Damage Control

Ben

On Tuesday, the Investors wanted to talk. A handful of wealthy people were invested in my company, pumping in money when we needed it. Their returns were worth their while, and I had always had a good working relationship with them, despite how many times the company had changed hands.

Everything was up in the air, now. They weren’t as happy with me as they were before. Now that everything had come out on the news, they weren’t happy at all.

“How credible are these rumors about the mafia?” one of them asked.

“We’re losing money over this,” another said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. It’s affected the company horribly.”

“Gentleman,” I said, stopping the conversation. “I know you’re worried. You have every right to be.”

“How are we to know what’s going on?” another one of them said before I could say anything else. “You just took off without an explanation.”

“Nothing like this ever happened while Lambert was involved. This looks bad for all of us.”

When he talked about Unc