Chapter 5
Chapter Five
HARPER
TRUTH OR DISASTER?
“ T his is a nightmare,” I mutter, studying my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The makeup artist the cruise provided has disappeared, leaving me alone to contemplate what I’ve become.
My hair falls in soft waves around my shoulders that the wind will wreck the minute I get out on the deck. My eyes are dramatically lined in a way I’d never manage on my own, if I attempted this look, I’d be able to join an emo band. My lips painted a deep rose color that is way too provocative for a scientific discussion about ocean conservation.
The dress they’ve given me to wear is worse—a sea-foam green silk that hugs my curves and dips low in the back. It’s beautiful, but it’s not me. Alos not very ethical or environmentally friendly. I’m a scientist who spends most days in rash guards and wetsuits, not... whatever this flowy fuss-up is.
I snap a selfie and text it to my best friend Zoe with the caption:
SOS. I’ve been kidnapped by a luxury cruise and forced into formal wear.
She responds:
WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HARPER?
Followed by:
Also, you look HOT. Is this for Billionaire Boy?
I grimace at her nickname for Ethan. After the yoga session this afternoon, I’d made the mistake of calling Zoe to vent about the situation. She’d been way too delighted by the entire saga, particularly the part where I’d been tangled up with Ethan for an hour.
It’s for a broadcasted interview , I text back.
About environmental issues.
Sure it is. That’s why they glammed you up like a Bond girl.
I put the phone down before her comments make me change my mind about the whole thing. I’ve spent the hours since yoga trying to forget the unsettling experience—not because it was awful, but because it wasn’t.
There’d been a rhythm to our movements, a synchronicity I hadn’t expected. And that final pose, our foreheads touching, breathing in unison... it had felt intimate.
Which is precisely why I need to get my head on straight before this interview. Ethan Cole is manipulating me, using my need for environmental data to boost his public image. The fact that he smells good and has gentle hands doesn’t change that.
A knock at the cabin door pulls me from my thoughts. I open it to find Ethan standing there in a tailored navy suit that costs more than my years research grant. His eyes widen slightly as they travel from my face down to my dress and back.
“You look...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right word. “Different.”
I cross my arms. “Is that your version of a compliment?”
“No, my idea of a compliment would be that you look stunning, but I wasn’t sure that would go over well given our current dynamic.”
I blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Oh.”
“For the record, though,” he adds, offering his arm, “you look stunning.”
I ignore his outstretched arm. “This isn’t a date.”
“No, it’s a televised interview where we’re supposed to appear as if we don’t want to kill each other.” He keeps his arm extended. “Which might be more convincing if we aren’t standing three feet apart.”
He has a point, however irritating. I reluctantly place my hand on his arm, trying to ignore how solid he feels beneath the expensive fabric of his suit.
“I’ve reviewed the format,” he says as we walk toward the elevator. “Standard love-cruise fare—how we met, what attracted us to each other, most romantic moments. I figured we could redirect most questions toward environmental topics.”
“You think they’ll let us turn a romance segment into a climate change PSA?”
“They will if I insist on it.” He presses the elevator button. “I’ve told the host you’re passionate about marine conservation and that’s what attracted me to you initially.”
“That’s actually... not terrible.”
The elevator arrives, and he gestures for me to enter first. “I do occasionally have good ideas, Dr. Bennett.”
“Occasionally being the operative word.”
Once we’re alone in the elevator, Ethan’s expression is more serious. “There’s something you should know before we go on air.”
My stomach tightens. “What?”
“Some environmental accounts are questioning your integrity for joining in these activities with me. Calling it selling out.”
I freeze. “What? Show me.”
He pulls out his phone and opens Twitter, displaying several posts from prominent environmental activists criticizing me for “cozying up to the enemy” and “betraying the cause.” My heart sinks as I scroll through the comments.
“These people used to respect me,” I say quietly.
“They still would if they knew the entire story.” Ethan takes his phone back. “We could tell them.”
“Tell them what? That you’re blackmailing me with research data?”
“I prefer to think of it as an exchange of services.” The elevator stops, and he places his hand lightly on my lower back as the doors open. “But yes, we could explain that you’re investigating our sustainability claims.”
The warmth of his palm against my bare skin is distracting. “Which would defeat the purpose of your PR stunt.”
“Not necessarily.” We walk through the opulent lobby toward the Starlight Deck. “It could show transparency—Cole Tech so confident in our environmental initiatives that we invited a vocal critic to evaluate them from the inside.”
