Maddie as Hell captured the subtlety of human flaws, hopes, and frailties. Her perceptiveness was addictive, like a secret shared to a select few. Elena had always imagined the blogger to be someone much older, wise, with ancient eyes and a stillness to her.

It was unnerving to work out Maddie as Hell was not ancient, still, or steeped in wisdom. She was just a lost, homesick, young reporter. Someone hapless, chaotic, and unfathomable, not to mention a fashion tragic…and yet she wrote words that stirred Elena.

She shook her head, closed the blog window, and turned to better observe the paradox that was her junior crime reporter. Elena chewed slowly and watched.

* * *

Now that Maddie had seen a crack in Elena’s mask, she found herself curious to find more evidence. She was just bored, she told herself. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the odd way she felt when that intense gaze settled on her and studied her like something of interest. Something to be puzzled out.

Elena did that sometimes. Maddie knew not to read anything into it. In the scheme of the woman’s global empire, Maddie was still a single-cell organism of no consequence.

Lisa had been right about one thing. Maddie was well situated to hear Elena’s conversations. She often caught snatches of phone calls. Sometimes Elena spoke to her husband, and there was a tone to her voice that Maddie found hard to pin down. It was neither cool nor warm. The pitch never seemed much beyond professional or, occasionally, pleased. It was all so one note and… She paused, surprised when she finally identified it. Almost bored. Yes, that was it.

Elena’s husband bored her? Hell. Maddie felt sad for her.

The only warmth and softness Maddie heard was reserved for discussing someone called Oscar. Suspicions of an illicit affair abruptly ended, however, when Elena requested her housekeeper get him neutered and his toenails clipped.

Maddie also was well positioned to see who came for meetings. Occasionally, men with cheap suits and document tubes under their arms would arrive, not making eye contact with any Hudson Metro staff. Sometimes the suits would be expensive, the men’s gazes not shifty but smug, and they would shake Elena’s hand with authority and be pointed to visitors’ chairs, the door closing.

“Board members,” Felicity said once, when she caught Maddie’s curious stare. “A necessary evil.”

“I thought Bartell Corp was her company? Isn’t she like the queen of all she surveys? Why does she have to put up with anyone she doesn’t want to?”

“Yes, of course it’s hers. But it’s a publicly listed company. She’s president and chief operating officer. She still has the board, the chairman, and CEO to be nice to. And the CFO, as well, if she’s outlaying some large expenditures.”

“Right,” Maddie said, becoming curious. “Do they say no often?”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “Even once is too often. They think she just comes up with her business decisions on a whim. But she always has a plan, even if they’re not smart enough to see it.”

Maddie studied the men in suits. Only one of them touched Elena’s arm, and she allowed the familiarity. His photo was in a framed picture on the wall behind Elena’s desk. “Who’s the tall one with silver hair?”

Felicity’s face became the perfect impression of someone sucking on a lemon. “Frank Harkness. They go a long way back. He mentored her when she first started out in corporate media. He’s the one board member she actually likes.”

Maddie’s gaze drifted over the rest of the men. “They all look like funeral directors.”

Felicity’s purple lips contorted once and then let out a strange, sharp burble.

Maddie looked at her in confusion before realising she was laughing.

“Yes,” Felicity said, head bobbing. “They do.”

Felicity straightened as though she had suddenly remembered laughing on the job was unprofessional. “Enough show and tell. Get back to poking the dead. I have a big speech to write.”

Maddie took the hint and turned to face her computer.

Ten seconds later, Felicity threw down her pen and coughed.

Maddie spun back around. The chief of staff looked bursting to say something. “Yes?”

“It’s Elena,” Felicity said, practically vibrating with pent-up excitement. “I’m writing a speech, because she’s New York’s Businessperson of the Year.” She beamed. “Of course, it’s only right. I mean, who else has done what she has? Taken a little publishing company into a global concern?”

Who else, indeed? Maddie sat back. Well. This news deserved some sort of recognition.

* * *

Elena walked into work the next day, head reeling from some of the absurd budget cuts Jana Macy had suggested for Style Sydney. Macy truly thought removing the free magazines on the coffee tables in her building’s foyer was one of the “serious cuts” Elena had demanded of her? The woman was delusional. She sighed. She would have to fire her. Incompetence surrounded her.

Elena dropped her Hermes handbag on her desk and paused. A strange plant had been placed two feet away. She sat cautiously and studied it. The plant was a bright, glossy green with a thick stem that looked related to the parsley family.

“Felicity,” she said with a low growl, “why is there parsley on my desk?”

Felicity scampered into her office. “I…oh…have no idea at all. I thought you’d put it… I mean… Is that…? I don’t think it is parsley. My sister works at some herbology place; I could ask her what it is. I mean if you’d like?”

“A herbology place?” Elena peered at her, astonished at the thought anyone in Felicity’s family was less than a type-A career climber.

“She’s the black sheep in the family. I mean…hippie, greenie, crystals, the whole bit,” Felicity said as though it were a grim confession. She took out her iPhone, took a snap of the plant, and tapped a few buttons in the phone.

Elena’s gaze shifted past her, outside her office. The crime desk was empty, but since it wasn’t even close to five yet, Grey was not likely to be the culprit. This time. She cast her eye about for other suspects.

“It’s an Angelica archangelica.” Her chief of staff smiled at her sister having identified the weed for her. As she kept reading her phone, her smile fell away.

“What is it?” Elena asked.

“Oh, um, never mind, it’s…probably, I mean…”

“Felicity.” She levelled a cool glare at her until the woman wilted.

“It goes by a lot of names, holy ghost root, um, archangel, masterwort. Popular in…” Felicity gulped in a breath. “Ah, witchcraft and…” Her face screwed up, and she winced.

Witchcraft? Elena felt her irritation stir. “And?” She waited, drumming her fingers on the desk.

“Exorcisms.”

She gave Felicity a long, cold stare. Well, it had been a while since some underling had decided on a full-frontal attack. At least this one was original. In years gone by, she had been left shark teeth, sex toys, voodoo dolls, and devil tridents. “I see. We’re done.”

“I don’t think whoever did this… I mean maybe it was just a j-joke.”

“We’re done.” With that Elena swept the plant into her waste bin, clamped down on her jaw, and focused on work.

* * *

Maddie was in a pretty awesome mood by the time she returned to work after sneaking in her green offering that morning. Her latest blog post had been well received. And one of her followers, Jason, had been really complimentary about it. He was a single dad who really felt the isolation of his city more than most. It felt nice to have helped him feel more connected to others.

She settled into her chair and—as had become her habit these days—immediately pivoted to look into the office behind her. There was just something about Elena that drew Maddie to her. She couldn’t explain it if she’d tried. Elena was like a curious knot to unpick.

The media mogul’s expression made Maddie freeze. She was bent over her desk, typing furiously. Her mouth was pulled down. Was she angry? She might just be focused, so that didn’t mean anything. Maddie strained to see, but couldn’t spot the plant she’d placed there this morning. Huh.

She wasn’t entirely sure she’d gotten the exact variety of Angelica right, but her internet search last night said it meant “inspiration”. As Felicity had said, Elena had taken a little publishing company into a global concern. That was something inspiring.