The publicist is a tall man with short dark hair, and he sets his phone and clipboard down as he takes the microphone. “Thank you all for being here. Considering the public interest in their ordeal, we wanted to give Elliot Peterson and Hank Hansley a chance to speak for themselves, although we will need to keep this event short. Now. You all should have received the basic narrative of what happened. Who would like to begin?”
Immediately, all hands shoot in the air, and a ruckus fills the room. I lean back, surprised and affronted by the noise, and the first reporter steps forward.
“To start, how are you both doing? Are you healthy?”
“We’re fine,” I say, prepared for this question. “Just eating, resting, and spending time with friends and family.”
“Right,” Elliot says brightly. “Me, too.”
I catch myself. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to speak for you.”
Oh god, I’m being awkward. Normally I’d have no problem with a softball question, but I’m far too tired for a press conference. I don’t know what the firm is thinking in insisting on this.
Elliot shoots me a fake smile. “No problem. Luckily, neither of us brought any flesh-eating bacteria home, so our recovery is on track.”
A warm laugh goes through the room, and I relax slightly.
A reporter in the back chimes in. “What you’ve been through sounds terrifying. Were there any points where you thought you weren’t going to make it?”
“Definitely,” Elliot says. “It was especially dicey when we were lost at sea, and when we crashed our raft. There were plenty of cold, stormy nights to keep us awake and scared, too.”
“What helped you make it through?” the reporter asks.
“Each other,” Elliot and I both say at the same time, and all the cameras flash. Embarrassed, I look over at him, and Elliot gives me a slight shrug.
“Hank is a survivor,” he says. “From the moment we went overboard, he was focused on getting us home safe.”
I’m grateful that he’s talking me up, and I have enough sense to know to do the same. “Elliot, too. Whenever my spirits lagged, he kept us going. There were plenty of bleak moments, but we persevered.”
His knee lightly brushes mine under the table, and I swallow.
The publicist gestures to a tall man for the next question.
“Hank, will you tell us about the moment Elliot slipped trying to save the bird, and you decided to go after him?”
I hate lying, but at least I have lines prepared. It’s my profession to remember and deliver accurate information, and I stick tightly to the script. “There wasn’t much to think about. The second I saw him falling, I knew what I had to do.”
“You were strangers before that moment, right?” the reporter follows-up. “Would you have jumped forward so confidently if you knew what you were risking?”
Even though the scenario we’re talking about is pure fiction, my brain insistsyes. I’d do what I needed to keep him safe.
Although in this specific situation, given the chance, I’d simply go and get the damn crew next time, no doubt about that.
Emphatic, I lean forward. “I haven’t regretted it for a moment,” I say.
An appreciative murmur rolls through the crowd.
“You seem awfully close,” a man says from the back. “There’s no truth to the rumors that you were previously involved, either professionally or personally?”
The publicist steps forward. “Absolutely not,” he says. “And I’ll remind you that we won’t be entertaining frivolous or malignant rumors.”
“It’s a fair question,” the reporter objects. “Considering your connections through FCS,” he adds, referencing the accounting firm. “And we’re learning that the island where you were located belongs to a member of the British aristocracy who himself has funds handled by FCS.”
I’m not surprised to hear that the baronet had some finances pass through the office. Most wealthy people in the region do, and considering the level of grunt details that we handle, he likely didn’t even realize it.
But this is quickly turning sour. The entire point of this press conference is to disassociate with FCS. Eager to correct, I lean into the mic, returning us to facts.
“Elliot Peterson and I were stranded together,” I say firmly. “That’s the entire extent of our relationship. We’re essentially strangers.”
