Charles Newell's office is spotless. Unnervingly tidy. Standing in it makes you feel as though you have intruded on a magazine photo shoot about anal-retentive work environments. His desk, which looks out onto 55th Street in Hyde Park, gleams : There's not a stray folder, staple or scrap in sight. At the center of the room is a long wooden meeting table that is even shinier than his desk. And as for the carpet, it ap…
