his native accent with good-natured humor whenever her temper got the best of her. Sanjit continued, "Ethan most certainly sees the world with different eyes than you and that is exactly why you shall partner with him. I must be blessed to have the opportunity to watch a pair of strong minds as they strive for answers on questions that society must consider. Ah, my luck to be advising both of your dissertations and each on such similar topics. A nest full of eggs, but what kind of birds will hatch?" "I wouldn't say that the topics are the same. In fact, they're antithetical. Ethan wants to package the world's data and sell it. He ignores the heart of the issue that people want their data to be private. He's dismissive of the essential historical context that demonstrates the need for constraining corporate actions in the present in order to avoid the inevitable wanton abuse by government regimes of the future." Rachel's eyes were bright with the passion of her argument. The silver-haired professor looked fondly at the young woman whom he'd watch grow in so many ways. She had started in the MBA program as an ideological 23-year old and was now an equally ideological, if not significantly more informed, 29-year old about to start her doctoral dissertation. Were he her father, he would be both proud and so very interested in seeing such a girl find the right person to share her life with. Sanjit had a wry thought about how his own mother and father would have dealt with Rachel. He reached for his tea that had cooled enough to sip and looked out at the typical red brick buildings of the George Washington University campus in Georgetown. He said, "Yes, yes. But a girl who walks through the woods and only comments on the roots of the trees is not so much noticing the many-colored birds above her." Rachel laughed. "Okay, that wasn't particularly subtle. I get it, but I don't have to like it." ** Ethan stripped off his windbreaker and long-sleeved compression shirt. Now that he was back in his apartment, the exertion of his run was catching up to him without the early Spring, chill breeze from Lake Michigan. Sweat beaded on his forehead and a rivulet skirted his nose before plopping on the hardwood floor. His muscles felt loose rather than exhausted which was a sign that his workout had been lighter than usual. After punching on the power of the espresso machine to let it warm up, he wandered over to his laptop and cracked the lid to bring the screen back to life. A pernicious addiction to email still lingered with him even though it had been a years since he'd been in the 'real world' as the academics called it. He could always tell which students hadn't spent time working prior to heading into business school. The angst expressed over twenty or thirty emails in an inbox was a pathetic clue about some student's lack of workplace experience. The mail at the top of his queue was from his financial planner. Ethan had a number of decisions to make now that the final tranche of money from the acquisition had come through. One outstanding idea, a shealthy sprinkle of good luck, four years of horrifically rigorous work, the termination of a friendship that he'd imagined was unbreakable, subtract one fiancé and the result was that little Zenttara, Inc. sold for forty seven million. That gave his investors a 600% return on their money and left the three principals with enough to make sure that funding their retirement was never going to be a problem. There were no private jets or penthouse flats in New York for him, but Ethan had a beautiful condo and the freedom to choose how to spend his days. Going back to school after a windfall like that was not what most people would have done. His two partners had become serial entrepreneurs who were chain smoking start-ups. Paul could fall off a cliff as far as Ethan was concerned, but it was good to see that Liz was enjoying the thrill of the next fight. As for Selma, his ex-fiancé, she could go fuck herself. Ethan unlaced his shoes and set them aside before sifting through the rest of the correspondence. When he got to Rajagopalan's mail, he blew a long-suffering sigh. The phraseology of the mail was pure Sanjit, but the implications were going to make life more difficult. "Liberal use of manure enriches soil..." was his favorite line from the mail as there was no shortage of bullshit he was going to have to put up with from Rachel. So much for pure independence as he worked on his dissertation. The espresso machine emitted a satisfyingly industrial sound as it masticated the beans before applying pressurized hot water to extract the flavors that signaled the start of each day. The smell of the crushed beans lingered in the kitchen long after the grinding and hissing had ceased. Ethan grabbed the mug and wandered down the hall to get showered and changed. He'd known Rachel Aberlieb during the three years of doctoral course work at the GWU Business School when he'd still been living in D.C. She'd already been at the school for a number of years having completed her MBA and directly matriculated into the PhD program. She was the classic academic, ivory tower, idealist that made him nutty. Crazy-bright, annoyingly well-informed, and had never had to worry about making payroll or managing cash flow to keep the lights on and the doors open for another month. She'd never put in the sweat equity to convince an investor to lay down a few million based solely on roughly estimated numbers and a belief that you have what it takes to make a business work. The two of them had been like oil on water and there had been endless conflict that he looked back on with some regret. She'd managed to bring out aspects of his personality that he didn't much care for. She was pretty, but so damn opinionated that he'd long-since given up on thinking about her as anything other than a source of near-constant debates. Oh, well. At least the coffee was good. ** "Symposium on Globalized Data" was printed in bold, blue print next to a stereotypical logo of a globe with the continents made up of binary code. The garish vinyl sign hung above two female undergrads who looked awkward in their attempt to wear "business formal" clothes. The young ladies were manning a registration table armed with highlighters, a list of attendees and an ironic stack of printed versions of the research being presented at the conference. Ethan was waiting in line, musing on a symposium about the management of electronic data that was producing unneeded paper when Rachel approached. The ever-present Nalgene water bottle in one hand, her phone in the other and an over-stuffed shoulder bag banging against her hip. Ethan's jaw clenched in anticipation of the conversation. Rachel wanted to start things off with Ethan on a positive note even if she deplored the idea of working with him. She'd promised Rajagopalan that she would at least try. She and Ethan hadn't seen each other since he'd moved to Chicago at the end of the previous school year and she was almost certain that by the end of the day, she wouldn't feel any better about him. Yet like most hard things in life, she felt it was best to tackle it head-on. "Hey, Ethan. When did you get into town?" "Oh. Rachel. I got in on Saturday to catch up with