nickname.
It’s not a boy’s name that was supposed to be cute on a
girl. A lot of women in businesses use initials: M. H. Perkins, or M.
Hall Perkins. They think it makes them serious. They’re wrong.
It does not endear them to that man in the back office, and that is
the only game being played.”
“It is?”
“You must impress the man
who has the power to say yes. He doesn’t want to be fooled, or
to be in business with any person of either sex who is insecure
enough to hide things. The only thing worse is a hyphenated name –
the woman is married, which is a fact that has very big pluses and
minuses that have to be managed carefully. But the hyphenation
implies some kind of nonconformist convictions about men and women
that she wants to advertise. The man in the back office is not
interested in thinking about that. He’s interested in getting
more money. He wants to deal with somebody who is going to get lots
of money and pay him some of it.”
“Okay, so Mary Perkins
makes it in the door, and M. H. Perkins doesn’t.”
“Right. She’s at the
door now. She’s energetic and cheerful and well scrubbed, and
she has hair that’s a bit on the long side and high heels and
subtle makeup, but not so subtle that he can’t tell she
bothered. She wears good jewelry, but very little of it, and it’s
small. If Mary is married for this meeting, it’s a solitaire
diamond that’s just a little bigger than an honest banker can
afford, and that’s all. If she’s not, maybe a lapel pin.
Why? Because that’s the way the women who end up with the most
money look. The most common way to get it is still to marry it, so
Mary is feminine.”
“It doesn’t sound as
though he’s thinking about Mary Perkins as a business partner.”
“I’m not talking
about the deal. I’m talking about the first impression –
unconscious, probably – the five seconds from the door to the
chair. Finance is a tough business. The guy is smart, and above all
he’s patient. He’s seen a lot on the way to the corner
office. In order to automatically get back ten percent of his loan
each year, he has to lend the money to somebody who will win –
who will use his money to make fifteen percent. What I’m
describing for you is the sort of woman he can be made to believe
will win.”
“How did Mary Perkins get
to the point where people are hunting for her?”
Mary Perkins shook her head as
though she were marveling at it. “There was a lot of wild stuff
in the papers when I went to trial. My lawyer told me that if I went
for the plea bargain, it didn’t matter how much I agreed to
admit I took, because I was already broke. The prosecutor could use a
ridiculous number to help her look good, and I would declare
bankruptcy and never have to pay a dime. It didn’t work that
way. Now people think I was one of the ones who ended up with the big
money. They want it. I don’t have it.”
“Who are these people?”
“That’s part of the
problem. It could be anybody.”
Jane looked at her for a moment.
Mary was slouching in the passenger seat, looking out the window at
the darkness. When she turned to meet Jane’s gaze her eyes were
wide with wonder and a touch of injury. What she was saying coincided
with the truth in one spot: there was no way of limiting the number
of people who might be interested in robbing a woman who had stolen
millions of dollars. But this did not alter the fact that Mary
Perkins knew who was after her tonight, and that she insisted she
didn’t. Jane said, “Why were you in county jail?”
Mary Perkins shrugged. “Parole
violation. I saw those men and tried to leave town.”
Jane stifled the annoyed
response that rose to her tongue. Mary obviously was experienced
enough to know that the best lies were short and simple. Where did
the lie begin? She might have noticed that men were following her,
but she had not tried to leave town because of that.
Something else must have
happened first – something that
It’s not a boy’s name that was supposed to be cute on a
girl. A lot of women in businesses use initials: M. H. Perkins, or M.
Hall Perkins. They think it makes them serious. They’re wrong.
It does not endear them to that man in the back office, and that is
the only game being played.”
“It is?”
“You must impress the man
who has the power to say yes. He doesn’t want to be fooled, or
to be in business with any person of either sex who is insecure
enough to hide things. The only thing worse is a hyphenated name –
the woman is married, which is a fact that has very big pluses and
minuses that have to be managed carefully. But the hyphenation
implies some kind of nonconformist convictions about men and women
that she wants to advertise. The man in the back office is not
interested in thinking about that. He’s interested in getting
more money. He wants to deal with somebody who is going to get lots
of money and pay him some of it.”
“Okay, so Mary Perkins
makes it in the door, and M. H. Perkins doesn’t.”
“Right. She’s at the
door now. She’s energetic and cheerful and well scrubbed, and
she has hair that’s a bit on the long side and high heels and
subtle makeup, but not so subtle that he can’t tell she
bothered. She wears good jewelry, but very little of it, and it’s
small. If Mary is married for this meeting, it’s a solitaire
diamond that’s just a little bigger than an honest banker can
afford, and that’s all. If she’s not, maybe a lapel pin.
Why? Because that’s the way the women who end up with the most
money look. The most common way to get it is still to marry it, so
Mary is feminine.”
“It doesn’t sound as
though he’s thinking about Mary Perkins as a business partner.”
“I’m not talking
about the deal. I’m talking about the first impression –
unconscious, probably – the five seconds from the door to the
chair. Finance is a tough business. The guy is smart, and above all
he’s patient. He’s seen a lot on the way to the corner
office. In order to automatically get back ten percent of his loan
each year, he has to lend the money to somebody who will win –
who will use his money to make fifteen percent. What I’m
describing for you is the sort of woman he can be made to believe
will win.”
“How did Mary Perkins get
to the point where people are hunting for her?”
Mary Perkins shook her head as
though she were marveling at it. “There was a lot of wild stuff
in the papers when I went to trial. My lawyer told me that if I went
for the plea bargain, it didn’t matter how much I agreed to
admit I took, because I was already broke. The prosecutor could use a
ridiculous number to help her look good, and I would declare
bankruptcy and never have to pay a dime. It didn’t work that
way. Now people think I was one of the ones who ended up with the big
money. They want it. I don’t have it.”
“Who are these people?”
“That’s part of the
problem. It could be anybody.”
Jane looked at her for a moment.
Mary was slouching in the passenger seat, looking out the window at
the darkness. When she turned to meet Jane’s gaze her eyes were
wide with wonder and a touch of injury. What she was saying coincided
with the truth in one spot: there was no way of limiting the number
of people who might be interested in robbing a woman who had stolen
millions of dollars. But this did not alter the fact that Mary
Perkins knew who was after her tonight, and that she insisted she
didn’t. Jane said, “Why were you in county jail?”
Mary Perkins shrugged. “Parole
violation. I saw those men and tried to leave town.”
Jane stifled the annoyed
response that rose to her tongue. Mary obviously was experienced
enough to know that the best lies were short and simple. Where did
the lie begin? She might have noticed that men were following her,
but she had not tried to leave town because of that.
Something else must have
happened first – something that
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