verything,” I answer simply.
Kimba and Vivienne laugh, but Lennix watches me, her eyes and mine locked in recognition. She’s glimpsed my ambition in flashes, in the few things I’ve shared. She knows I won’t be deterred by anything when pursuing my goals.
“I also have a degree in business,” I clarify, answering the questioning looks the other two women give me. “I’m interested in the intersection of clean energy and commerce.”
“In other words,” Lennix drawls, her smile affectionate and cynical, “he wants to make lots of money off the planet.”
We all laugh, but I feel the need to reassure them I’m not some heartless capitalist asshole who would compromise greater good for greater gain. I’m not my father.
“It’s true I want to monetize green energy innovation,” I tell them, sipping the last of my Bir Bintang. “But I also refuse to let this planet go to crap without at least trying to convince people we should stop treating it like a bottomless trash can.”
“That’s why you’re going to Antarctica next week?” Lennix asks.
“There’s a lot to learn there, yeah.”
“Is it dangerous?” Vivienne loads a little more beef and rice onto the small plate in front of her.
“It’s the most remote place on Earth,” I reply wryly. “And basically, an ice-covered desert. Civilization is literally thousands of miles away, and you’re surrounded by icebergs. Not to mention the weather changes faster than you can say blizzard, so yeah. There’s some risk.”
Lennix’s brows knit into a frown over concerned eyes.
“I mean, not that much,” I rush to tell her. “We’ll have some limited phone and internet access for the most part.”
Not always frequent or reliable, but I’ve already made it sound bad enough.
“How long will you be there?” Vivienne asks.
“We fly out next week and will be there until November,” I reply. “So about eight months. One of the major hazards, beyond the weather and unpredictable conditions, is depression. Most of that time, there will be no sun. It’s dark for months in the winter, and a lot of people deal with seasonal affective disorder, some depression.”
“It sounds intense,” Lennix says.
“It can be. We have to adjust to chronic hypobaric hypoxia.”
“Um . . . what?” Kimba asks.
“Sorry,” I say, laughing. “We’ll be living for a long time with a third less oxygen than is available at sea level, but we’ve been training for these conditions. There’s a former Navy SEAL in our group, and I worked with him for weeks and have been maintaining the regimen he suggested.”
“So that’s why you’re so much bigger,” Lennix says. She grimaces a little when her friends giggle and snort. “I mean . . . you’ve just . . . it was four years ago. Just more muscle or whatever.”
Under the table, I slide my hand across her lap and find her hand, a courtship between our fingers. I chuckle and kiss her temple. She shifts to catch my lips, opening to briefly brush my tongue with hers. My unoccupied hand knots into a fist, and I fight the urge to haul her onto my lap.
“Ahem.” Kimba clears her throat and then stretches into an elaborate yawn. “I’m beat. Aren’t you beat, Viv?”
“Huh?” Vivienne looks up, her jaws stuffed with rice and beef. “No, I actually wanted to order another beer. Do we have this stuff back in the States?”
“But aren’t you ready to go?” Kimba widens her eyes and ticks her head subtly in our direction.
“Go?” Vivienne shoves an errant grain of rice back into her mouth. “I haven’t even tried the goat yet.”
“Well I’m beat,” I say, letting Kimba off the hook and deciding we’ll be the ones to leave. “And stuffed and ready to go. My treat, ladies. You two stay as long as you like and I’ll take care of the bill on my way out.”
I brush the hair back from Lennix’s face and whisper in her ear, “You still staying with me tonight?”
She turns her head, and the need and desire in her eyes matches everything I’ve wanted since she left my house this morning.
“Hey, guys.” She drags her gaze back to her friends. “I’m going with Maxim, okay?”
Their knowing grins and nods answer. I fully embraced the idea of eating dinner with Vivienne and Kimba. It gave me time with Lennix, but also assuaged her guilt for spending less time with her friends on holiday.