He went. She sat looking at the coffee and thought about the fact that she had not told Anil about the stairwell, ever, in eighteen months, and that if she told him now she would also have to tell him that she had wanted, in that booth, for one second, to forgive the man who had done what he'd done to Anil's line. And she didn't know how to say that to her friend. She didn't know how to say it to herself.
At ten-thirty, a calendar invite arrived from Constance Yu in Human Resources. *Quick check-in (15 min). Nothing formal!* The exclamation point was doing a great deal of work.
* * *
Constance Yu had been at Farrow & Lisle for three years and was, by general agreement, the most reasonable person in the building, which was a burden, because it meant everyone told her everything. Her office was small and spotless and had a bowl of wrapped peppermints on the desk that no one ever took, because taking one felt like admitting something.
"I want to say first that this is not an investigation," she said, as Margot sat down. "There's no complaint. There's been some chatter, and when there's chatter about two senior people, I'm required to ask one question, and then I'm required to stop asking."
"Ask," said Margot.
"Is there a relationship between you and Wes Delacroix that needs to be disclosed?"
"No."
"Okay." Constance made a note. "Then that's the end of it, from my side. If that changes, the policy is just disclosure. There's a form. It's one page. It's genuinely the dullest form I have. We disclose so we can make sure neither person reviews the other's work or sits on the other's promotions. That's all."
Margot frowned. "That's the whole policy? Disclosure?"
"That's the whole policy."
"Not—" She stopped. "Mr. Farrow's always given the impression it was stricter than that. Between the account side and the creative side especially."
Constance's pen paused over the paper. It was a very small pause, the kind you'd only notice if you made your living noticing what clients didn't say.
"Given the impression how?"
"I don't know. The way he talks. 'Church and state.' He's said that in meetings. 'Account and creative, church and state.'"
"That's a figure of speech," said Constance slowly. "It's not a policy. There's nothing in the handbook that prohibits a relationship between departments. If there were, I'd have written it, and I'd have had to run it past a lawyer, and the lawyer would have said no." She tapped the pen once against her notepad. "Has anyone ever told you otherwise? Formally?"
"No," said Margot, and it was true. Nobody had ever told her anything.
"Okay," said Constance again, and wrote something else, and Margot wished she could read upside down.