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I smile despite myself.
Let them speculate. Official line is professional respect and environmental commitment.
Got it. See you shore-side.
At eight, I enter the main dining room to find Harper already seated by a window, looking out at the approaching Miami skyline. She’s wearing a simple green sundress that brings out her eyes, her hair loose around her shoulders.Several passengers glance at us with interest—our antagonism-to-romance storyline has provided quality entertainment throughout the cruise.
“Dr. Bennett,” I greet her as I approach, mindful of our audience.
She looks up with a small smile. “Mr. Cole. Right on time.”
“Always, for important matters.” I take the seat across from her, noting the array of breakfast options she’s already selected from the buffet. “I see you’ve started without me.”
“The ship’s waste processing incident made me conscious of food waste this morning,” she replies, loud enough for nearby tables to hear.
“Admirable principles, as always.”
Our public performance continues through breakfast—professional, cordial, with just enough lingering eye contact to fuel gossip. To any observer, we appear to be a corporate executive and an environmental scientist finding unexpected common ground—nothing more.
Only the slight reddening of Harper’s cheeks when my foot brushes hers beneath the table betrays our more intimate connection.
As we finish our coffee, the captain announces our arrival at Port Miami. Passengers move toward observation decks to watch the docking process, leaving us alone in the dining room.
“So,” Harper says quietly. “Here we are. End of the cruise.”
“End of the cruise,” I agree. “Not the end of us.”
She meets my eyes, uncertainty flashing across her features. “It will be different on land. Complicated.”
“I know.” I reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. “But I meant what I said last night. I want to try, Harper. No pressure, no expectations, just... possibility.”
Her expression softens. “I want that too. Even with all the logical, rational arguments against it.”
“When do you plan to publish your expose?”
“I’ll submit the preliminary findings to my publisher next week. The full report will take another two weeks to complete with all the data.” She hesitates. “Once it’s published, people will have opinions about our... relationship.”
“People always have opinions. The question is whether we care more about those opinions than about us.”
“Very philosophical for a corporate CEO,” she teases, but her eyes are serious.
“I am not just a CEO.”
Her smile reaches her eyes this time. “You’ve proven that.”
The ship’s horn sounds, announcing our arrival. Around us, passengers gather belongings and bags preparing to leave the boat. Our private moment ends.
“My suite is closer to the main gangway than yours,” I say, standing. “Would you like to collect your luggage and meet me there in thirty minutes? We can disembark together.”
She nods. “Professionally together? For appearances.”
“For now,” I agree. “Until you’ve published your findings, and we can plan our next steps without compromising your professional credibility.”
“Thank you for understanding that.” The relief in her voice confirms I’ve made the right decision, however much I might want to claim her as mine.
“See you in thirty,” she says, then surprises me by leaning in and placing a quick kiss on my cheek—the kind of goodbye a casual friend might offer, nothing that would raise eyebrows. But her whispered words are for me alone. “Last night was worth repeating, Cole. Many times.”
Then she’s gone, moving through the crowded dining room with grace, leaving me watching her with what I suspect is a ridiculously obvious expression of admiration.