Madison could have answered with the company's ownership documents. Instead, she looked down briefly at the printed visitor policy and then back at the two executives. Bradley followed her gaze, but rather than read the policy, he turned toward Sarah. "New girl," he called, "what exactly are we doing about loitering today?"
Sarah had been hired nine months earlier. She was twenty-four, paid barely enough to share an apartment in Queens, and was still carrying student loans from a degree she had worked hard to finish. She had learned quickly that executives at Whitman could distinguish an employee who challenged them from one who pleased them, and they rarely rewarded the former. Still, she tried to speak.
"Sir, she has given me a name and a meeting time. The guest system--"
"I didn't ask for a technical explanation," Bradley said. "I asked whether you're following policy. If you can't handle the desk, perhaps we need someone who can."
Katherine took another sip of juice. "Relax, Bradley. I'm sure it can be sorted out. Just make certain she isn't still here when the new chairwoman comes through."
They walked away, leaving Sarah staring at her monitor. Madison entered both names in her notebook. She underlined one phrase, not because it was the worst thing said that morning, but because it interested her: when the new chairwoman comes through. They were already adjusting their behavior for someone they believed would have power over them. They simply did not believe the woman on the bench could be that person.
Sarah tried the executive assistant line again. A person answered this time and said that the leadership team was unavailable. Sarah began to explain that Madison Parker had identified herself, but the person cut in, saying that all acquisition visitors should come with Sterling escorts. When Sarah asked whether that rule appeared in writing, the voice told her not to create complications during the most important morning in the firm's history.
Madison heard enough to know the problem was spreading upward through the organization. She could have called Olivia, who was already on the forty-third floor waiting to begin the meeting. Her phone carried a direct line to the chair's office and to the transition lawyer authorized to confirm her identity. But she had come to learn what happened when somebody without a direct line asked to be treated according to the rules already printed on the wall.
At ten eleven, Victoria Davis emerged from the elevator with a stack of folders held against her side. Victoria was senior vice president of human resources, and in Madison's diligence file she appeared beside every employee policy presented as evidence of Whitman's commitment to fair treatment. She had signed annual certifications declaring that managers were trained not to retaliate against complaints. She had also presided over a complaint-resolution process whose outcomes were rarely explained to the people who filed them.
Victoria stopped in front of Sarah's desk. "I thought we had talked about walk-ins," she said, gesturing toward the bench without looking at Madison. "If she's here for a temporary position, the hiring office is downstairs. She cannot sit here all morning."