I glance at him skeptically. “That’s actually... smart.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m trying to reconcile the person who orchestrated my public humiliation with the one proposing a reasonable solution.”
He grins. “We all have more than one side to us, Dr. Bennett.”
Before I can respond, we’re intercepted by a woman with an iPad and a headset. “Mr. Cole, Dr. Bennett! Perfect timing. We’re set up on the Starlight Deck. You’ll be on in five minutes.”
She ushers us through glass doors onto a deck transformed into an outdoor broadcasting studio. Plush love seats face a glittering ocean backdrop, with studio lights positioned to catch the moonlight reflecting off the water. A crowd has already gathered in a cordoned-off area to watch the filming.
“This is... elaborate,” I whisper to Ethan.
“The Love Confessions segment is quite popular.” He keeps his hand at my back, steering me toward the host—a polished woman in her forties with a professional smile.
“Mr. Cole, Dr. Bennett! I’m Victoria Wells, your host for tonight.” She shakes our hands. “We’re so excited to have you both. The ship is buzzing about your whirlwind romance.”
“It’s certainly been unexpected,” I manage.
“We have so many questions for you! Your champagne moment has gone viral, and then today’s obstacle course victory—the audience is dying to know your story.”
A makeup artist descends on us for last-minute touch-ups while Victoria reviews her notes. Ethan leans close to my ear.
“Remember, this is your chance to talk about ocean conservation to thousands of viewers.”
“And your chance to look like less of an eco-villain,” I whisper back.
“Win-win.”
The floor director counts down from ten, and suddenly the lights brighten as Victoria beams at the camera.
“Good evening and welcome to Midnight Confessions, coming to you live from The Rendezvous!” Her voice is smooth and practiced. “I’m Victoria Wells, and tonight we have a very special couple joining us—tech billionaire Ethan Cole and renowned marine biologist Dr. Harper Bennett!”
The audience applauds as the camera swings to us. I force a smile, trying to look less like I’m facing a firing squad.
“Now, your romance has captivated everyone on board,” Victoria continues. “Especially after that dramatic first encounter that went viral! Ethan, tell us, what was going through your mind when Harper threw that champagne in your face?”
Ethan laughs, the sound so natural you’d never guess this entire situation is scripted. “Honestly? My first thought was, ‘I deserved that.’”
Victoria looks delighted. “And did you?”
“Harper and I met under... professional circumstances initially,” he says smoothly. “I’m afraid I was dismissive of her environmental concerns about some of our technology. The champagne was her way of making sure I paid attention.”
“And are you paying attention now?” Victoria asks with a suggestive smile.
“Absolutely.” Ethan turns to me, his expression earnest. “Dr. Bennett is one of the foremost experts on marine ecosystems. Her research on coral reef preservation has influenced environmental policy worldwide. I’d be a fool not to listen to her expertise.”
I stare at him, surprised by the accurate but flattering assessment of my work. He’s done his homework.
“Harper,” Victoria shifts her focus to me, “what attracted you to Ethan after such a... fiery beginning?”
Here we go. I take a deep breath, deciding to follow Ethan’s lead with a version of the truth.
“Initially, nothing,” I say honestly, drawing laughs from the audience. “I viewed Ethan as representing corporate interests that often prioritize profit over planetary health.”
Victoria’s smile falters, not expecting this direction.
“But,” I continue, “I’ve been invited to evaluate The Rendezvous’ sustainability initiatives, and Ethan has been... open to critical feedback.” This much is true—he hasn’t once tried to prevent me from documenting the ship’s environmental issues.
“So, it’s his environmental consciousness that won you over?” Victoria presses, fishing for a more romantic angle.
“That and his willingness to engage with opposing viewpoints,” I say. “Too often, environmental discourse becomes an echo chamber. Real progress happens when different perspectives find common ground.”
Ethan’s hand finds mine on the sofa between us, squeezing gently in approval. The camera zooms in on our clasped hands.
“Well, you two found some common ground during today’s obstacle course,” Victoria says, as footage from our fall plays on a screen behind her. “That was quite a moment!”
My cheeks heat at the sight of me sprawled across Ethan’s chest, his arms wrapped around me protectively. It looks far more intimate on camera than it felt in the moment.
“The important thing is that we won,” Ethan says smoothly, saving me from having to respond. “Which means we’ll be visiting the private island tomorrow—home to an endangered sea turtle nesting site that Harper has been eager to document.”
“Ah, so your romantic dinner will double as a research opportunity?” Victoria seems amused by this unorthodox date plan.
