It's 7:15 a.m.

Jessica stood in front of Carter Holdings’ glass doors, breathing in deeply like someone about to run a marathon she didn’t train for. She adjusted her bun, squared her shoulders, and whispered to herself:

“Okay. It’s Vivienne Carter. Not a lion. You will not die.”

She stepped inside.

Vivienne arrived at 7:29 a.m. sharp heels clicking with the confidence of someone who had never been late in her life.

“Jessica,” she said without slowing down. “Walk with me.”

Jessica practically jogged behind her.

Vivienne’s voice was rapid-fire.

“I need my schedule updated, all my emails filtered, a call placed to my stylist, and coffee that tastes like...