Page 20 of The Duke

She had done her own research to discover that a whole fleet of green yachts were being designed and would soon be available. Reusable water containers and eco-friendly habits could do much to improve the situation. Besides the traditional yachts, over-fishing was another risk to the Mediterranean not likely discussed much. But she discovered most of the areas outside of Turkey and Greece were barren. The Mediterranean was fast becoming a dead sea. But the areas closest to Spain and Italy still had healthy marine ecosystems. And the best news of all, to help combat the idea that the countries would lose money gained from fishing, the marine reserve off of Spain earned many times more in tourism revenue than they could from fishing the same waters. The efforts they took to preserve the wildlife was regenerating the fishing population.

The clincher for her occurred this morning. A whale was found washed ashore. It died shortly thereafter. And when they did an autopsy to discover the cause, they found 64 pounds of plastic in its system.

Phina was ill. She had gone over, taken pictures and investigated herself. Tears burned her eyes again while she typed. Where did humans think the garbage went when they tossed it into the sea? She was embarrassed to be a human. And her writing was fueled by emotion as her fingers furiously flew across the keyboard.

The Valdez family thought they had their resources protected, but the very lifestyles of the Valdez brothers proved otherwise. They could do more, lead out in green friendly yachts, in banning water bottles, in a temporary halt in fishing.

She whipped out a text to her boss, explaining the bullets of her article. She could almost hear his hands rubbing together in his response. “Stay on it. Keep digging.”

Nothing could pull her from this story now. Once she had seen the stats of how many fish swam in the nearby waters, she thought of her people, who relied on fish as their main sustenance. She thought of the generations of people, in future years, who would require a healthy ecosystem in these waters. And she thought of that whale. And her blood boiled. She stood up, almost tipping her laptop to the floor. Her breathing heavy, she clenched her fists, then sat again and pounded anew all her emotion, all the words she could think of, to plead for a better way.

But what good would this article do if she published it after the summit? Perhaps it should be a series. And perhaps she should start today. If it generated enough attention before the summit, the leaders could add it to their discussions.

A quiet voice suggested she send a copy of her concerns to Trane before she sent the article to the paper. But doing so would lessen the effect for change. They would hear the problems in a diplomatic manner and be able to create reasons not to address them. Once they again heard about it via the press, they would already have that first no in their heads. No, he would have to hear it with the rest of the Mediterranean countries before the summit. That would give them all time to address the problems. If they would. She hoped they would. She would work to make her article as convincing as possible. Common courtesy persisted its urging, so she sent a copy to the main press desk where they likely received hundreds of such potential articles. There, she’d done her due diligence.

The hotel front desk called that flowers were waiting. She asked someone to bring them up to her. Security stood outside her door. Things were so much easier when she stayed at the palace, and so much more complicated. Trane sent them. “I am happy you are still my date. See you at the first summit event. Regards.”

So formal. She suspected he didn’t even send the flowers. She should write his assistant a thank you note. If Trane could return to the cold and distant ways they had been used to, then she would feel no qualms exposing his family’s habits to the world.

Her phone dinged. She had another meeting with EcoFresh this afternoon. She had been unable to get them tickets into the events, but she could at least give them details of where and when everything was happening so they could wait outside, perhaps bring people to demonstrate. They would need all the publicity they could get if they were going to make a difference.

Chapter 11

Trane slammed the newspaper down on his desk. How could she do this? A simple email and he could have explained Torren’s policies on each one of these issues, their plans to reform some of their practices, and a commitment to discuss others. Instead, she went straight to the press. And the resultant pundits and opinion blogs and news talk shows had exploded.The pristine Valdez reputation as dirty as the Mediterranean?Trane just doing lip service?Real change needed now. That last one, Trane appreciated. It was a piece Phina wrote as a follow-up and he agreed with all of it. She expressed so aptly his thoughts on environment and change. What a bitter pill to have further evidence he and Phina were so well suited, when he knew they could not be together. He felt betrayed in every way.

The family would meet for breakfast in five minutes and he had to decide how to respond to the news. And what should be the family’s official response.

As he entered, Thad, their brother press liaison was pointing out several images projected on the far wall. “We need to discredit her where we can.” He winced when Trane entered. “Sorry brother.”

“It’s something we need to talk about. You make a valid point. I never thought the woman I hoped to marry and an enemy in the press were ever going to be the same person.”

His mother smiled. “Do you hope to marry her?”

They turned to look at her, all the brothers. And Trane said, “It doesn’t signify mother. She’s attacking us. International news has picked it up. I would say this is a strong example ofnotputting the Torren crown first.”

She waved a hand. “That’s more important for Nico and Jo to worry about. You have a little leniency where that is concerned.”

He shook his head. He didn’t think this fit in the window definition of leniency.

They all took their seats and Nico said, “Bon Appétit.” Breakfast was delicious as usual. But he had only taken three bites before Nico began. “I apologize for rushing your meal. But I have a full docket of other things to deal with today. This will have to hurry.” He clicked through pictures and news articles, projecting them on the far wall. “She’s created quite a stir.” His eyes showed sympathy when his gaze met Trane’s. “So far we have made no comment but our normal political response about the environment. “Torren leads the world in preservation and environmentally friendly practices. It is our strong desire to protect the Mediterranean and its oceanic wildlife for many generations to come.” He turned to Trane. “I have to know. Is she right? Are we negligent in the areas she suggests?”

Trane cleared his throat. “The answer won’t sound satisfying. She’s right, but we are better than most.”

“Surely we can do better.” Jo’s tone held a “We’d better do better” undertone.

“We are doing well, Jo. But one of her accusations, the yachts. The technology to make yachts more green is just now becoming available. We will utilize those methods when it is practical to do so.”

“And the garbage, and the ocean dumping.”

He looked down. “Guilty as charged.”

“Well, now wait a minute.” Nico touched Jo’s shoulder. “We bring bags and bags of our garbage to shore when we go.”

Trane nodded. “We do. But the tourist towns where we dump it? They turn around and throw it into the sea.”

“And the fishing?” Jo’s expression was so hopeful, Trane wished he could answer differently.

“I’m afraid our fishing practices are governed by demand more than anything.”

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