Their eyes meet. And in that moment, Harrison makes his choice. He deliberately places his hands behind his back and states plainly, I don’t shake hands with staff.
The room falls uncomfortably silent. Some executives look away, embarrassed but unwilling to intervene. Others smirk slightly, complicit.
Olivia doesn’t show shock or hurt. Only a calm, evaluative gaze. In her mind, this isn’t a new wound but confirmation.
This is exactly the evidence she came to find. The pattern she’s encountered throughout her 20 year climb through finance’s hostile terrain. Without breaking eye contact with Harrison, Olivia reaches for her phone and sends a one word text to her waiting team.
Execute. If you’ll excuse me, Olivia says evenly, rising from her seat. I need to use the restroom.
Harrison waves dismissively, already turning his attention back to Alan. The men immediately resume their conversation as if Olivia had never been there. In the privacy of an empty bathroom stall, Olivia allows herself three deep breaths.
Not from distress, but to center her focus. Her hand is steady as she dials a number on her phone. David, she says when her CFO answers.
Initiate phase one. Both options are ready, David confirms. The investment package or the withdrawal strategy.
The team is parked two blocks away. On your word, we’ll start signaling concerns to key market analysts. Begin subtle market signals now, Olivia instructs.
Make it look organic, just enough to get attention without revealing our hand. And the full documentation package? Prepare it, I’ve recorded everything. They’ve given us exactly what we came for.
She ends the call, studies her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back has navigated rooms like this her entire career. Rooms where her competence was questioned, her presence resented, her value diminished.
But today is different. Today she holds power they haven’t bothered to recognize. Meanwhile, in the conference room, Harrison chuckles with his team.
Another diversity box checked, he says, loosening his tie. Corporate relations will be pleased we took the meeting. Now, about the Peterson acquisition.
His assistant hurries in, tablet in hand, expression anxious. Sir, there’s something you should see. Harrison frowns at the interruption.
What is it, Jessica? She shows him the screen. Terra Nova’s stock has unexpectedly dipped 1.2% in the last 15 minutes. No negative news has broken.
No explanation is apparent. Probably just normal fluctuation, Harrison dismisses, though a flicker of concern crosses his face, nothing to worry about. When Olivia returns, the mood in the room has subtly shifted.
Several executives are checking their phones. Computer screens display stock tickers. Is something wrong? Olivia asks innocently.
Nothing to concern yourself with, Harrison replies curtly. Just some market movement. Listen, Ms., he pauses, realizing he’s never properly acknowledged her surname.
I think we’ve covered everything for today. I’m sure you understand we have real business matters to attend to. Of course, Olivia agrees pleasantly.
I just need one final meeting with you alone, Mr. Harrison. Then I’ll be on my way. Annoyed but eager to conclude her visit, Harrison agrees, leading her to his office while instructing his team to investigate the stock movement.
Once the door closes, Olivia’s demeanor shifts subtly, still composed but with an unmistakable firmness. I’d like to review my experience at Terra Nova today, she begins, her voice measured. I was kept waiting for 45 minutes.
Directed to a side area rather than your VIP lounge. Presented with childish explanations of basic concepts. Asked repeatedly if I could follow along.
Interrupted when discussing finance. Referred to only by my first name. Told my perspective was only valuable as a token.
And finally, explicitly refused a handshake with the statement that you don’t shake hands with staff. Harrison begins to interrupt, but Olivia continues methodically, her tone never rising. I’ve recorded our entire interaction, legally as Georgia is a one party consent state.
Harrison’s face darkens as his phone buzzes with an incoming call flagged, urgent, major shareholders. Harrison’s phone buzzes again, then again. He glances between it and Olivia, conflict evident on his face.
I need to take this, he says finally, no longer bothering with false courtesy. While Harrison speaks in hushed, urgent tones, Olivia observes his office. The trophies of success displayed with deliberate prominence.
The photographs with celebrities and politicians. The conspicuous absence of any women or people of color in leadership roles captured in the company photos. What do you mean down 3%? Harrison hisses into his phone.
There’s no news, no announcement, nothing. He listens, face growing increasingly tense. Johnson Capital Partners, never heard of them.
Why would they? He falls silent, listening. His eyes dart to Olivia, then back to his desk. He taps furiously at his computer keyboard, color draining from his face as he reads something on the screen.