“The most romantic thing Ethan could offer me is access to environmental data,” I say, only half-joking.
“She’s not kidding,” Ethan adds with a laugh. “Harper’s passion for marine conservation is what I admire most about her.”
Victoria leans forward. “And what do you admire most about Ethan, Harper?”
I falter, not having prepared for this question. Ethan watches me with badly concealed interest, curious about what I’ll say.
“His... adaptability,” I answer. “When faced with new information, some people double down on their existing beliefs. Ethan is willing to reconsider his position.” I meet his eyes. “It’s a rare quality, especially in someone as successful and stubborn as he is.”
Something changes in his expression—surprise, followed by what almost looks like genuine pleasure at the almost compliment.
“Now, we have a little game we like to play with our couples,” Victoria announces, derailing my thoughts. “It’s called Truth or Confession. I’ll ask a question, and you each write your answer on these cards. Then we reveal them simultaneously.”
She hands us each a small whiteboard and marker. “First question: What was your first impression of your partner? Write it down, no peeking!”
I hesitate, then write: Arrogant but annoyingly smart.
“Reveal!” Victoria commands after a moment.
I turn my board. Next to me, Ethan reveals his: Beautiful and terrifying.
The audience “awws” while I stare at his answer. Beautiful?
“Terrifying?” Victoria repeats, amused.
“Have you seen her take down environmental offenders at scientific conferences?” Ethan asks the audience. “It’s both impressive and absolutely terrifying.”
“Next question,” Victoria continues. “What is your partner’s most endearing habit?”
I draw a blank. What do I know about Ethan’s habits, endearing or otherwise?I write: He actually listens when I talk about marine ecosystems.
Ethan’s board reads: She tugs her hair when she’s thinking deeply about something.
I blink at him. I do tug my hair when I’m concentrating—a habit my mother has been trying to break since childhood. How has he noticed that in the short time we’ve known each other?
Victoria looks thrilled by this exchange. “How romantic that you’ve noticed such specific details about each other! Last question: Where do you see this relationship going?”
My mind races. What’s the right answer here? Too positive seems fake, too negative ruins the charade. I settle on: Taking it one day at a time, focused on our shared environmental goals.
When we reveal our answers, Ethan’s reads: Wherever Harper wants it to go.
The audience swoons. I fight the urge to roll my eyes, though something about his answer makes my stomach flutter traitorously.
“Well, there you have it, folks! The most intriguing couple on The Rendezvous!” Victoria turns to the camera. “We’ll be following Ethan and Harper’s romantic journey throughout the week, including their private island date tomorrow evening!”
The cameras continue rolling as Victoria asks follow-up questions about our backgrounds and interests. Ethan steers the conversation toward environmental topics whenever possible, highlighting Cole Tech’s sustainability initiatives while acknowledging areas where they’re still “working to improve”—with my consultation, he adds.
By the time the interview concludes, I’ve discussed coral reef preservation, plastic pollution, and sustainable tourism to an audience that tuned in expecting romantic fluff. It’s a win, even if I had to endure Victoria’s knowing smiles every time Ethan’s hand brushed mine.
“Thank you both,” Victoria says as the cameras stop rolling. “That was fantastic! The chemistry between you two is electric. I predict we’ll be covering your wedding within a year!”
I choke on air while Ethan chuckles. “One step at a time, Victoria.”
Once she walks away to speak with her producer, I turn to him. “That was...”
“Not terrible?” he supplies.
“Actually productive,” I admit. “I didn’t expect to get in so many talking points about conservation.”
“That was my plan.” He stands, offering his hand to help me up. “Shall we get a drink? I think we’ve earned one.”
The night air is warm as we make our way to a less crowded section of the deck. The full moon reflects off the water, casting everything in silver light. A server brings us champagne—”Not for throwing," Ethan jokes—and we find a quiet spot by the railing.
“Beautiful night,” Ethan observes, leaning against the rail beside me.
“It is.” I take a sip of champagne, studying the stars. “You know, light pollution makes it impossible to see stars like this in most coastal cities. It disrupts marine life cycles, especially for species that use the moon for navigation.”
“Like sea turtles.”
I glance at him, surprised. “Yes, exactly. Hatchlings follow the brightest horizon, which should be moonlight reflecting off the ocean, but artificial lighting confuses them.”
“I know. That’s why our private island has strict lighting protocols during nesting season.” He sips his champagne. “No exterior lights after sunset, only red wavelength illumination when necessary.”
“That’s impressive.”
