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two years.” Blackburn shifted in his chair. “But that's the future. For the present-”
    “Just a minute. She'l have four APG division managers reporting to her?”
    Sanders said.
    “Yes.■

    “And who are those managers going to be? Has that been decided?”
    “Wel .” Phil coughed. He ran his hands over his chest, and plucked at the handkerchief in his breast pocket. “Of course, the actual decision to name the division managers wil be Meredith's.”
    “Meaning I might not have a job.”
    “Oh hel , Tom,” Blackburn said. “Nothing of the sort. Bob wants everyone in the divisions to stay. Including you. He'd hate very much to lose you.”
    “But it's Meredith Johnson's decision whether I keep my job.”
    “Technical y,” Blackburn said, spreading his hands, “it has to be. But I think it's pretty much pro forma.”
    Sanders did not see it that way at al . Garvin could easily have named al the division managers at the same time he named Meredith Johnson to run the APG.
    If Garvin decided to turn the company over to some woman from Sales, that was certainly his choice. But Garvin could stil make sure he kept his division heads in place the heads who had served him and the company so wel .
    `Jesus,” Sanders said. “I've been with this company twelve years.”
    “And I expect you wil be with us many more,” Blackburn said smoothly. “Look: it's in everybody's interest to keep the teams in place. Because as 1 said, she can't run them directly.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Blackburn shot his cuffs and ran his hand through his hair. “Listen, Tom. I know you're disappointed that this appointment didn't come to you. But let's not make too much of Meredith appointing the division heads. Realistical y speaking, she isn't going to make any changes. Your situation is secure.” He paused. “You know the way Meredith is, Tom.”
    “I used to,” Sanders said, nodding. “Hel , I lived with her for a while. But I haven't seen her in years.”
    Blackburn looked surprised. “You two haven't kept contact?”

    “Not real y, no. By the time Meredith joined the company, I was up here in Seattle, and she was based in Cupertino. I ran into her once, on a trip down there. Said hel o. That's about it.”
    “Then you only know her from the old days,” Blackburn said, as if it al suddenly made sense. “From six or seven years ago.”
    “It's longer than that,” Sanders said. “I've been in Seattle eight years. So it must be . . .” Sanders thought back. “When I was going out with her, she worked for Novel in Mountain View. Sel ing Ethernet cards to smal businesses for local area networks. When was that?” Although he remembered the relationship with Meredith Johnson vividly, Sanders was hazy about exactly when it had occurred.
    He tried to recal some memorable event-a birthday, a promotion, an apartment movethat would mark the date. Final y he remembered watching election returns with her on television: bal oons rising up toward the ceiling, people cheering. She was drinking beer. That had been early in their relationship. “Jesus, Phil. It must be almost ten years ago.”
    “That long,” Blackburn said.
    When Sanders first met Meredith Johnson, she was one of the thousands of pretty saleswomen working in San Jose-young women in their twenties, not long out of col ege, who started out doing the product demos on the computer while a senior man stood beside her and did al the talking to the customer. Eventual y, a lot of those women learned enough to do the sel ing themselves. At the time Sanders first knew Meredith, she had acquired enough jargon to rattle on about token rings and 1OBaseT hubs. She didn't real y have any deep knowledge, but she didn't need to. She was good-looking, sexy, and smart, and she had a kind of uncanny selfpossession that carried her through awkward moments. Sanders had admired her, back in those days. But he never imagined that she had the ability to hold a major corporate