Page 17 of Rival Hearts

I glanced at the investors, who nodded, impressed.

“I love the idea, Chris,” Victoria Sterling said. She was a successful real estate mogul, known for her luxurious properties and upscale resorts. The yachting lifestyle had always been apersonal interest, and she saw the synergy between her real estate ventures and what we did.

“It perfectly complements the high-end properties I’ve been adding to my portfolio. I can already envision offering exclusive yacht experiences to our real estate clients.”

“Incredible.” Henry nodded in agreement. “I like your integration of technology. Smart glass, advanced stabilizers, and the seamless transition from indoors to outdoors—this might well be a game-changer.”

“It’s a stunner, aesthetically. Do you have plans to decorate?” Elena Marini looked excited. She had a lot of input when it came to our interiors, and a lot of our funding for it came directly from her company.

“We thought we’d leave that up to your team,” I said.

“I thought you’d like the tech, Henry,” Chris said with a grin. “I’m glad you’re as enthusiastic as we are.” He glanced at me. “Any questions?”

“Yes, actually.” Nigel spoke up. “It’s nothing to do with the yacht, you’re on the money with that. I’ve heard mention of an activist campaign relating to yacht emissions and their impact on the marine ecosystem.”

“Yes,” Victoria added. “My namesake, Victoria Morgan, is spearheading this the last I heard. You know who she is, don’t you?”

“She can be a pain in the ass,” Samuel Bennett said. “I’m all for saving the environment but there are ways to do it that don’t rub everyone up the wrong way.”

I glanced at Chris, who shook his head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“She’s a marine biologist with a lot of clout behind her name,” Victoria Sterling clarified. “When she speaks, people listen—even if she can be a pain in the ass”—she glanced at Samuel when she said that—“and we worry about what it will mean for thecompany once these activists start to hold up signs and march in circles in front of the harbor.”

I sighed. I’d heard mention of this but nothing as outright as what they were referring to. The moment they mentioned environmental activists, my mind drifted to Charlotte. This was her line of work. What were the odds that this was coming up now?

A lull in the discussion drew me back to the conversation. I looked up; everyone was looking at me intently.

I’d missed something. Elena had been the one speaking. I’d thought it might have been about fashion or something, but clearly I’d been called on.

“Have you been following the campaign at all?” Henry asked me.

I froze, suddenly at a loss for words.

Chris cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I understand your concern,” he said, and I was so grateful he stepped up. “But rest assured, we’re committed to sustainability. I’m always considering eco-friendly practices in the manufacturing process. I mean, it doesn’t help having a glass-bottom pool if there’s nothing left to look at.”

“What about the activists?” Sasha asked. “They can cause a lot of trouble and bad press, and we all know that even if it’s baseless, bad press can do a lot of damage.”

I nodded, finally able to speak. “They often focus on the industry giants, and we’re a niche luxury brand. We’ll continue to engage in responsible manufacturing, of course, but it’s unlikely we’ll be a primary target.”

The conversation shifted, the investors apparently happy with what we said, and I lost track again.

My mind wandered back to Charlotte. Last night had been incredible, but this was even more of a sign that it could never happen again. She was my opposite in every way, and if theinvestors were worried about the activists, being seen with her at all couldn’t be a good idea.

It was better that way, anyway. Not only was she directly opposed to the company, but she was Gabe’s sister. I couldn’t forget about that.

Chris answered a few more technical questions, and the investors seemed satisfied; the meeting was adjourned.

We saw our guests out with smiles and handshakes. Finally we were alone, and I could breathe again.

“That was a great presentation,” Chris said. “They like the yacht.”

“A lot,” I said. “But you always develop something you know will tickle them pink.”

Chris shrugged. “When you’re the best…”

“You’re a Blackwood,” I said with a grin, and he laughed, nodding. “What happened to you when they asked about the activism? Are you worried?”