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worked for years as a school janitor before he died, and whose mother had serious partying and responsibility issues.  Her father earned far less in months than the modest expense check Colgate had given the finalists just to participate in their twelve-week program. 
       And when the other finalists asked and Bree told them that she had graduated, not from any Ivy League university, but from Mississippi Coastal Law School, they looked at her, looked her up and down in fact, and then dismissed her out of hand with their eyes, with their body language, with the way they resumed the talk that only people of their social class could appreciate. 
       And just like that, after only one question and one answer, Bree was relegated to the back of the bus.  Was the odd girl out again.   And that doubt that had plagued her all of her life, tried to insinuate itself upon her once more, tried to make it clear that she was way out of her league. 
       But she ignored that voice, and listened to her father’s reassuring voice, instead.
       They all eventually sat down, and while they continued talking, Bree listened and observed.  Her stiffest competition would come from Deidra Dentry and Prudence Cameron, she’d decided, because they were the leaders of what Bree called the pretty Prada girls, the ones who had the total package: the great looks and the great intellect.  And Deidra Dentry, with her long blonde hair and brightest blue eyes, presented herself as the prettiest and smartest of them all.
       And although many would conclude that Bree could easily be classified as pretty too, although it would be more along the lines of something about her than pure attractiveness, she never saw herself that way.  She wouldn’t have a clue how to use any feminine wiles to get some man to bend to her will, while Deidra and Prudence behaved like they were born to bend men, born to seduce every one. 
       But Bree wasn’t moved.  Her brains and hard work had gotten her there, and her brains and hard work, rather than any feminine wiles, would lead her to victory. 
       Alan DeFrame, along with Mark Ellerbee, his tall, razor thin, blonde-haired assistant, entered the board room just as some of the finalists were arguing over the merits of the Citizens United Supreme Court decision.  It was a tired fight, it seemed to Bree, but they were fighting it tooth and nail, until Alan and Mark walked in.
        After answering a series of housekeeping questions and process questions, Alan announced that they would be going to meet the boss.
       “The boss?” Prudence, one of the pretty Prada girls, asked excitedly.  “You mean Robert Colgate?  We’re going to meet Robert Colgate?”
       “That’s right,” Alan said as he stood, causing everybody to stand to their feet as well.  “You will get to meet the head man himself.  And remember this:  We’re like Vegas.  What goes on in this program, stays in this program.   Not even Mr. Colgate is privy to our conversations, and he has no problem with that.  Understand?”  They all nodded, or verbalized, their understanding.  It was like a cult, it seemed to Bree.  They wanted in, and would do whatever it took to get in. 
       Alan turned to Mark Ellerbee.  “Call Hyacinth and find out where he is.”
       “I’m on it,” Mark said, pulling out his cell phone, following behind a fast-walking Alan DeFrame, as all of the finalists followed, too.
***
He was in the executive dining room on the top floor of the Colgate building.  Bree thought it ridiculous that all of them would march into a dining hall and interrupt the man’s breakfast, but Alan had no qualms about it whatsoever.  He led them through the dining hall and then into a private room within the hall, a room so exclusive that Alan wasn’t even senior enough to dine.  Near the back in that room, at a rather