Phil and Ling. I hadn't met the baby yet." Rachel's expression softened and an uncomplicated smile emerged at the mention of Ruby. "Yeah, Ruby is adorable. I've been over there a bunch helping Ling keep up with the laundry and whatnot. Really it's an excuse to see the baby, but I'd like to think I've been making Ling's life easier." Rachel shifted the heavy shoulder bag that had her laptop and sundry documents stuffed into it. "Did they tell you about the big move?" "Yeah, it's going to be a hell of an experience." Ethan was slightly taken aback by Rachel's friendliness. "The baby'll adapt to everything easier than they will. I wouldn't want to live in Dubai, but the offer was too good for Phil to pass up." Ethan noticed that Rachel had new glasses. The lenses were smallish rectangles surrounded by deep green, slightly blocky frames. He had to admit they looked good on her but, as usual, the rest of her baggy clothes did nothing to enhance her appearance. She was most definitely not high maintenance. "So are we going to find time to chat today or tomorrow? I think both of us probably gave Sanjit the same response, but if we don't wade into things, he's going to get on us." Ethan could produce a near perfect impression of the old professor. "Plow horses who do not take to the yoke are likely to end up as glue." Rachel laughed at the impression. But the laughter was forced as she tried to make light of the stress underlying the conversation. She made a failed attempt at humor, "Yes, but only if you acknowledge up-front that I'm right. That'll make everything easier." Her throat tightened involuntarily as she realized how poorly she'd masked her distaste of working with Ethan. "Riiiight. How about we stipulate that Rajagopalan is the one who's right and we're both investigating alternative options." Ethan was wary of getting things off to a poor start. He knew Rachel had been trying to lighten the mood, but the negative tension was palpable to both. He gestured toward the conference room. "This is supposed to wrap-up at 4:30, what do you say to dinner at 7:30 and we can ask the waiter to keep all knives off the table." "That'll work." She didn't acknowledge Ethan's more adept attempt to lighten the mood. She was glad that he'd offered the time which showed he was at least going to make a real attempt. Rachel was thankful that there'd be time to hit the hotel gym before dinner. She'd try to bleed off energy in hopes of avoiding unnecessary once they got talking about their dissertations. "Lobby at 7:30. See you then." She turned and moved into the crowd that was heading into the conference room. Biological programming, or what most would call 'being a guy,' resulted in Ethan noticing that Rachel's skirt was pulled tight across her backside by the weight of the bag at her hip. She wasn't particularly tall and she was slight. There was a visually pleasing curve revealed through the nondescript fabric. "Name please. Sir." A curt voice cut into his absent reverie. Ethan's cheeks reddened slightly. He wondered if the girl behind the table had noticed where his attention had been drawn. It was going to be a long day. ** "The poor bastard didn't know what'd hit him. That's the last time he'll try to use Bertenson's or Melks' work to explain away anomalies based on a regression function like that." Ethan had left the conference and immediately changed for a workout. He was running on a treadmill next to another ex-classmate who was also working on a dissertation. "Colin, you've got to hand it to her. She knows her shit. I could almost hear a collective groan from all of the Colonials in the room when he tried to dismiss her point with that argument. Rajagopalan doesn't even go down that path anymore." Sweat had darkened the neckline of his shirt and he was ratcheting up the speed of the machine now that his legs were loose. He'd purposely set a later meeting time so the workout might get his head ready for what he now thought of as 'The Great Dinner Debate.' Colin briefly looked over at Ethan and said, "So I hear you're going to combine your research with Aberleib. You sure you're up for that? She's an amazing researcher, but the two of you have..." He thumped along for a few more steps trying to think of a way to capture the point, "er...your points of view aren't generally compatible." "You'd noticed, huh?" A grin sidled into Colin's expression. "You remember the seminar class with Professor Seldridge? I thought Aberleib was going throw shit at you that time you started doing a cost analysis on the fly with the numbers she'd proposed for her group's solution." This was not one of Ethan's favorite memories. Rachel had pissed him off even more than usual that day and he'd let his emotions get the better of him. He'd never normally set out to embarrass someone, but he succeeded in that forum. He'd dismantled her assumptions, projections and conclusions with cold precision that left Rachel scarlet and furious. They hadn't spoken for a few weeks and then, after that first blowup, their only meme had been arguments. Looking back on it, she'd been an easy target for him to vent other disappointments in his life. He replied, "Yeah, I do. But I'd rather not." Colin said, "You were unstoppable after that. I think you're the only one who consistently got the better of her." "Right." Ethan hit the up-tempo button five more times hoping to put himself into an anaerobic state so he wouldn't have to keep the conversation going. He really didn't like thinking about that day or his later behavior with Rachel. Thirty minutes later, he finally relented on the pace and slowed the belt to a fast walk for a cool down. He was drenched with sweat and Colin had already gone back to his room. As his breathing came under control, he became more aware of another set of feet pounding away on a treadmill. The wall of windows along which all the cardio equipment was arranged was divided in the middle by a large support pillar for the building. He let his treadmill come to a final stop and waited for his inner ear to stop playing tricks on him. The sense of forward motion passed and he stepped off to use some of the weight circuit equipment. He glanced quickly at the other runner and immediately averted his eyes so as not to be caught looking in the reflection of the window. Black running tights, a bright red jog bra and dark hair pulled back in a ponytail was all that he registered. His second surreptitious glance allowed him to admire the slender mid-section and the dimples in a toned lower back. While adjusting the weights on the lat pull-down machine, he focused more on the ass in the running tights. Distracting. He sat with his back to the runner and began his first set of reps. Using the mirror across from him, he took a longer look and was inwardly bemoaning how long it had been that he'd been with someone. The ponytail bobbed to the rhythm of her stride and he moved onto the chest press which unfortunately had an obstructed view. Just as he finished his third set, he noted that the treadmill's tone dropped to a whisper and then completely off. He came around the machine to find the girl bending to get a cup of water from the cooler. He toweled his head and wandered over to get some water as well -- maybe