Margaret set her own glass down. "Isaiah, did you grow up in New York?" she asked. He told her he had grown up in the Bronx and that his mother had worked in Midtown for many years. Charles gave a short laugh that suggested he considered the information an explanation for everything he disliked.
"Well, that's quite a journey to table one," Charles said. "You must have worked very hard to get invited." The words were framed as a compliment, but they carried a familiar suggestion: that Isaiah's presence was surprising enough to demand a personal history. Isaiah had heard variations of that suggestion from men who considered themselves generous for permitting someone different into their circle.
"I did work hard," he answered. "So did my mother. So did a lot of people who will never be invited to this table." He looked briefly toward the service doors. "Hard work doesn't seem to be the admission standard here, though."
Margaret pressed her lips together. Eleanor's expression cooled, and Philip shifted in his chair. Charles laughed again, louder this time, because he had begun to feel the table escaping his control. "A little social commentary over dinner," he said. "How educational."
The main course arrived just after nine. Charles received his filet mignon and began describing the advantages of Meridian's sale as though he were giving a speech at the closing bell. He said Apex Horizon was a mysterious financial machine run by a brilliant but absent investor, someone whose distance from daily operations made him an ideal partner. He looked around the table until everyone was watching him again.
"They provide the capital, we provide the leadership," he announced. "Tomorrow morning at nine, the directors meet, and by nine-oh-five the chairmanship will be settled. The new owner needs continuity, and continuity has a name." He lifted his glass, and Eleanor touched hers against it with a faint smile.
Margaret did not lift hers. "Have you actually received a nomination from Apex?" she asked. Charles waved away the question, saying that he had spoken to people who understood the transaction. "People who understand isn't the same as the person signing the documents," Margaret replied.
Charles leaned back in his chair. "There are some things you learn from relationships, Margaret, and some things you can learn from a spreadsheet," he said. "This is one of the former." Then he turned to Isaiah, apparently deciding that the stranger might be useful as an audience for a lecture. "Tell me, acquisitions man, what happens when a buyer starts changing the leadership of a financial institution before understanding its culture?"
"It depends on the culture," Isaiah said. He set his fork down carefully. "If the culture protects the institution, changing it carelessly can cause serious harm. But if the culture rewards weak controls, discourages honest reporting, and mistakes social access for competence, preserving it may be the greatest risk the buyer faces."
Charles stopped cutting his steak. Margaret looked from Isaiah to Charles, and Philip set down his glass without drinking. Eleanor gave a quiet, offended exhale, as though the existence of the hypothetical were itself rude.