Lunch Hour Blues

Marcus adjusted his fedora, trying to look like a man who had his shit together. The hat was a ridiculous affectation he'd picked up at a thrift store, but it made him feel distinct from the corporate drones swimming through the office every day.

The lunch break crowd gathered around the hotel pool as usual. Marcus watched them from his table: men loosening ties, women slipping off heels, everyone performing the same tired rituals of pretending this was relaxation. He spotted Victoria across the water, her laughter floating over with practiced ease. She'd stopped wearing her wedding ring three months ago.

"Mind if I join?" she asked, appearing beside him. Before he could answer, a golden retriever appeared from nowhere, tail wagging, and collapsed at Marcus's feet. Victoria laughed. "Well, someone likes you."

"Probably smells my desperation," Marcus said, scratching the dog's ears.

"We're all desperate, Marcus. Some of us just hide it better."

The dog, who wore a small bandana that read 'Cabela,' rested his head on Marcus's shoe. This simple gesture of trust from a creature whose name he didn't know nearly broke something loose inside him.

"Your team," Victoria said, nodding toward the pool. "How's the project going?"

"Fine."

"Marcus, I saw the preliminary numbers. You're drowning."

He looked at the pool where his colleagues splashed and postured, desperately trying to stay afloat in water that was only four feet deep. "We're all drowning."

"I can help," she said softly. "But there's a price."

The air between them thickened with possibility and danger. This was what he'd been waiting for, wasn't it? Recognition from someone who saw past the fedora and the quiet desperation.

"I'm meeting Morrison tonight," she continued, naming the vice president who'd been grooming Marcus for months, dangling promotions like bait. "He thinks you're loyal. But I know you're just hungry."

Marcus looked at the dog, who was now asleep at his feet. This creature would wake up tomorrow and be happy, unburdened by the intricate calculations of office politics or cable management dramas or the endless ladder-climbing.

"What if I said I'd rather drown?" Marcus asked.

Victoria's smile was genuine this time. "Then I'd say you finally grew a spine."