a little conversation could lead somewhere. Rachel turned and gave a startled yelp. "Oh. Hi." "Jesus...Rachel." Ethan was flabbergasted. The mental leap from 'hot' to 'Rachel' was so abrupt as to leave him temporarily addled. His first try at a response came out as a mélange of two or three words and he had to start a second time. "I had no idea..." "No idea what?" Her brow furrowed. "Ah...that you were...I mean a runner." Realization dawned on her that she was out of context for how she generally allowed people in her academic community to see her. She never ran on campus, always preferring to use her time on the road to be away from her daily work. Aside from the treasured time for thinking that running afforded her, she was following her father's advice about keeping professional and private lives separate. That thought was accompanied by an unexpected embarrassment from her exposed mid-section. She tried to casually wipe her face with her towel and then held it lightly in front of her. Ethan couldn't help but notice the tight fit of her top and the outline it had presented or how her running pants emphasized the shape of her hips. Her body was well-proportioned for someone her size. He forced himself to look her in the eye. "Seems like we had the same idea. After sitting all day, I was looking forward to getting the blood moving a little." She didn't want to admit to the fact that her eagerness to exercise was because of their upcoming dinner, and not in a good way. "Yeah. I was getting twitchy too. So, um...okay. I tell you what. Ah...I'll go get cleaned up and see you downstairs at 7." He could see that she was also a bit flustered by their unexpected encounter. "We'd said 7:30, but if you want to..." "No, no. Sorry. Right. 7:30. Okay -- see you then." She kept the towel where it was and was annoyed with herself that she'd gone for the door so quickly. He'd looked good with his hair tousled from the workout and she'd admired the strength in his forearms and hands. Shit...what was she thinking? Bad idea. Very bad idea. Ethan watched her go and when the door closed he said aloud, "Wow." Completely not what he expected. ** "I'll have the crab cakes to start and the wild mushroom pasta. Thanks." Rachel handed the menu to the waiter. Her nervous fidgeting resulted with her ankle knocking over the big blue water bottle that she'd brought down to the lobby out of habit. Silly to have it at a restaurant but she hadn't wanted to go back to her room to drop it off. She leaned down and stood it up behind the chair leg. "You sure you don't want some wine with dinner?" Ethan asked. After she declined, he ordered a glass of cabernet for himself and his dinner. "Right, round one. Where do we want to start?" Rachel really didn't want this to become a fight. She'd seethed about his embarrassing her in a second year class and it had colored her impression of him for years. Following that conflict, it seemed as if the two of them were always locking horns over one thing or another. His inflexibility had met her stubbornness with predicable results. Yet Ling, her closest friend from business school, was always trying to get Rachel to soften her opinion of Ethan. In some ways, the fact that 18-months had past since they last saw each other was making it a bit easier to be objective. Apart from his habit of disagreeing with her, he was a self-possessed guy who had a sharp mind. It seemed as if everyone else in the doctoral program liked him and the undergrads he worked with worshiped him. On top of that, all of the emails they'd traded over the past few weeks to figure out where they were going to meet to get their research lined up had been nothing but cordial. Also the image of him in the gym had unexpectedly lingered during her shower. Again...bad idea. Rachel said, "How about both of us try to drop the whole 'round one,' 'round two' stuff. If we're really going to work on this together I think we can't approach it like boxers. We both know that we fundamentally disagree on how data should be used." "Do we really know that?" Dissertation Offense/Defense Rachel gave an internal groan -- the door to conflict was being pried open. Unconsciously her shoulders set more squarely and she grabbed the corners of the table. "Yeah. I think we do. You want to sell people...sorry their data...in order to justify 'monetization of assets' while I'm committed to focusing on how we protect data to prevent abuse. I'd say that...oh, thank you..." She took a sip of the soda that had been placed in front of her. "I'd say that's pretty much opposed." Ethan grimaced. He needed to keep his temper in check. "Rachel. I'll drop the marshal language if you'll stop making gross assumptions." Her use of idealism as a cudgel was what had annoyed him so much during classes with her. "The fact that a modern, knowledge-based economy values data does not mean that I favor indiscriminate behavior. Hell, even if you assume I did, it wouldn't make sense. Economics 101 says that in order for something to have value it has to be scarce. Thus I would favor protecting data if for no other reason that I'd want to drive up its value before selling it. But I don't think that way. People say..." "Like hell you don't think that way. Does this sound familiar, 'Ethicists will wrap themselves in a self-righteous cloak woven from an idealistic dismissal of revenue opportunity and consumer acceptance.'? It seems to me th..." "Christ. I wrote that almost three years ago and...I can't believe you. Whatever you do, you should ignore the fact that the assignment was to write a position piece to be used in a debate format." Ethan was considering throwing in the towel on the whole thing. Sanjit would just have to live with disappointment. "Rachel. You can't honestly tell me that every line of text you wrote for course work represents personal opinion rather than meeting the requirements of an assignment. Shit, if that was the case I'll have to go dig up some of my high school work for you so you can get really pissed at me. Both of Rachel's palms were facing Ethan. She took a deep breath and said, "Okay...okay. You're right, I was making assumptions and those could be construed as aggressive." Ethan was still hot under the collar. "Construed my foot! More like just plain aggressive." "Fine. You're right." She took a long drink of her Diet Coke to collect her thoughts. She'd promised Rajagopalan that she'd try to make the arrangement work. "So how about if we start by talking through our general thesis? No assumptions about the other person's work, just our own. Is that fair?" Ethan nodded his assent. Her admission came as a surprise; maybe she'd mellowed a bit with time. "Fair enough. Chivalry dictates that ladies go first." "Lulling me into showing my hand, huh?" The wary expression on her face was so incongruous with the previous few minutes that he grinned. "Of course not. Would I do such a thing?" She wished the grin wasn't charming. She said, "Yes. But I'll let you get away with it this time." Her crab cakes arrived and she toyed with them for a moment while she got her thoughts in order. "As you know, I have a protectionist view of how data should be treated. I'd like to take a close look at what people really want or don't want