The Last Padel Match

Elena pressed her palm against the cold glass of the CEO's office, watching them play on the private court below. Julianne in her white visor, laughing as she smashed the padel ball into the corner. David, reaching for it, his movements graceful despite the fifty-hour weeks he'd been putting in since the acquisition rumors began.

Elena's hat sat on the corner of her desk, a crushed felt thing she'd forgotten to replace after last night's rain. She'd slept in her office again—the second time this week—while her team's termination notices sat unsent in her draft folder. The cable from her laptop had pulled loose sometime during the night, and the screen had died at 3 AM, exactly when she'd finally decided she couldn't delay the meeting any longer.

Julianne caught Elena watching from above and waved, racket raised like a weapon or a peace offering, Elena couldn't tell anymore. They'd hired her together, five years ago, fresh out of business school with matching idealism and terrible haircuts. Now Julianne was orchestrating the merger that would gut Elena's department, and Elena was the one who had to tell her people tomorrow morning.

She turned from the window. Her palm left a fogged print on the glass, already evaporating. Tomorrow she would wear the hat she'd bought for her sister's wedding three years ago—the nice one, with the wide brim—and she would stand in front of the conference room and explain that their jobs had been eliminated for the sake of efficiency. She would mention the severance package, the outplacement services, the networking opportunities. She would not cry. She would not mention that Julianne had played padel with the executives every Wednesday while the department burned.

On the court below, Julianne scored the final point, throwing her head back. Elena picked up the fraying hat from her desk and placed it carefully on her head. It didn't fit anymore. Nothing did.