His expression turned icy. ‘I’d also like to keep the media out of this as much as possible. Things tend to get twisted around when the media becomes involved.’
‘I believe this is the ideal time to bring them round to our side. I know a few journalists who are above-board. Perhaps, if we can work exclusively with them, we can get a grea
t result. We’ve admitted the error is ours, so there’s nothing to cover up. But not everyone has time to fact-check and the public making assumptions could be detrimental to us. We need to keep the line of communication wide open so people know everything that’s going on at every stage.’
‘What do you propose?’ Sakis pushed his plate away.
She followed suit and fired up her laptop. Keying in the address, she called up the page she’d been working on. ‘I’ve started a blog with a corresponding social networking accounts.’ She turned the screen towards him and held her breath.
He glanced down at it. ‘“Save Point Noire”?’
She nodded.
‘What is the point of that, exactly?’
‘It’s an invitation for anyone who wants to volunteer—either physically at the site or online with expertise.’
Sakis started to shake his head and her heart took a dive. ‘Pantelides Shipping is responsible for this. We’ll clean up our own mess.’
‘Yes, but shutting ourselves off can also cause us a huge negative backlash. Look—’ she indicated the numbers on the screen ‘—we’re trending worldwide. People want to get involved.’
‘Won’t they see it as soliciting free help?’
‘Not if we give them something in return.’
His gaze scoured her face, intense and focused, and Brianna felt a tiny burst of heat in her belly. Feverishly, she pushed it away.
‘And what would that something be?’ he asked.
Nerves suddenly attacked her stomach. ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead. But I’m sure I can come up with something before the day’s out.’
He kept staring at her for so long, her insides churned harder. Reaching for his glass, he took a long sip of water, his gaze still locked on her.
‘Just when I think you’re out of tricks, you surprise me all over again, Miss Moneypenny.’ The slow, almost lazy murmur didn’t throw her. What threw her was the keen speculation in his eyes.
Brianna held his gaze even though she yearned to look away. Speculation led to curiosity. Curiosity was something she didn’t want to attract from her boss, or anyone for that matter. Her past needed to stay firmly, irretrievably buried.
‘I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr Pantelides.’
He glanced down at the laptop. ‘Your plan is ingenious but, while I commend you for its inception, I’m also aware that keeping track of all the information flowing in will be a monumental task. How do you propose to do that?’
‘If you give me the go-ahead, I can brief a small team back at the head office to take over. Any relevant information or genuine volunteer will be put through to me and I can take it from there.’
The decisive shake of his head made her want to clench her fist in disappointment. ‘I need you with me once we get on site. I can’t have you running off to check your emails every few minutes.’
‘I can ask for three-hourly email updates.’ When his gaze remained sceptical, she rushed on. ‘You said so yourself—it’s a great idea. At least let me have a go at trying to execute it. We need the flow of information now more than ever and getting the public on our side can’t hurt. What do we have to lose?’
After a minute, he nodded. ‘Four-hourly updates. But we make cleaning up the spill our top priority.’
‘Of course.’ She reached for the laptop but he leaned forward, took it from her and set it down beside his plate.
‘Leave that for now. You haven’t finished your meal.’
Surprised, she glanced down at her half-finished plate. ‘Um...I sort of had.’
He pushed her plate towards her. ‘You’ll need your strength for what’s ahead. Eat.’
Her gaze slid to his own unfinished meal as she picked up her fork. ‘What about you?’