The Layoff Pool

The water in the hotel pool was impossibly blue, the kind of artificial color that made everything feel slightly poisonous. Maya stood at the edge, her toes curling against the cool concrete, holding a martini she'd barely touched. Below, the office party raged—drunken executives, terrible karaoke, the desperate energy of people pretending everything was fine.

"Five hundred on Marcus," someone said behind her. "His numbers have been flat for three quarters."

Maya didn't turn. She knew the voice. It was Kaitlyn from Accounting, the one everyone called 'the fox' behind her back—not because she was particularly clever, but because she'd slept her way into a promotion and seemed to survive every restructuring with something worse than her dignity intact.

"You're running the pool again?" Maya asked.

"It's not gambling," Kaitlyn said, sliding up beside her. "It's strategic planning. You put money on who gets laid off Monday, you win. Simple."

Maya finally looked at her. Kaitlyn's makeup was perfect, her smile predatory. "That's grotesque."

"It's capitalism, sweetheart. Put some skin in the game or stay silent."

The water lapped against the pool's edge. Maya thought about running—just grabbing her car keys, driving west until the ocean stopped her. Instead, she said, "Put me down for myself."

Kaitlyn laughed, then realized she wasn't joking. "You'll win, sure, but you'll still be unemployed. Where's the victory in that?"

"The victory," Maya said, finishing her drink in one swallow, "is finally being free." She kicked off her heels and stepped into the water, fully dressed. "Sometimes you have to drown to remember you can swim."