Beatrice called for me and I thought it was to kill me but no... no, it was worse. It was to witness a summit. A sparring match. A verbal bloodbath dressed up in designer blazers and power lipstick. A passive-aggressive TED Talk on what it looks like when two women who command entire industries with just their resting face… finally lock horns.
Maeve Glasgow walked into Beatrice Harrigan’s office like it was her inheritance. Black sunglasses on indoors, sleeves rolled halfway like she was about to roll a joint and ruin a dynasty. I was sitting in a chair off to the side with a pen I was pretending to take notes with. I had no idea why I was there. Beatrice had said, “Sit,” and Maeve had said, “Stay,” and I was too emotionally damaged to disobey either of them.
“Your little call was dramat
