Insiders by Olivia Goldsmith Page A

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    â€˜I guess you’ve probably already heard from Attorney Howard McBane of Swithmore, McBane, or from Thomas Branston at Hudson, Van Schaank & Michaels,’ Jennifer began. ‘Or maybe Mr Michaels himself called.’ Before Gwen had a chance to respond, Jennifer crossed her legs, leaned in toward Gwen, and continued. ‘This situation has gotten a little out of control, I’m afraid. I wasn’t meant to come here at all, and I certainly should not have had a rectal or pelvic exam. When I speak with my attorney I’mgoing to have to mention it and see if legal action should be taken.’
    â€˜Legal action?’ Gwen asked. She was getting more than just annoyed with this woman.
    â€˜Yes,’ Jennifer said flatly, ‘I am neither a drug offender nor a smuggler. The invasive examination wasn’t needed. And your intake officer didn’t seem to have any medical education.’ She took a deep breath, and Gwen saw that, in spite of her bravado, the girl was trembling. Gwen felt a stab of pity for the girl as she watched her toss her head back and continue. ‘Anyway, I’d like to talk about Attorney Branston’s arrangements for my special needs while my appeal is being heard.’
    â€˜Special needs?’ Gwen echoed.
    â€˜Did he tell you that I would like a sunny room? And I can’t have a roommate because I’ll be keeping late hours. If desks and laptops are not standard issue then I’ll need to get one of each.’
    Gwen merely blinked.
    â€˜Also, I’ll need access to a copier and hopefully some secretarial help. I don’t know if you have a trained staff, but I’d be more than willing to pay for someone to come in.’
    Gwendolyn Harding sat in a state of stunned disbelief as 71036 enumerated her expectations of ‘white-glove treatment’ and ‘special considerations’. This wasn’t the standard protestation of innocence, but rather a list of demands from the kind of young woman who was used to giving orders – and having them carried out. Not even when women like Margaret Rafferty – someone from a very high social position – were taken in had Gwen run into this lack of reality and misguided arrogance. Did Spencer really think Jennings would revolve around her ? Who had led her tothink such a thing? Her boss? Her success on Wall Street? Spencer’s file indicated that she was clearly not from the kind of social background that would justify such an astonishing sense of self-importance.
    Gwen took a deep breath. Whatever the reason for it, this was not an attitude that would allow Spencer to survive within the prison population. And it certainly was not endearing her to Gwen, either. The longer Gwen listened, the tighter the muscles cramped in her neck, jaw, and throat. All of her life she had fought a debilitating stammer when confronted with ignorance and pride. Years of speech therapy had taught her to modulate her breathing, focus her thoughts, and to speak in a rhythmic pattern that allowed no time for a stutter. She had managed to control it throughout the horrible JRU meeting, but now she felt that the stammer would return and it angered her. When she was certain that she had mastered her own emotions, Gwen placed her hands on her desk and leaned her face close to 71036. ‘Your opinion to the contrary, Miss Spencer, you are not – in charge – here.’
    The rhythm of the statement echoed ‘On your mark – get set – go.’ But the intention was not to start a race, but to stop Jennifer Spencer dead in her tracks. It worked. Spencer shut up and paled. This result pleased Gwen, and consequently she felt the spasm of anger release its grip from her throat. She would not be intimidated by this young woman, nor would she let her forget why they were both here. Jennifer Spencer needed Gwendolyn Harding’s help.
    â€˜ You are here – to get – help,’