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A large office looking out over midtown Manhattan. The view is from the east bank of the East River in Queens, perhaps fifteen stories up. Across the river are some familiar landmarks, including the Chrysler building, although not the Empire State. It’s evening. There ís no desk, just a chaise with a tiny flat screen extended via an aluminum arm above the middle of the chaise. Sloane is an attractive, ageless, middle-aged woman with a sleek helmet of hair, a la Louise Brooks. On one wall there are several screens that show images of Sloane with other middle-aged women on a golf course, at a banquet table, and a meeting — corporate portraits. With a remote control she changes the images — one of her on a beach in a bikini, one in a tight, low-cut ballgown with a handsome man, another of her on a horse. The opposite wall is taken up by a much larger screen, which shows an image of a minimalist canvas — Sol Lewitt, perhaps. She quickly flashes through a series of paintings — Pollock, Motherwell, Picasso, some stuff we don’t recognize — before settling on Caravaggio’s Bacchus: the pretty urchin/angel with full lips and flowers in his hair. She switches through some music before settling on something trancey. Enter Chris, her assistant, a younger man dressed in a tight-fitting black T-shirt and tight yellow bicycle shorts, which do nothing to hide his taut, buff physique. His long blond hair is tied back in a ponytail. And, most conspicuous of all, he’s wearing a codpiece, a big red bulging thing. Chris: You wanted to see me? Sloane: Come in, come in. My God, what a day. Between the meetings and the phone and the mail there’s barely time to breathe, let alone to think. I think it’s important to take the time to look up from the screen and ask ourselves how we’re doing. You know, you’ve been here almost three months, and I feel like we haven’t really had the chance to talk since I hired you. Chris: (Looking confused.) Should I be recording this? Sloane: No, no, no — we’re off duty here. Sit down, relax. This is strictly unofficial. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Chris: (Looking ruefully at his watch, shakes his head.) No thanks. I’m fine. Sloane: (Goes over to the bookshelf; a sliding panel reveals a small bar.) Come on, join me.
Chris: I’m not much of a drinker. Sloane: Sometimes you have to unstring the bow. (She hands him a drink.) Chris: It’s just that I still have work to do on the Pensky file. Sloane: There’s always a Pensky file. There’s always another account, another campaign. I mean, honestly, do you want to be dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s on the Pensky files for the rest of your life? I thought you had more ambition than that. Honestly, I thought you had more vision than that. That’s why I hired you, Chris. I didn’t think you were just another pretty face. Chris: I’m not. I do. I mean, I like to think so. Sloane: (Sitting down on the couch beside him.) Vision, Chris. Sometimes you have to step back to see the big picture. That’s your problem. That’s the problem men have in business. I don’t mean to sound sexist, but most men are too linear, too literal-minded, too goal-directed. Life, which is to say business, is not all about the Pensky file. The shortest distance between two points isn’t necessarily a straight line. Men don’t really get that. It’s not like there’s some vast conspiracy to keep you guys down. But business requires a certain fluidity of perception, a certain Gestalt approach that I think most men lack. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong, but I kind of sensed you were different. Chris: I am. I mean, I think I am. I’d like to be. Sloane: (Looking out the window.) I don’t suppose you even remember the Empire State Building? Chris: I’ve heard of it. I mean, I know what happened and all . . .
Sloane: I was very young, of course. But still . . . Living through those times changed us. I don’t think you can really imagine what that was like back in the last days of the patriarchy . . . (Sighs.) Let me get us a refill. Chris: I’m fine. Sloane: Chris — Have I been talking to myself here? Maybe you should be recording this. Lesson number one: relax. Chris: Well, I guess one more drink wouldn’t hurt. Sloane: No, it wouldn’t. It might give you a little flow. Unclog the channels. Business isn’t all business, Chris. It’s a continuum. Life, business, work, pleasure. It flows. Men basically compartmentalize. This is their problem. Do you know, some of the best business ideas, the best relationships and the biggest deals come out of time spent in the salon or the spa or the wine bar? It’s not all about sitting with your face in front of the screen staring at spreadsheets. It’s not about slaving away in the office twelve hours a day. Business travels home with you and it happens on the tennis court and at the gym. (She sits down next to him on the couch and runs her hand along his leg.) My goodness, somebody’s been going to the gym. Chris: Not as much as I’d like. Mostly I cycle. Sloane: You didn’t get those pecs riding a bicycle. Please tell me they’re not implants. Chris: No way.
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