Corporate Gardens

Elena stared at the spinach caught between Marcus's teeth—green and stubborn, like the man himself. The quarterly review meeting stretched into its third hour, and she watched him gesture expansively, that emerald fleck flashing with every enthusiastic hand movement.

'You have to think like a fox,' Marcus was saying, leaning over the conference table. 'Cunning. Adaptive. Willing to raid the henhouse when necessary.' His assistant Sarah nodded vigorously, as if Marcus had just delivered scripture rather than business jargon.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, a red fox darted through the corporate campus gardens, pausing near the birdbath. The CEO had insisted on the landscaping—sustainable, native, wild. Elena thought it was just another way to avoid looking at the spreadsheets.

The fox moved with deliberate grace, unlike Marcus, whose movements were all nervous energy. Last month, he'd promised her the lead on the Biotech merger. This morning, the announcement email had come: Marcus would lead. Elena would 'support.'

She'd asked him about it yesterday, while they both waited for their respective salads to be assembled at the cafeteria downstairs. 'I thought we had a deal,' she'd said. He'd looked away, stirring his dressing with unusual intensity.

'It's complicated,' he'd mumbled. 'Politics. You know how it is.' He'd picked at his spinach, suddenly fascinated by the arrangement of leaves on his plate.

Elena's golden retriever, Buster, had more integrity in his wagging tail than Marcus possessed in his entire body. Buster didn't pretend loyalty while positioning himself for a better treat. Buster didn't smile to your face while emailing the CEO about 'restructuring concerns.'

The fox outside caught something—a mouse, maybe—and trotted away with its prize, disappearing into the carefully tended shrubbery. At least animals hunted honestly.

'So,' Marcus concluded, 'I'll be taking point on the merger. Elena, you'll have the secondary role, but it's still significant exposure.' He flashed that smile again, the spinach still dancing with his breath.

She thought about saying something. About pointing out the green speck, about mentioning their conversation, about asking what had happened to 'we're in this together.' About noting that Buster had better professional ethics than either of them.

Instead, Elena nodded. 'Of course, Marcus. Congratulations.'

The fox reemerged near the glass, pausing to look directly at her. Its amber eyes held something she hadn't felt in weeks: recognition. Then it slipped away, vanishing into the corporate wilderness where cunning, not loyalty, kept you alive.