Page 33 of Ship Happens

“About Cole Tech not doing enough. About our seabed mining technology needing more environmental safeguards. About our responsibility to do better.” He sets his menu down. “You’re brilliant, Harper, and your criticism is valid. I wanted to show you we’re trying to improve, not just dismiss you.”

I study him, trying to reconcile this thoughtful man with the corporate figurehead I’ve spent years ripping apart. “That’s... not what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“Something about PR, or damage control, or?—”

“Oh, that too,” he interrupts with a grin. “But I can have multiple motivations. Improving our environmental practices and getting to know the gorgeous scientist who’s been publicly challenging me for years aren’t mutually exclusive goals.”

The server returns for our orders, and we both select the day’s special—locally caught Mahi-Mahi with island vegetables. When we’re alone again, I want to continue our honest talk.

“Last night,” I begin, “when you asked if I regretted it, and I said to ask me tomorrow...”

“Which is today,” he supplies.

“Right. I’ve been thinking about my answer.”

His expression remains neutral. “And?”

“I don’t regret it.” The admission feels both terrifying and liberating. “But I’m still not sure what it means. For us, professionally or... otherwise.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean.” He reaches across the table, his fingers lightly touching mine. “We’ve got three more days on this cruise. We can define this—us—however we want.”

“And when the cruise ends?”

A shadow crosses his face. “That depends on what conclusions you reach in your article, I suppose.”

The reminder of my professional purpose here feels like a splash of cold water. No matter how perfect last night was, no matter how genuine our connection feels in this moment, we still have opposing interests.

“My article will reflect what I find,” I say carefully. “The good and the bad. The facts.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” His fingers still touch mine, neither advancing nor retreating. “I’m not asking you to compromise your integrity, Harper. I just want a fair chance.”

“Why does my opinion matter so much to you?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Because you can’t be bought.” His answer comes without hesitation. “Your approval can’t be purchased with donations or manipulated with PR stunts. If Harper Bennett says Cole Tech is making real environmental progress, people will believe it because they know you wouldn’t say it unless it was true.”

The food arrives, pausing our conversation. The dish is beautifully presented, the fish perfectly cooked, the flavors rich and fresh. We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the tension between us settling.

“This is delicious,” I say after a few bites.

“I thought you’d like it.” He looks pleased by my approval. “The chef trained in Paris but uses traditional island cooking techniques.”

“Your research on things that might impress me is very thorough.”

He laughs. “I’m a Cole. Thoroughness is in our DNA.”

“Is that so?” I raise an eyebrow, thinking of last night. “I had noticed that talent.”

His eyes darken at my implication. “Dr. Bennett, are you flirting with me?”

“Merely making an observation.”

“In that case, I hope your research continues. I believe there are several aspects of my... thoroughness... that warrant looking deeper.”

Heat rises to my cheeks despite my best efforts at composure. “You’re impossible.”

“So, you keep saying.” His smile is infectious. “And yet, here you are, having lunch with me.”

---