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“Ethan.”
“We’re taking part in ship activities that highlight our sustainable programs. It’s a win-win.”
“What’s the next ‘win-win’ activity?”
“Tantric yoga.”
Alexis makes a choking sound. “You’re doing tantric yoga with Dr. Harper Bennett? The woman who called your Green Ocean Initiative ‘a pathetic attempt to greenwash industrial-scale destruction’?”
“That’s the one.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s just yoga,” I protest, though we both know it’s not just yoga. “Besides, she needs access to our environmental data, and I need positive press. This arrangement works for everyone.”
“Until she murders you in your sleep.”
“She’s warming up to me.”
Alexis snorts. “Is that what you call it when someone looks at you like they’re mentally calculating how long it would take your body to sink to the ocean floor?”
“She’s passionate about her work. I respect that.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone drips skepticism. “Just remember, we need her endorsement for the initiative, not another viral video of her attempting bodily harm.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“Famous last words.” She pauses. “The Mako board is watching this situation closely. Don’t screw it up.”
“When have I ever screwed up?”
“Do you want that alphabetically or chronologically?”
I laugh. “I’ll handle it. Harper Bennett will be singing our praises by the time this cruise ends.”
“Just make sure she doesn’t end up singing your eulogy instead.”
After hanging up, I check social media. The obstacle course video is trending, with most comments speculating about the “obvious chemistry” between Harper and me. A few environmental accounts are accusing her of selling out, which I should probably warn her about before she checks her phone.
A knock at the door interrupts my scrolling. I open it to find the ship’s yoga instructor, a serene-looking woman in flowing linen.
“Mr. Cole? I’m Devi, your tantric instructor for this afternoon.” She hands me a folded set of white cotton clothes. “These are traditional for the practice. I wanted to discuss some modifications to the standard routine, given the... unique nature of your partnership with Dr. Bennett.”
“Modifications?”
“The standard couple’s tantric yoga includes significant physical contact and breathwork designed to enhance intimacy.” She smiles diplomatically. “I observed your obstacle course performance earlier. Perhaps a less... provocative approach would be appropriate?”
I consider this. On one hand, toning down the session might prevent Harper from murdering me. On the other hand...
“Devi, I think the traditional approach will be perfect.” I accept the clothes with a smile. “Dr. Bennett is committed to experiencing the full range of the ship’s activities for her assessment.”
“If you’re certain.” She looks dubious. “The full program includes partner massage, shared breathing exercises, and several poses that require extensive contact.”
“Sounds educational.”
“Very well.” She hands me a brochure. “The session begins at 2 PM in the Crystal Pavilion. Please arrive fifteen minutes early for centering meditation.”
After she leaves, I examine the white cotton outfit—loose pants and a sleeveless top. Simple, comfortable, and definitely not what Harper is expecting.