The smell of cola had already become nauseating.
Sweet.
Sticky.
Artificial.
She looked down at the stained ivory trousers.
Then at herself in the mirror.
Hair wet.
Makeup streaked slightly near one eye.
Deep breaths.
She allowed herself anger now.
Not in the lobby.
Here.
Private.
Her hands shook.
Wendy gripped the sink.
For a moment she remembered Derek’s face when he tipped the cup.
Enjoyment.
Not impulsive anger.
Performance.
That disturbed her.
People could lose tempers.
Regret immediately.
Derek had wanted laughter.
Wanted audience.
Cruelty as social currency.
A knock.
“Wendy?”
Helen.
“Come in.”
The general counsel entered.
She carried a garment bag.
“You want me to help?”
“No.”
Then Wendy reconsidered.
“Yes.”
Helen helped remove the wet coat without pulling Wendy’s hair.
She looked at the black lace camisole.
“Ruined?”
“Probably.”
“The coat?”
“Maybe.”
Helen’s jaw tightened.
Wendy noticed.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Turn this into property damage.”
Helen stared.
“I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
She sighed.
“Occupational hazard.”
Wendy smiled faintly.
Helen hung the wet clothes over the sink.
Then:
“Are you okay?”
Wendy considered the question.
“No.”
Helen nodded.
Good answer.
Wendy continued:
“I will be.”
“Do you want to postpone the announcement?”
“No.”
“The board meeting?”
“No.”
“The executive introductions?”
“No.”
Helen leaned against the counter.
“Of course not.”
Wendy looked toward the mirror.
“If I go home, the story becomes that this morning defeated me.”
“Would that matter?”
“To me.”
Helen nodded.
Then:
“Derek’s been placed on administrative leave.”
Wendy turned.
“Paid?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Helen looked surprised.
“I thought you’d want him out immediately.”
“I do not know enough.”
“You know he poured cola over you.”
“Yes.”
“That’s enough for misconduct.”
“For discipline.”
“Not necessarily enough for final termination without process.”
Helen smiled faintly.
“You really are going to be difficult.”
“The board was warned.”
Helen laughed.
Wendy changed.
Ivory blouse.
Black trousers.
Simple charcoal blazer.
No dramatic coat.
No lace.
No ruined clothes.
When she emerged, she looked like a different person.
That bothered her.
People would find this version easier to accept as CEO.
She hated that the thought even occurred.
At 10:00, Wendy sat across from Jim Reynolds inside his forty-second-floor office.