Glove drop on Bloomberg Live, 40 seconds long. It crosses 1 million views in 11 minutes. 11:25 a.m. Harrison is still in the conference room. Reporters are shouting questions. He has not answered a single one.
His mouth is open. His hands are at his sides. Edward Brooks approaches him. His own hands are shaking. He has waited 19 years for this.
Sir, Ms. Moore, the woman from last night, the gala. She is Whitney Moore. She is the CEO. What? Sir, I tried to tell you this morning, twice.
Edward holds up his tablet, the Forbes cover. The quiet queen of Park Avenue, Whitney Moore, investor of the year. Her face in three-quarter profile, calm, sharp. Same woman who walked out of the Pierre Hotel 12 hours ago. Harrison looks at the cover.
He looks at the wastebasket. He looks at his bare hands. He whispers to no one in particular, Oh, no. Catherine Anderson is suddenly beside him. Her face is white.
Her voice is quiet, but it cuts. Harrison, get into your office. The board is convening at 1:00 p.m. This is not a request. This is the chair of your board telling you what is happening next. Catherine, listen, we can fix this.
I just need to call her. Harrison, you will not call her. You will not call anyone. You will sit in your office until 1:00, and you will think very carefully about what you did to this company on live television. Do you understand me?
I— Do you understand me? Yes. He walks toward his office. The reporters are still shouting. He does not hear them.
12:03 p.m. Whitmore Industries stock resumes trading. It is down 19%. 4.2 billion dollars in market capitalization has vaporized in 55 minutes. By 12:30, three of his largest clients have asked their PR teams to draft public statements distancing themselves from the company. He sits at his desk.
He looks at his hands. He keeps trying to put on gloves that are not there anymore. Forty floors below, Whitney Moore steps into a black sedan on Park Avenue. Theodore Davis closes the door behind her. She looks out the window at the lobby of the building she has just ended.
She does not smile. She does not cry. She just breathes. At 1:00 sharp, the boardroom on the 48th floor fills with 12 people. Catherine Anderson takes the chair at the head of the table.