Laura opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Elena looked up, jumping a little when she saw Finn standing in the doorway. Even after three days of carefully maintained distance, the sight of him still affected her in ways she tried to ignore.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "I have the Wednesday analysis you requested. There are some interesting patterns in the secondary responses I thought you should see."
Elena nodded, gesturing him in. "Thank you. Laura, this is Finn Cochrane, my research assistant. Finn, this is Laura Hunt, an old friend."
Laura's attention shifted entirely to Finn, her eyes widening as she took in his tall frame and serious expression. Elena recognized that look. Laura's radar for attractive men was legendary, and she was clearly picking up readings. "So you're the janitor with hidden depths I heard about," Laura said with a smile as she openly ogled him.
Finn was understandably confused by the statement, as well as startled by Laura's directness, but recovered, shaking her hand with a polite nod.
Elena watched the exchange with growing discomfort. Three days ago, she would have smiled at Laura's obvious interest in Finn. Now, it just made her uncomfortable. Things were supposed to be professional now.
"The analysis shows consistent improvement in the initial patient set," Finn continued, addressing Elena as he handed herthe folder. "Especially patients 304 and 217. Their anxiety response metrics are down by eighteen percent."
Laura couldn’t help herself. “Wow. Youreallyknow what you’re talking about. Doesn’t he, Elena?”
Elena took the folder. “He is good at this, yes. Thank you for working late again, Finn.”
"Of course. Will there be anything else you need tonight?"
Elena hesitated for just one tiny second, which was all Laura needed to scan them both and land on an assessment that was probably dead-on.
“Oh, I’m sure we could find something for you to do.” Laura teased.
Elena blushed. “Just keep working on analyzing the new patient set.”
He nodded once, then turned to Laura. "It was nice meeting you."
"Likewise," Laura replied, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."
Finn hesitated, glancing back at Elena with an unreadable expression before excusing himself. As he left, Laura's gaze followed him all the way out the door, lingering on the empty doorway even after he'd disappeared from view.
The silence that followed felt heavy with implication. Elena busied herself opening the folder, though the data blurred before her tired eyes. She could feel Laura's attention shifting back to her, practically hear the gears turning in her friend's head.
"So," Laura said, drawing the word out. "That's your research assistant."
Elena kept her eyes on the papers. "Yes, that's Finn."
"Interesting," Laura murmured, in a tone that suggested she found it more than just interesting. "Very interesting."
Elena looked up to find Laura watching her with acalculating expression that made her immediately nervous. Laura's intuition for emotional undercurrents was uncanny, and the last thing Elena needed was her friend's piercing insight directed at the very situation she was trying so desperately to ignore.
"The research," Elena said, tapping the folder Finn had delivered. "That's what's interesting. These results could help trauma patients who haven't responded to traditional therapies."
But Laura's slow smile told Elena she wasn't fooled for a second. “So have you two had sex before?” Laura asked, opting to cannonball off the high dive rather than dip her toes in the water first. Elena immediately choked on her coffee.
Before Elena could recover, Laura held up a hand. "No, wait. Don't answer that. I shouldn't be encouraging this."
Elena's shoulders tensed. "Encouraging what?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Laura shook her head. "That's just your research assistant. Young research assistant." She paused, then leaned forward. "How young exactly?"
"Laura—"
"For professional reasons!" Laura added quickly. "So I know how much NOT to think about his shoulders. Or that jawline. Or the way he looked at you like you personally invented neuroscience."
"He doesn't look at me like that," Elena said, busying herself with papers that didn't need organizing. "He’s twenty-six,” Elena whispered meekly.
Laura froze mid-sip of her coffee. "I'm sorry, what did you whisper to me just now? Because it sounded like you said twenty-six but that can't be right because that would make him fifteen years younger than you and—" She set her cup down. "Oh my God, my best friend is a pervert. I never knew…"
