Union Atlantic Page 0,56

the lunar white boards of the dropped ceiling. "It looks as if Jim Lowry is moving over to community relations. Which will leave his position vacant. Is that a job that interests you?"

He allowed the silence that followed to stretch on a few moments.

"Vice president. For operations? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I've been in this office two minutes, and I can tell for a fact you'd be better at the job than he is. Besides, your evaluations have it written all over them. And I know from the look on your face you know that's true. Most of those assholes out there - they're cattle, pension seekers, cowards. Leadership, though. That's the question, right? The one the hiring committee would ponder judiciously before taking dead aim at mediocrity and finding the mark as sure as the men who hired them. Leadership. How fucking debased that word has become, don't you think? Excuse my language. Seminars in swanky hotels where the lemmings take dictation from some retired guru hack. We pay for this shit too, we pay for them to fly off and learn the seven principles of how to manipulate your underlings and keep them cheerful as you do it. Millions a year."

Evelyn Jones neither nodded nor looked away, her attention even and unremitting.

"There's another thing we both know," he said. "You get a big promotion and people - not to your face, of course - say, That figures. Right? African American woman, big corporation, diversity initiative. They do the cultural math and that's what they think. Now, that would piss me off if I were you because you're good at your job. And frankly, while I know a lot of the staff around here think of me as the friendly type, when it comes to management, I don't give a shit who anyone is. I want the machine to work. Because the best parts of it, I built them. That's why I want you to have Lowry's job. And I'd make sure people understood that."

"We're being honest here, Mr. Fanning? Is that the idea?"

"Absolutely. But if you give me a second, I think I know what you're thinking: 'Last night I discover a gaping hole in one of Fanning's trader's scrub accounts and this morning he's in my office offering me a vice presidency. How easy does he think I am?' Am I in the ballpark?"

"Yes," she said, resting back in her chair. "You are."

"McTeague fucked up. Thanks to you, I spent last night on the phone figuring out what happened. It was a favor for a client. I've spoken to him about it, and it'll be worked out. Now, just to be clear," he said, "do I want compliance getting their nose in this? No. Do I read employee e-mail, including yours? Obviously. If you don't already, you will once you move into operations. You'd be negligent not to."

"So you're asking me to keep quiet about a possible loss of three hundred million, not to mention a reporting violation?"

"You're not keeping quiet. I'm his supervisor and I've been notified. What I'm saying is this is how the chairman's office wants to handle the matter. It's how I want to handle the matter. But part of you is still thinking, 'He's only here because he's got a problem and there wouldn't be any of this talk about a vice presidency otherwise.' That's not wrong, of course. It's just not the whole picture. The situation brought you to my attention, that's true, but the fact is I think the bank would make more money if we promoted you. And that's what we're here for, right? You're not a romantic about that, I hope - our purpose?"

"I'm not an innocent," she said. "If that's what you mean."

Doug leaned far enough forward to get a sidelong glance at the framed photographs. In one, a vacation shot, Evelyn and two other women smiled for the camera at an outdoor table under a parasol, a beach in the background. The one beside it appeared to be a family portrait: an older black woman in a blue dress seated in the middle, a much younger Evelyn standing over one of her shoulders, a boy of about fifteen resting his hand on the other.

"Is this your family?"

Her gaze hardened.

"No disrespect, Mr. Fanning, but I'm getting the sense that you already know more about me than I'd care to tell."

The offer of promotion had begun as a piece of improvisational bullshit but he was beginning to think it