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“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 toshow 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.”