Page 34 of Wicked and Claimed

“It’s lovely to meet you.” The woman enveloped her hand in a gentle squeeze, her delicate ring finger adorned with a huge, glimmering diamond. “Hopefully, you’ll breathe some fresh life into our branding.”

“That’s my goal, Mrs. Benedict. I’m excited to get started.”

“Oh, please, call me Mila. The last thing we need around here is more formality. Isn’t that right, George?” She sent her husband a teasing glance, laughing when he huffed. “Why don’t you get settled in, then we’ll debrief you on everything. I’m sorry to say we’ve got something of an emergency on our hands, so today will be a bit of a fire drill.”

“In my last position, change and chaos were constant. I’m used to it, and I’ll contribute in any way I can.”

George grunted, then doubled back and began leading her toward the open room full of desks.

Frowning, she called to Mila over her shoulder, “Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll convene.”

As the woman nodded, she and Mr. Benedict rounded the corner. Was he that impatient for her to get started? Or was he always dismissive of his wife? The politest way to describe his demeanor during their interview was brusque. Just now, he’d all but tugged her away. The whole thing felt borderline rude.

No wonder the job had come with such great pay. Her new boss had a reputation for being an asshole. Haisley suspected he’d earned it.

“Tell me something, Miss Rowe,” he muttered as he stopped in front of the coffeemaker tucked in the corner and began brewing a cup. “Coffee?”

“I had a cup at home, thanks.”

Mr. Benedict sighed. “What do you think this company’s greatest social media challenge is?”

She hadn’t expected to be put on the spot so soon, but she’d already given this question a lot of thought. “I see a couple of areas of opportunity for you. First, the average person doesn’t have a great opinion of land developers and real-estate moguls in general. I mean, everyone wants to be rich, but no one likes people whoarerich.”

He barked out a laugh. “That’s true, but?—”

“Not your biggest problem, I know. The second issue is that you’ve made a career out of creating retail spaces all over the South, but a lot of them are malls…which are slowly dying.”

“Because you Gen-Z and Millennial types would rather shop on your phones than change out of your pajama pants, comb your hair, leave your houses, and interact with actual people.”

It was Haisley’s turn to laugh. “Guilty. But right now, your biggest problem is something else entirely. Something you don’t know how to stop.”

George paused. “I’m listening.”

“You’re struggling with the disappearances of those young women at Oakfield Mall, right?”

Surprise crossed his face. “You’ve heard about that, huh? Tell me what you know.”

“Only what’s trickled out: that a handful of young women have gone missing these past few months, but nothing comprehensive or detailed. I’ll bet that’s by design. You’ve largely kept a lid on this situation. Normally, the local press would have screamed these salacious headlines. But they’ve barely reported on the incidents.”

Still, if the disturbing string of missing persons became common knowledge, the shit would hit the fan. Mr. Benedict had to be prepared for that possibility. The best defense was a good offense—or however the saying went.

“Because I’ve done everything in my power to keep the situation contained. For reasons that should be obvious.”

George Benedict was clearly more interested in saving his financial ass than the young women who had vanished without a trace. He’d squelched their stories and buried their search efforts under a thick veneer of silence. How long before the victims faded from public consciousness altogether, leaving those captured without hope?

Haisley understood his decision from a business perspective—but she hated it. How could he live with himself as a man? As a human being? “I see.”

“I told the local press I would pull my significant advertising budget if they didn’t keep their mouths shut. In the rare instances that didn’t work, I threatened to sue. So most of the reporting has been page-six stuff, and my name has never been mentioned.” He scowled. “You disapprove.”

Haisley wasn’t surprised that her face gave her away. “People aren’t stupid. You’re well known in this part of the state, and I’m sure they remember the fanfare when the mall opened last spring. The most recent disappearance happening on Christmas Eve was particularly heartrending. That terrified moms everywhere. Has foot traffic been down since?”

“Yes. But I expected that. Christmas is over.”

“Still, these problems must be making an impact.” And whether she disapproved or not, he’d hired her to do a job. “You need an image rehab that shows you’re concerned about customers’ safety without admitting culpability. We’ve got to get you positive community vibes. That’s where I come in.”

And while she devised spin all day because he paid her to, she’d spend her evenings working with JasperThePrivateDick and her CSI group to hopefully solve this case and stop these abductions. Her penance for doing business with the devil.

She had no idea who Jasper was or if that was even his name, but he seemed smart. He was definitely tenacious. Together, they might be able to blow this case wide open. Then there would be no more victims, and she’d have so much positive press to dish out for her new boss that Mr. Benedict would happily reward her. Maybe they’d even be able to find the women who had been abducted. A win all the way around.

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