Rosa looked toward the doorway.
“Did Brittany send you down?”
Evelyn nodded.
Rosa sighed.
“Of course she did.”
The younger man looked up.
“What did she do this time?”
“Nothing we haven't seen before,” Rosa replied.
Then she turned back to Evelyn.
“Did she tell you that you were hired?”
“No.”
“Did she give you paperwork?”
“No.”
Rosa frowned.
“Then why are you here?”
Evelyn considered her answer.
“I wanted to understand how things work.”
Rosa stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
“Well, honey, you picked the right place. Nobody understands how things work around here better than the people who clean up after everyone else.”
The young man smiled.
His name was Daniel Price.
He was twenty-six years old and had been working at Sterling Dynamics for eleven months.
Before that, he had been studying computer engineering.
His mother had become ill during his final semester.
Medical bills had forced him to leave school.
Now he worked two jobs to help support his family.
Evelyn learned all of this within ten minutes.
Not because she interrogated him.
Because she listened.
And Daniel, apparently unused to someone taking an interest in his life, kept talking.
“I actually applied for a junior technician position here,” he admitted.
“What happened?”
“They told me I didn't have the right qualifications.”
“Were you close to finishing your degree?”
“One semester.”
“Did they offer training?”
Daniel laughed.
“No. They offered me a mop.”
Rosa shot him a warning look.
“Daniel.”
“What?” he said. “It's true.”
Evelyn leaned against the table.
“Who interviewed you?”
“Mr. Whitmore. Director of Operations.”
Evelyn knew the name.
Richard Whitmore.
Fifty-one years old.
Annual compensation: $680,000.
Stock incentives: $1.3 million.
Performance bonuses: approximately $400,000.
He had been described in the acquisition documents as an exceptional operational leader.
Evelyn wondered whether his definition of exceptional included recognizing talent when it arrived without the right clothes.
“What about you?” she asked Rosa. “How long have you worked here?”
“Seventeen years.”
“Seventeen?”
Rosa nodded proudly.
“Started when this building was half the size.”
“Do you like your job?”
Rosa paused.
The question seemed to catch her off guard.
“I like working,” she said eventually. “I like doing something useful. I like earning my own money.”
Then she looked down at her hands.
“But I don't always like the way people make me feel while I'm doing it.”
The room grew quiet.
Evelyn waited.
Rosa continued.
“My husband passed away six years ago. I raised three children. Two finished college. My youngest is studying nursing.”
She smiled faintly.
“I cleaned offices so they could have opportunities I never had.”
“That sounds like something to be proud of,” Evelyn said.
Rosa's eyes softened.
“Thank you.”
Then her smile disappeared.
“But upstairs, they act like we're invisible.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Invisible would be better. At least invisible people don't get yelled at.”
The woman rubbing her wrist finally spoke.
“My name is Grace.”
Evelyn turned toward her.
“It's nice to meet you, Grace.”
Grace was thirty-eight.
She had a small scar above her eyebrow and dark circles beneath her eyes.
“Last month,” Grace said, “I slipped while cleaning the executive restroom.”
Rosa immediately looked uncomfortable.
“Grace, you don't have to—”
“No,” Grace interrupted. “I'm tired of pretending.”
She turned toward Evelyn.
“The floor was wet because one of the pipes had been leaking for weeks. We reported it three times.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Were you injured?”
Grace held up her wrist.
“Sprained it badly. The doctor told me not to lift anything heavy for two weeks.”
“Did the company give you medical leave?”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“They told me I should have been more careful.”
Evelyn felt her stomach tighten.
“Who told you that?”
“Mr. Whitmore.”
The name again.
“And when I asked about workers' compensation,” Grace continued, “he said people who cause problems don't last long around here.”
Rosa placed a hand on Grace's shoulder.
“That's enough.”
But Evelyn shook her head gently.
“No. Let her finish.”
Grace looked at her.
There was something in Evelyn's voice.
Not pity.
Not curiosity.
Authority.
The kind that came naturally to someone accustomed to making difficult decisions.
Grace straightened.
