We Swim Together in Glass

The restaurant's centerpiece aquarium bathed our corner table in undulating blue light. I watched a single goldfish—orange as a traffic warning—swim endless laps against the glass, its mouth opening and closing in silent protest.

"You've been quiet tonight," Julian said, swirling his whiskey. He'd been my friend since we were junior analysts five years ago. We'd survived three mergers, two recessions, and one disastrous holiday party together.

"Just thinking about the Reynolds deal," I said, though that wasn't true. I'd discovered the spyware on my laptop that morning—sophisticated keystroke logging, the kind that costs fifty grand on the dark web. Only someone with access to my office could have installed it. Only someone I trusted enough to leave my computer unlocked around.

The water in the aquarium bubbled. The goldfish turned, its scales catching the light like something precious.

"I heard they're promoting Peterson to VP," Julian said casually. Too casually.

"Funny. Peterson told me yesterday his position's being eliminated."

A flash of something in Julian's eyes—panic, quickly masked. Then his phone buzzed. He checked it, a tiny smile touching his lips.

My phone buzzed too. An email from HR: MY POSITION WAS BEING ELIMINATED. Effective immediately.

"Julian," I said, and my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. "You tipped them off about my client list. You're taking my accounts."

He didn't deny it. He just watched me, his expression almost tender, like I was a slow child finally understanding a simple concept. "Corporate's restructuring, Elena. We all have to protect ourselves."

"We're not friends. We never were."

"I *liked* you," he said. "That's why I gave you a heads up about the HR email. I could have let you find out Monday."

He finished his drink and signaled for the check. The goldfish continued its endless orbit, trapped in its illuminated prison, beautiful and doomed.

I stood up, leaving my glass full. "Enjoy the accounts, Julian. I hope they were worth it."

Outside, rain was falling. I walked toward my car, already reaching for my phone to call the one person who could help me burn it all down—the actual spy who'd been trying to recruit me for eighteen months.

Julian thought he'd won. He had no idea the game he was really playing.