when it comes to data. Most of the literature deals with personal data, but that is too constrained for what I think needs to be discussed." "Are you thinking about classifying data types? There tons of work already done on that angle." "Yeah, I know. I'll clearly have to do a full survey and then decide if an existing model can be used or not. Then I can build my research plans from there. I guess my basic point is that what people want and what they know about how data are being used are significantly out of sync. More than that, without adequate protections being put in place, the abuse..." "'Abuse' is pejorative don't you think? At least as assumptions go?" "...the abuse will likely continue to expand." Ethan had finished his garden salad and was considering Rachel carefully. He wondered if she used contacts for working out because the glasses were back on for their dinner. Her hair was still damp and it was leaving dark patterns on the shoulder of her shirt. Somehow she managed to hide herself in her clothes which he couldn't understand given what he'd seen a few hours earlier. It troubled him that he'd been so dismissive of her as a person. Clearly Ling and Phil were really close with her and that counted for a lot. Moreover Sanjit was a fierce judge of character and Ethan knew that the old man thought of Rachel more as a daughter than anything else. He said, "Well I can see why Sanjit pointed us at each other. Aside from the potential for a spectacle, I have the same need. No matter how anyone feels about the subject, data is being heavily monetized today. It's certainly possible that some traditional business models will fail in favor of data monetization but if we don't understand how social and legal factors apply, then we're going to have a hard time establishing stability that can spark further investment in innovation. So I have to start with a discussion of what kinds of data there are, how it's being used, how people feel about it and whether they even understand it before breaking into the world of business models etc." Rachel smiled thinking of Sanjit. "Crap! The old manipulator was right as usual. Do you suppose we're going to have to tell him?" Ethan broke into his heavily-accented impression of their mutual friend once again. "The simple people of a village said that Deepak was wise because he said the sun will rise in the East every single day. The people also said that Deepak was wise because he said the sun would set in the West every single day. But Deepak knew that observing the obvious did not make him wise, it just made him right." She laughed. ** The evening had steadily cooled since the mild afternoon and the walk back from dinner was chilly for Rachel. She'd been warm from her exercise and shower before dinner, but now her lack of a sweater or jacket was noticeable. The Nalgene bottle was empty, but having to keep her hand out of her Jeans pocket meant that it was cold as well. She was oddly pleased with the evening. They' managed to talk about their field of mutual interest without arguing. More than that, the whole thing had ended up feeling oddly like a date rather than a meeting and she was puzzled by that. There was no way that he intended anything but a business meeting and she certainly was expecting nothing more. But their discussion on the way back had strayed into unfamiliar territory for them. She'd never talked to him about his life before GW. She knew the scuttlebutt that he had made a killing, but she really didn't know much about him. Now she knew that he'd finished his undergraduate in Atlanta and his MBA at Kellogg. They hadn't touched on anything really personal, but she understand why he had moved back to Chicago. When they got to the hotel, the lobby was warm by comparison to the evening air. Unfortunately the elevator retained nothing of that warmth, rather it seemed that the air conditioner was still cranked on full force. "What floor?" She asked him as the doors slid shut. "15. So what time do things get started tomorrow?" "I believe we have to be down there around 9:30 for a 10 start." Ethan shook his head. "Academia runs on a different clock from the rest of the world." "There are bunch of people who flew in from the West Coast and I think the organizer was trying to be thoughtful about..." The elevator gave a shudder and ground to a halt. Rachel looked up at the ceiling and then frowned. There was an additional, unnerving metallic clanking noise. "What the hell was that?" "Whatever it was, it didn't sound too good." Ethan punched a few buttons. He pushed in the red Emergency Stop button which did nothing more than start a buzzer which only stopped when he pulled it back out. "Interesting. That's obnoxious. Let's see if I can get someone on this." He'd opened a metal cover that hid a heavy black plastic phone. He waited for a moment and then said, "Yeah, uh, hi there. There's two of us in an elevator that seems to be stopped. Uh huh. Maybe a minute now." He listened for a bit. "Alright, thanks. We'll be patient." Rachel had crossed her arms and she had a concerned look. "What'd they say?" "He wanted to know if everyone was okay and that they were aware of the situation. They're going to..." The fan stopped whirring and the lights went out to be replaced by blue-ish emergency LEDs. "...reset the system which will take a few minutes." Rachel wasn't happy. Aside from being cold, she really needed to pee. The two of them stood in the semi-darkness, not knowing what to say, waiting for something to happen. Twenty-five minutes crept by with glacial deliberateness so that when the phone finally rang, they both gave a start. Ethan answered the phone. "Yeah, hi again. Ethan. ...and you are? Okay Vince, what's the story?" He listened and then asked, "There's nothing you can do? How about prying open the doors and getting us..." He listened again. "Well that sucks. Okay please call when you know something more." He hung up. "It's going to be a while. Apparently something fried on the control system and we're stopped between floors in a way that they can't easily get us. He said if it gets serious they can come in through the ceiling but they'll reserve that for a last resort." Rachel told herself not to think about her bladder. She wanted to give Vince a piece of her mind and tell him to get them out through the ceiling, or wall, or whatever, but just do it quickly. Yet she knew she had to stay calm. "Wait. Between floors is ridiculous. They should be able to get us from half a door-height on either side of a floor, right?" Ethan shook his head, "Nope. Apparently the floor with the ballrooms takes up two floors and..." "Shit." Rachel's good mood had ebbed away. "This is ridiculous." "Yeah, you said it. Looks like we just have to wait it out." Ethan noticed that she was using her free hand to rub her opposite arm. The Nalgene bottle preventing her from using both hands. "Here..." He took the bottle from her and set it on the ground and then offered his coat. "Put this on." After triple-checking that he was sure, she accepted the jacket and gratefully shrugged into the sleeves that were still warm from his arms. One of two problems was solved, but her bladder was quickly becoming a top priority. She began pacing back and forth. Ethan