“They cut my hours the following week. Said business was slow.”
“Was it?”
Daniel snorted.
“We've been busier than ever.”
Evelyn looked around the room.
The cleaning supplies were old.
Several bottles had handwritten labels.
One mop handle was repaired with electrical tape.
A small fan rattled in the corner.
Above the sink, a faded poster read:
STERLING DYNAMICS: PEOPLE ARE OUR GREATEST ASSET.
Evelyn stared at it.
Then she asked quietly:
“Do any of you know who bought this company?”
Daniel shrugged.
“Some investment group.”
“Carter something,” Rosa said.
“Carter Global Holdings,” Grace added.
Evelyn nodded.
“What have you heard about them?”
Daniel laughed.
“That they're rich.”
Rosa folded her arms.
“That they're going to fire half the building.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Who told you that?”
“Management.”
“Which manager?”
Rosa hesitated.
“Mr. Whitmore said the new owners only care about profits. Said we'd better be grateful for whatever hours we get.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Her company had acquired Sterling Dynamics with the stated intention of expanding research, protecting jobs, and investing in employee development.
The board had approved a three-year workforce investment plan.
There were no plans for mass layoffs.
Someone was deliberately spreading fear.
And fear, Evelyn knew, was one of the oldest management tools in the world.
It kept employees silent.
It kept them obedient.
And it made even unreasonable demands seem preferable to unemployment.
A loud voice suddenly echoed from the hallway.
“ROSA!”
Everyone froze.
Rosa closed her eyes.
“Oh, Lord.”
A heavyset man in an expensive navy suit appeared in the doorway.
His face was flushed.
His tie was slightly crooked.
He carried a large paper coffee cup.
Evelyn recognized him immediately from the acquisition documents.
Richard Whitmore.
Director of Operations.
He looked around the room with open irritation.
“Why are you all standing around?”
Rosa stepped forward.
“We're preparing the morning assignments, sir.”
Whitmore glanced at the clock.
“Preparing? It's almost nine!”
“We had a supply issue—”
“I don't want excuses.”
His eyes moved toward Evelyn.
He frowned.
“Who is this?”
Before Rosa could answer, Daniel said, “She's new.”
Whitmore looked Evelyn up and down.
“Another one?”
He turned toward Rosa.
“Do you people understand how much money this department costs?”
Rosa lowered her head.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why do I keep seeing employees standing around doing nothing?”
Evelyn spoke.
“Perhaps because they're discussing workplace injuries and equipment shortages.”
Whitmore turned slowly.
“What did you say?”
Evelyn met his gaze.
“I said they appear to be discussing legitimate operational concerns.”
The room went silent.
Whitmore stared at her as though a chair had suddenly begun speaking.
“Who gave you permission to address me?”
Evelyn tilted her head.
“Do employees need permission to speak?”
Whitmore's expression darkened.
“Rosa. Explain to your new hire how things work around here.”
Rosa's face went pale.
“Sir, she isn't—”
Whitmore raised his hand.
“Enough.”
He stepped closer to Evelyn.
“Let me make something perfectly clear. I don't know where you worked before, but this is a professional organization. We have standards.”
Evelyn glanced at the broken mop.
Then at Grace's swollen wrist.
Then at the leaking ceiling.
“Apparently,” she said.
Whitmore narrowed his eyes.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“I'm observing.”
“Then observe this.”
He pointed toward the hallway.
“The executive restroom on the twenty-second floor needs to be cleaned before the board arrives. Brittany says someone left it in unacceptable condition.”
Evelyn remained still.
Whitmore continued.
“You'll go upstairs, clean every toilet, polish every sink, and make sure that place looks spotless.”
He paused.
Then added:
“And don't touch the executive refreshments. Those are for important guests.”
Daniel looked down.
Rosa pressed her lips together.
Grace's eyes filled with anger.
Evelyn simply asked:
“What happens if I refuse?”
Whitmore laughed.
“You'll be unemployed before lunch.”
Evelyn studied his face.
Then she smiled.
Not warmly.
Not cruelly.
Just enough to make him uncomfortable.