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They exchange confused glances. “But sir, she threw a drink at you. It’s all-over social media.”
“I’m aware.” I lean forward. “Here’s what we’re going to do instead: nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, not quite nothing.” I smile. “I want Dr. Bennett moved to the Seabreeze Suite on Deck 10.”
The cruise director consults his tablet. “That’s... next door to your presidential suite.”
“Is it? What a coincidence.” I reach for a bottle of water. “I also want her added to every couples’ event this week.”
“Couples’ events?” The events manager looks bewildered. “But she’s here alone.”
“Not anymore. I’ll be her partner.”
Their expressions range from confusion to dawning horror as they realize what I’m suggesting.
“Mr. Cole,” the cruise director says, “are you asking us to... punish her by making her take part in couples’ activities with you?”
“I prefer to think of it as ‘enhancing her cruise experience.’” I take a sip of water. “Plus, the press will love it. Imagine the headlines: ‘Eco-Warrior and Tech CEO Bury the Hatchet.’ Much better than ‘Billionaire Kicks Scientist Off Cruise.’”
The events manager looks skeptical. “Sir, with all due respect, she threw champagne in your face. I don’t think she’ll participate in anything with you.”
“She will if it’s required to complete her environmental assessment.” I stand. “Tell her she needs to experience all aspects of the cruise to evaluate its sustainability. Including the social events.”
“And if she refuses?”
“She won’t. She’s too committed to her cause.” I head for the door, then pause. “Oh, and have the ship’s social media team ready to capture everything. I want our ‘journey to friendship’ documented.”
Their faces suggest they think I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
Back in my suite, I fire off a text to Alexis:
Crisis averted. Working on a PR plan that will have Dr. Bennett singing our praises by week’s end.
Her response is immediate:
Should I be worried?
Definitely.
I step onto my balcony and glance at the suite next door. The Seabreeze is smaller than mine but just as luxurious—and perfectly positioned for my plans. Through the glass door, I catch a glimpse of auburn hair. Harper is already there, unpacking her bags.
As if sensing my gaze, she looks up. Our eyes meet across the dividing wall. For a moment, I think she might throw something else at me, but instead, she marches to the glass door and yanks the curtain shut.
I can’t help but laugh. This is going to be an interesting week.
My phone pings with an alert. The social media team has already started their campaign: a photo of me, champagne-drenched but smiling, captioned‘Sometimes sustainability discussions get heated! Looking forward to finding common ground with @DrHarperBennett this week on #TheRendezvous #LoveAndOceans.’
I pour myself another bourbon and settle into a deck chair. By tomorrow morning, Harper will discover what I’ve arranged. Her outrage will be magnificent. And public. And exactly what I need to turn this PR disaster into an opportunity.
The champagne attack may have won her the first round, but I’ve been playing this game a lot longer. And I never lose.
A knock at my door interrupts my plotting. I open it to find a crew member holding an envelope.
“From the cruise director, sir,” he says. “The updated event schedule you requested.”
I scan the list and can’t hold back a grin. “Love’s Obstacle Course” tomorrow morning. “Tantric Yoga for Two” in the afternoon. And the evening’s “Midnight Love Confessions” broadcast live from the main deck.