took a seat against the wall nearest the phone. He looked at her in his jacket and was surprised by how much he liked the image. "You know it might be a bit easier of a wait if you didn't try to run a marathon in here?" "What? No, I'm just preoccupied." Rachel decided to try to distract herself. She knew sitting was only going to make the pressure worse, so she leaned against the wall opposite from Ethan. Minutes ticked by before she finally spoke. "Why'd you go back to school? I mean people all said that you'd had a really successful company. Most people come back for a degree, especially something in IT Management, as a way to start or re-start a career not end it." Ethan tilted his head back until it rested on the wall. "I hadn't thought of my career as finished, maybe derailed is more like it. Yeah, the company was a success. But I wasn't willing to stay on after the acquisition and be relegated to a program manager instead of being the exec in charge. I kind of got screwed in the deal by my oldest friend and it left me a little lost I guess. So some time away from the corporate game seemed like a good plan and all the better if that time gave me some tools to avoid getting rogered in the future." Rachel realized that she was approaching the point of no return. Her gut was spamming and she'd die of embarrassment if she soiled herself in front of Ethan. Damn it, she was going to be embarrassed no matter what. Tears of frustration began form at the corners of her eyes. It became increasingly clear that she was distressed. Ethan mistook her behavior for claustrophobia or concern over the failed elevator. "Hey, hey. What's going on?" He got up but didn't approach for fear that closing the distance to her would only exacerbate her anxiety. "We're going to be fine. The hotel has experts working on the problem. There's nothing to be scared of." "I'm not scared, I'm about to burst -- between the water after my workout and the diet cokes at dinner..." Wow, had he misread the situation. He could see the panic in her eyes and knew that she wasn't kidding. He looked down at the big blue bottle on the floor. Looked at her and pointed at it. Rachel wanted to scream it was so humiliating. "No...no way!" Ethan realized there simply wasn't anything he could say that was going to help. There was only one thing he could do. He turned and faced the wall. Panic surged in Rachel as she realized she might not even hold it long enough to use the bottle. "Shit!" She clawed at her jeans and jammed her thumbs under the elastic of her panties before pushing both to her ankles. She fumbled with the bottle, unscrewing it as fast as she could. Thank god the opening was so wide. She only partially squatted and jammed the mouth of the bottle up to her crotch. Sweet release. Panicked urgency abated and was instantly replaced with the horror of the situation. The hissing spray sounded like a fire hose in the cramped space and was succeeded by the pungent, ammonia-ish odor of her urine. She was bare below her waist in a compromised position and Ethan stood motionless not more than two feet away. The moment she was done she screwed the top on tightly and unceremoniously hoisted her clothes back into place. Had the lights been on, her face would have fairly glowed with embarrassment. She set the bottle next the wall and sat with it behind her as if hiding the evidence could erase the last few minutes. She stared at the floor. Ethan waited another few minutes and then returned to the spot where he'd been sitting before. He intuited that making any sort of wise-ass comment wasn't a good plan. He could see the flush of her cheeks and knew her to be a proud woman. It was simply best to let the whole thing go. He said, "Do you plan to teach after you finish up the doctorate?" She nodded. "Rachel. Don't worry about it. These things happen." She didn't nod or react and he dropped any attempt to speak, figuring that she would begin when she was ready. After a few minutes, the phone broke the silence. Ethan picked up the receiver. "Vince -- do you have good news for us? Great. Uh, yeah. I'm in 1803 and Ms. Aberleib is in 15..." Ethan looked over at Rachel. Rachel said "1526" in a flat tone. "1526. Okay, I'll let her know. Thanks for the call." Ethan hung up again and turned to Rachel. "Should be only a minute or so more. They are going to comp our rooms and tomorrow's meals are on them." Just then the lights came on and the elevator gave a lurch. A few moments of awkward silence later it stopped at the 4th floor. Rachel grabbed the bottle and mumbled a quick good night. She bolted for the stairwell and left Ethan standing in foyer. He figured he'd see the jacket eventually and pressed the up elevator button until a different car opened up for him. So much for an easy start to the research. ** The persistent tone of an incoming Skype call interrupted Rachel's train of thought. "Crap." Was all she could say when she realized that it was time for her scheduled call with Ethan. She'd fled the conference after her complete mortification following the dinner with Ethan. Now she was doubly embarrassed as it was ridiculous that she should have let that situation affect her so much. Ethan had been an absolute gentleman. He'd dealt with the situation with as much class as possible. After briefly considering ignoring the call, she answered. "Hey, Ethan." She had to suppress a smile when she saw him. He was sitting on what looked like a porch or deck. She was looking up at him from a laptop-based camera. Summer looked good on him. He was in a well-worn t-shirt and the faded blue fabric complemented his tan skin. He hadn't shaved in a few days and while a cliché, it gave him a rugged look that she liked. "Rachel. I'm glad we could make this time work." Ethan had reverted to business mode with Rachel. After seeing her in the gym and then having what he had thought was an enjoyable dinner, everything went to hell. The situation in the elevator had thrown cold water on any headway they'd made from the animosity of their days in class together. They'd only communicated by email since that day and had traded a number of source materials and data sets. But he knew that they had to talk more consistently if they were going to get any results so he'd pushed for the Skype call. He jumped right into work mode. "Thanks for sending over the Tradle and Crabtree paper. I st..." "Ethan. Sorry, but I need to get something off my chest. I really owe you an apology. The last time we saw each other didn't end well and it was entirely my fault." The apology had caught Ethan off-guard. "Er. Look, Rachel. Seriously that wasn't a big deal." Rachel ran her fingers through her hair. "No, that's true but I made it more of a thing than it needed to be and it's irked me since then. