The Pool at the Pyramid's Base

Elena stood at the edge of the infinity pool, its surface perfectly still except for the occasional ripple from the evening breeze. Above her, the Great Pyramid rose against a bruise-purple sky, its ancient stones glowing with the last light of day. The irony wasn't lost on her—she'd clawed her way to the top of her own corporate pyramid only to find herself questioning what she'd actually built.

Her phone buzzed. The betting pool back at headquarters. How long until she quit? Her colleagues had given her six months. She'd given herself three.

She ordered another gin and tonic, remembering the interview with the Sphinx of CEO turnover—Marcus Vance, the man who'd hired six executive assistants in two years. He'd interviewed her while eating a spinach salad, flecks of green stuck to his front teeth. She should have taken it as an omen. Instead, she'd taken the job.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Elena turned. A woman she'd seen around the resort—dark hair, sharp eyes that seemed to know too much.

"The Sphinx?" Elena asked. "Yeah."

"He called me. Said you were the only one who ever noticed the spinach and didn't say anything."

The waiter set down her drink. Elena stared at it, then at the pyramid silhouetting against the stars.

"I didn't want to embarrass him," she said finally.

"That's why you're still there," the woman said. "You think kindness will save you. It won't. He'll still chew you up and spit you out."

Elena dipped her fingers in the pool. The water was impossibly cold.

"I know," she said. "But tomorrow, I'm going to walk into his office with my own spinach salad. And this time, I'll be the one asking the riddles."

The woman laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Now that," she said, "is how you survive the pyramid."