Corporate Tombstones

Elena stood on the balcony of her forty-second floor office, nursing her third scotch of the evening. Below her, the city sprawled like a circuit board of lights and shadows. She'd finally made it—executive vice president, corner office, the whole fucking pyramid scheme that corporate America had sold her as success since she was twenty-two.

The door clicked open. Frank, her boss of fifteen years, stepped out with his characteristic bullish swagger—the same walk that had terrified her as a junior analyst, now just pathetic. He joined her at the railing, his breath smelling of expensive bourbon and desperation.

"They're not going to promote you to CEO, Elena."

She turned, slowly. "Excuse me?"

"The board. I overheard them. They're bringing in someone younger. Cheaper."

Frank's face crumpled. All that corporate testosterone, the bull-in-a-china-shop act he'd performed for three decades—gone, leaving something softer and infinitely sadder.

"How many affairs did you have, Frank? To get where you are?"

He laughed, a dry, ugly sound. "Lost count after the third. You know what the worst part is? My wife knew. She stayed for the pyramid you see there—our house in the Hamptons, the fucking sailboat. She died three months ago, and I'm still paying on that boat."

A thick coaxial cable snaked along the balcony floor, connecting the satellite dish to the office's private lounge. Frank nudged it with his polished Italian shoe.

"Remember when cable TV was the future? When we thought technology would save us? Now we're just trapped in smaller screens, alone together."

Elena looked at him—really looked—at the man who'd been her mentor, her competition, her enemy. She saw the hollowed-out eyes of someone who'd climbed the pyramid only to find nothing at the top.

"I'm not staying for the promotion, Frank. I'm staying because I don't know who I am without this bullshit."

He nodded, understanding passing between them like a secret. "Here's to being lost, then."

They clinked glasses, two successful strangers hanging by a thread above the city they'd spent their lives conquering, wondering if anything they'd built was worth having at all.