“You sound shocked that I might know something about environmental conservation.”
“Not shocked. Just...” I search for the right word. “Recalibrating my assumptions.”
“Such as?”
“Such as you only care about the environment when it generates positive PR, or money.”
He turns to face me, his expression serious in the moonlight. “My motives aren’t that simple, Harper.”
“Then explain them to me.”
He’s quiet for a moment, looking out over the water. “When I was twelve, my grandfather took me diving at a coral reef in the Caribbean. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen—like an underwater city, teeming with life and color. We went back every summer.”
His voice softens. “When I was twenty, we returned to find it bleached and dying. My grandfather was devastated. He’d spent his life building ships that contributed to the very pollution destroying what he loved.”
“So, this is about legacy? Atoning for family sins?”
“Partly,” he admits. “But it’s also about innovation. The shipping industry isn’t going away, but it can evolve. My ocean technology initiatives aren’t just PR stunts—they’re attempts to find solutions that balance human needs with environmental protection.”
“Your seabed mining drones?—”
“Are designed to be less destructive than traditional methods,” he interrupts. “Not perfect, I know. But better. And with input from scientists like you, they could be better still.”
I study him in the moonlight, trying to reconcile this thoughtful man with the corporate villain I’ve constructed in my mind. “Why didn’t you lead with this instead of forcing me into ridiculous couples’ activities?”
He smiles. “Would you have listened to me if I had?”
“Probably not,” I admit.
“Besides, the couples’ activities are accomplishing what we both want—you get a platform for environmental advocacy, I get to show that Cole Tech values environmental scientists, even when they’re critical of us.”
“And the fact that it’s embarrassing for me is just a bonus?”
“The benefits of watching you blush every time Victoria mentioned our ‘chemistry’ were incidental.” His grin turns teasing. “Though I must say, ‘arrogant but annoyingly smart’ might be the nicest thing you’ve said about me so far. I should put it on my Tinder bio.”
I roll my eyes, but fight a smile. “Don’t let it go to your head. You don’t have a Tinder bio, rich moguls don’t need Tinder.”
“Too late.” He clinks his glass against mine. “To productive embarrassment.”
I hesitate, then surrender to the toast. “To productive embarrassment.”
We drink in silence, watching the moonlight on the waves. After a moment, Ethan speaks again. “You never answered Victoria’s question, by the way.”
“Which one?”
“What you admire about me.”
“I said your adaptability.”
“That’s a professional assessment. You’re not HR, I’m curious what you really think.”
I consider ignoring the question, but something about the night, the champagne, and our unexpectedly honest conversation makes me answer truthfully.
“Your confidence,” I say finally. “Not the arrogance—though there’s plenty of that—but the genuine self-assurance. You know who you are, and you don’t apologize for it.” I take another sip of champagne. “It’s irritating, but impressive.”
He looks surprised, then pleased by my answer. “Thank you. That’s... not what I expected you to say.”
“What did you expect?”
“Something about my devastating good looks or charm.”
I snort. “Your ego doesn’t need to be fed, it needs a diet.”
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment—the antagonism giving way to something less hostile but more dangerous. His gaze drops briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.
I should step back, and make an excuse to leave. Instead, I find myself frozen in place as Ethan moves closer.
“Harper,” he says softly, “about tomorrow’s dinner?—”
“Mr. Cole!” A crew member approaches, breaking the moment. “Sorry to interrupt, but your uncle is on the phone in the executive office. He says it’s urgent.”
Ethan steps back, the intimate mood evaporating. “Thank you. Tell him I’ll be right there.” He turns to me with a look of regret. “Family business. I should take this.”
“Of course.” I’m grateful for the interruption, but still unsettled by whatever was happening between us. “It’s late, anyway. I should get some sleep before tomorrow.”
“I’ll have someone escort you to your cabin.”
“I’m perfectly capable of finding my cabin. I have a PhD.”
“I know you are. But humor me.”
He signals to a crew member, then turns back to me. “I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow for the island. Wear something you can hike in—the turtle nesting site is a half-mile walk from the dining location.”
“So, it really will be dinner and research?”
“I promised you, didn’t I?” His expression turns serious again. “I keep my promises, Harper.”
Before I can respond, he leans in and brushes his lips against my cheek, so lightly I might have imagined it. “Goodnight, Dr. Bennett.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me standing in the moonlight, my skin tingling where his lips touched it, thoroughly confused about what just happened. And even more confused about why I’m disappointed the crew member interrupted us when he did.