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed by what I had to do on the elevator or how I reacted to it. On top of it all, you were a total gentleman about it and then I was...I was childish." This was a side of Rachel that was new to Ethan. Apologies were not something frequently heard from her. "Okay." He had a feeling that she needed him to accept what she was saying. "I appreciate your saying something." "Thanks, Ethan." Rachel gave a nod and sat up a bit straighter to signal she was ready to work. "So what did you think of Tradle? I wasn't expecting much from them but there was some good work in there." Ethan was pleased that things seemed to be back on-track a bit. "Yeah, agreed. I think they could have been more specific about their choice to set aside traditional security practices in favor of privacy controls, but it was helpful for what you mentioned in your mail." The conversation became steadily more technical in nature and Rachel's comfort level increased. She liked to move while thinking and was constantly getting up and walking around her living room. Ethan, who was content to lounge on his deck, was distracted though she had no idea she was the cause. The summer Sunday morning apparently had a relaxed dress code. It wasn't until she got up that he noticed what she had on, or more to the point, what she didn't. Rachel was in a summer dress. It was obviously a light fabric and loose fitting so she could bear the heat of her apartment. D.C. summers are notoriously humid and unpleasant and he could easily guess that her meager budget did not include air conditioning. Her breasts had a pleasing lift to them and the dress did justice to the outline of her nipple. After a few minutes he decided that his favorite vantage point was when she would present her profile to him. The dress was cheap and flimsy, but her figure was complemented by it nonetheless. "Hey...did we lose audio or something?" Ethan forced himself to replay in his mind what he'd just heard her say. "Sorry, yeah the audio quality dipped there for a moment." Of course there was no such problem, he was not paying attention to the task at hand. "Can you repeat the question?" "I was talking about the timing of our putting a survey in the field. We have budget for three separate passes and I want to make sure we don't waste our opportunities." "I agree. What about doing two in the fall and then waiting a few months and doing two more in the spring. That way we can get similar sample sizes for each set." Dissertation Offense/Defense Rachel looked puzzled. "We're not going to be able to do that. The research grant only covers three passes that will get us enough of a sample to meet our plus/minus targets." Ethan had a sense he was on shaky ground, but he wanted to make sure their research was thorough. "I know, but we can work around that." Frustration was beginning to replace puzzlement for Rachel. "What do you mean, 'work around' it? I don't have the time to get more grant funds. I don't know about you, but I have to get my dissertation completed in 18 months or I run out of..." Her face redden. "...of funds. Getting another grant would be a half-year minimum with no guarantee we'd get it and that means I couldn't be looking at data until..." There was no way for Ethan to talk around the issue. "I'll cover it. Don't worry, we'll stay on track but we need the data." "I can't let you do that. Ethan we're talking about 50 or 60 grand. No. There's no way....I couldn't ever...no. Let's stick with the three and..." "Rachel. There's no way for me to say this without seeming like a complete ass, but it's not a problem. You don't owe me anything and we both need the data. Remember when you asked me about my company...well let's just say that the study will be funded by the now defunct Zenttara education outreach campaign." Growing up in a household of two academics had conditioned Rachel to accept that the world was full of haves and have-nots. After a decade of academic pursuits of her own, she was firmly entrenched in the have-not camp. The university stipend and odds and ends she could pick up amounted to just enough to keep the lights on and plenty of ramen noodles on hand. 50-thousand dollars was a fantasy. It was a sum so completely out of her reach as to be a farce. She refused to be a charity case. Yet her desire to get the data tugged in the opposite direction. He was volunteering the funds and it would really be for his benefit as well as hers. The Skype video quality was good, but not so good that he could get a read on her eyes. She'd gone silent and was fidgeting with her pen. She said, "You're sure about this? It's something you're going to do for yourself?" Ethan sighed with relief, she's just shown him how to frame his decision so it wouldn't violate her pride. "I would be doing this with or without your participation. In fact, had I not been working with you I wouldn't have the grant money at all and would have self-funded all of my surveys." Rachel chewed on her lip and then said, "Okay then." She got up and wandered over to her window and was quiet for a moment. She was thinking about her father and what he would've said. He'd been a man of deep passions. Pride, intellectual curiosity, music, politics but never business. What would he have said about accepting this gift? She made her decision and came back to her desk. "Fine, we'll add the fourth." She leaned over the desk to grab her mouse so she could end the call. With her other hand she was writing notes on a pad of paper. "We'll talk on Tuesday and nail down the first solid draft of the questions. In the meantime, I'll also talk to the Grant Office and see if there is any way we can avoid having you spend the money if we can. Sound good?" Ethan was speechless. Rachel's camera was mounted on the top of her screen and was currently giving him an unfettered view down the neckline of her dress. Her face was mostly out of the frame which meant that her right breast took up the center of the image. The smooth, graceful line of her collar bone led his eye toward the slightly pointed breast as the extension of her right arm combined with the effects of gravity on the malleable skin. "Yeah. Good." He said distractedly. "Great. Talk to you Tuesday. Bye." And clicked the disconnect button as soon as he responded. Rachel was pleased with how the conversation had gone. She felt ten pounds lighter after apologizing and the foolishness of that conference was behind them. Moments later, her cell rang. Ling's name appeared on the screen. Rachel poked the answer button on the screen. "Salam wa aleikum, Ling." She laughed along with her friend. "You're going to have to get used to that pretty damn soon. How's the baby?" Ling's smile could be heard in her voice. "Fine but if she doesn't figure out how to make it through the night, I'm going to careen headlong into criminal insanity. Just one six-hour stretch is all I want." "I can only imagine. So is it still okay if I drop by tonight? Need me to pick anything up?" Rachel's pen hovered over the pad of paper. "That's why I was calling. Would you mind getting some boneless, skinless chicken breasts? And maybe some asparagus and anything else that sounds good. Oh, and a half gallon of OJ." Rachel jotted down the short list. "Sure, no problem. Oh, by the way. I just got off the phone with Ethan." She figured he'd want to say hi so she embellished a little. "He wanted me to pass along a greeting." "How's he doing? Did you say anything about the Great Peeing Incident?" Ling emphasized the title. While she could understand Rachel's not liking the fact that it had happened, Ling found it endlessly humorous. "Oh grow up. Yes, I apologized and he was just as nice about it as you would expect. We actually had a really good conversation. I think this is going to work out after all, we seem to complement each other." Ling's voice took on a more mischievous tone. "Complement, mmm? Is that what kids call it these days?" "You're not helping, Ling. There's nothing going on -- hell the last time he saw me I basically ran away from him and anyway, there's no way he's single. Why is it married people are always so eager for unmarried folks to get together?" Ling ignored the question and got back to the topic of more interest to her. "And why wouldn't he be free?" Ling happened to know that he wasn't single, but she was interested in the way Rachel has said that Ethan couldn't have been attached to someone. "Well he's a good looking guy, thoughtful and...." "Mmmm. I see. Good looking, huh?" "Shut it, Ling. Yes he is and he can also be a first class asshole." Ling hadn't been in the class when Ethan had unloaded on Rachel, but she knew all about it from many points of view. She felt really bad for her friend even though Rachel'd probably deserved it. Ling said, "You seem to have brought that out in him...years ago that is. But he is single and Phil was just saying to me yesterday that he was hoping Ethan would get back into the dating world. You know he didn't just lose his company when everything went to pot." Rachel flushed at the thought of his paying for the research. "Couldn't have been all that bad. I mean, he's clearly living well and all." Ling knew the whole story and also knew that Ethan was pretty private about things. He'd tell Rachel if he wanted to. "He did well with the acquisition, but it came with a cost is all I can say. Anyway, I'm glad things are going well for you guys. Oh, that's the little munchkin." Rachel could tell that Ling was walking through her apartment to the nursery. "Hello bright eyes. Hungry again already? Uh, Rach. I have to go." "No problem. See you later, Ling." Rachel put her phone down and looked at the screen where Ethan's face had been a few minutes prior. She chided herself for feeling a little rush at the idea that he was single. ** The screen had gone blank all too quickly yet the image of her breast remained engraved in his mind for weeks. Rachel had leaned over to finish the call and Ethan almost questioned if it had really happened. Yet he couldn't get it out of his head. What was he, twelve? He'd seen breasts before, hell three clicks of the mouse and he could see a thousand nipples. Of course, it wasn't the same. Rachel was taking on a more pronounced role in his daily thoughts either in terms of the work they were doing or in his changing impression of her. Ethan focused on the present and selected Professor Rajagopalan's name from his contacts list. "Sanjit, how are you?" The Skype window pixilated and then clarified the video feed that showed the silver hair and dark complexion of the wizened professor. "And a good afternoon to you, Ethan. I trust you are well?" Hearing the familiar voice and seeing his mentor made Ethan smile warmly. "Indeed, sir. I'm doing quite well in fact. I have to say that your match-making seems to have been a good idea after all." Rajagopalan gave a mock-solemn bow of his head. "Then I am happy. You are finding the work or the partner enlightening?" Ethan paused to think about his answer. "I think it's fair to say both. Rachel and I had to get past some rocky ground initially but I'd say that we're in a much better place now. Did she let you know that we have the first survey in the field? Getting the first set of data will be critical for each of us as we set direction on our theses. Based on the next few months of conferences, I think we should be able to get together a couple of times. It seems like the more time we spend in person nets us better results than email or Skype." "One can only hope. Ethan," The older man's face showed some concern, "are you sure she's okay with a frequent travel schedule? Travel does not come cheaply these days." "Yeah. As far as I know. We've been hashing it out on email and so far I think we're good." Ethan was a little taken aback by the question but he really had triple-checked on email. The more he thought about it, the more he looked forward to the conferences. ** "Thanks, thanks a lot...yeah....great. Thanks." Ethan was responding to the kind words being directed at him by people passing in the hallway. He'd been asked to sit on a panel at a Big Data conference and his comments had apparently been well-received. He was attempting to talk with Colin who'd also showed up at the conference. "Sorry, man. Yeah—I think the general trend is to focus on tools rather than the data itself, but I still....oh, hey. Thank you...." Colin grinned. "I'm lucky to be basking in your presence. I figure I look smart just standing here talking to you." "Stuff it. It wasn't that good of a discussion." "It seems like your most ardent admirers are all women. Academic conferences don't all have to be about information technology. Don't underestimate the amount of scholarly interest there is in human anatomy." Ethan laughed. "Do you ever think of anything else? And somehow I doubt your judgment on these things." Colin's grin turned wry. He could see the interest in admiring glances that Ethan was getting. His friend had done a great job on the panel, but more than that, he'd been charismatic. Colin had a great deal of respect for Ethan's intellect but something had been different. He'd been more...passionate about his points of view and it had been compelling to watch. "I don't need ESP to figure out what's on the minds of the ladies in the room. You were 'on' up there and should take advantage of this. Man, it's time for you to get back into the game." "The game is rigged and fucked. Not sure I want to be 'in' that game again." Ethan had told Colin all about the whole Selma—Paul saga. "Anyway I'm getting together with Rachel tonight. We have our first round of results to go through and we only see each other once every other month or so as it is. I don't have time to get my head messed up with a distraction." "Ethan. Getting laid is not a distraction. It's healthy and, more to the point, it's something you need to get out of your system so you can start living a little again." Ethan grimaced. "I'm not a monk, you know. I've dated but things just don't work out with anyone. And as for....hey, there's Rachel. I'll catch up with you tomorrow. I've got to talk to her about..." Colin slapped his friend on the shoulder. "No worries. I'd ask you to say hi to her, but I'm not sure the ice-queen wants to hear from me." "She's much nicer than you think." "Yeah, right. Don't let her draw you into her web. You'll never get out alive.." Colin let his voice trail off ominously as he moved through the crowd toward the coffee service. Ethan headed across the congested foyer to catch up with Rachel. She was headed to one of the registration tables and it took him a few moments to get over to her as he'd been stopped a half-dozen times by women who wanted to chat with him about his performance on the panel. Maybe they were interested after all. When Ethan finally made it to Rachel, he hung back while she talked to the reception desk and he couldn't help but overhear what was being said. Rachel was doing a poor job hiding her dismay at what she was being told. "What do you mean my room has been cancelled? That's ridiculous. I've had a reservation for weeks." The woman behind the desk was being falsely polite. "Ma'am. The hotel said that there's been a serious problem with their facility and we have 35 attendees who've been affected. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to find another accommodation. Unfortunately the nearest hotel with room is out on Rt. 128 but we're setting up a shuttle. Also due to the late change, we can't get the same rate as we did here. It's going to be $265 a night." "Jesus Christ, I can't do that! You've got to be kidding me. You want me to fork over a hundred and forty extra a night and add a 40-minute commute on top of that? That's crazy and completely unacceptable. You have to..." The reception vendor's voice was getting less polite. "I don't 'have' to do anything. We've made alternate arrangements. I'm sorry that we can't do more. Do you want the room or not?" "No. No, I can't do that. Shit!" Rachel didn't know what she was going to do. She didn't have enough in her account to cover the flights on her credit card never mind any food or hotel. Fuck! Where would she get almost $500 more to deal with this trip? She was stretched as it was going to the conferences that Ethan was attending so she could stay current with his schedule. She'd never let on to him that the face to face meetings at conferences were an inordinate financial burden for her. She'd long-since blown through the grant budget and sapped her small savings that had been built up by careful economizing. She could feel tears of frustration stinging her eyes. "Damn it! I don't have the money for that. There's no other...." "I'm sorry. You'll have to make other arrangements." Rachel turned from the table and found Ethan standing no more than two feet behind her. Emotional confusion at seeing him unexpectedly only augmented the frustration. She'd been looking forward to seeing him again more than even she had admitted to herself and yet her embarrassment was acute knowing that he'd overheard her predicament. She vainly tried to surreptitiously wipe away her tears. "Oh...Ethan. Hi. I ah...got in a little late but caught the end of the panel session this morning. You were great." Of course he'd come late to avoid paying for the hotel room the night before the conference, never mind the extra meals. "I'm going to need to take care of something before we talk. Okay?" Ethan's mind clicked through the facts that he both knew and those that he could surmise. They'd met at a conference a month for the past four and the grant had allocated budget for just one in each of the two years of research. He ran a quick estimate of her annual stipend from GW and the evidence he had picked up over the past months of Skype calls and clues from random details in her emails. His eagerness to work on his research had blinded him to what it had meant for her. Rajagopalan had tried to hint for Ethan to be more aware of what he was asking her to do. Yet their work was important and time...no! He had to be honest with himself. He'd pushed for more conferences because it was an excuse to spend time with her. She was hard-headed, passionate, bloody smart...and she'd gotten under his skin. Ethan hadn't stopped to think about what he was really feeling for her nor what his selfishness had done to her. What it had cost her both in resources and pride. "Rachel. What's going on with the hotel?" She knew her attempt at being blasé had failed. "Look it's nothing. I'll sort it out. How about we..." "No, it's not nothing. I'm such an ass—you should have said something to me sooner." Rachel squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that she could restrain herself from further tears, but her body betrayed her. She was tired from getting up before dawn for her flight, was probably running low blood sugar levels from skipping breakfast and thus was exposed to her own emotions. She was also angry at having so quickly spoiled the time with Ethan. Frustration tears were a negatively recursive loop for her. She didn't want to cry, but she was frustrated by the situation which made her cry, and then she'd get angry at herself for crying, so then...god damn it. "How could I have said something sooner? I just got here and found out that..." Since Ethan's thought process had jumped ahead, it took him a moment to see that she hadn't understood his point. Rather than having out the whole scene there in the crowded area, he approached her and gently relieved Rachel of her shoulder and roller bags. He said, "Come with me. We're going to sort this out." Rachel was in no condition to dispute his actions. She mashed her eyes with her fingers and gathered her frayed emotions as best she could. The planning of this trip and her anticipation of seeing Ethan again had been tainted. She knew this was the last trip she could possibly afford and it was possible that the expenses were going to force her to stop working on her dissertation altogether for a while so she could get a job. Any crap job would do but she had to have electricity, water and food for Christ's sake. She felt real tears beginning to well and did everything she could to control herself until they got to his room. After the door had closed, Ethan could see that Rachel was holding it together by a mere thread. She had a slightly hunted look in her eyes which was reminiscent of their experience in that stalled elevator. He placed her bags near the sofa and encouraged her out of her jacket. It was only then that he recognized his own jacket and he smiled. Rachel didn't turn, she hugged herself and shuddered. Ethan's heart was in his throat, but he had to reach out to her. Rachel was fighting back an urge to sob. The hotel room was deadly silent and she wouldn't, couldn't allow herself to let go in front of him. How could she explain that it wasn't the hotel room, it wasn't the money, it was him? After so many years of disdaining his presence, she found herself marking time between Skype calls and thinking through every detail before seeing him at a conference. Ethan did the one thing that she least expected yet most desperately needed. He didn't say a thing. He simply wrapped his arms around her from behind and drew her body into his. She felt his lean frame and the strength in his arms and then a most distinct and purposeful kiss on the top of her head. She cried. ** They remained in an embrace until Rachel quieted. Ethan let go and guided her onto the couch so he could go get her some tissues and a glass of water. She gratefully took the proffered items and removed her glasses. She wiped her eyes and attempted to blow her nose with a shred of remaining dignity. Ethan had fetched a selection of snacks from the mini bar and placed them on the coffee table in front of her as well. Then he plopped down in an overstuffed chair and looked at her. Her face was mottled and her eyes were rimmed red from the tears. She was beautiful. He said, "I think we need to talk. And for once, not talk around things, not talk past each other, not get in our own way. It's like we keep stumbling over our past just to spite what we're doing now."