What the Cards Conceal

The retirement party was in full swing when Elena found herself on the balcony with Marcus, the man who'd made her last three years a living hell. His tailored suit fit perfectly, unlike their working relationship.

"You never told me you read palms," he said, extending his hand. The patio lights strung above them cast shadows across his skin.

"I don't." She didn't move away.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"The scars." She traced a line across his palm. "This one says you almost left your wife last year. This one says you didn't."

Marcus laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You always were too perceptive for your own good. That's why you're still a senior associate and I made partner."

"That's not why."

"No?" He stepped closer. The scent of expensive cologne, something woodsy and predatory. "Then tell me, Elena. What does my future hold?"

She should have walked away. Instead, she heard herself say, "You're going to lose everything you sacrificed to get."

His smile faltered. A fox darted through the garden below — a rust-colored ghost between the palms, moonlight catching its eyes before it vanished into the shadows.

"You know," Marcus said quietly, "I recommended you for partner. The committee voted you down."

"Why tell me now?"

"Because I'm tired of pretending we're enemies." His hand brushed hers. "We could have been friends. We still could be."

Elena looked at this man who'd undercut her, stolen credit, made her question her own worth. He was lonely, she realized. It didn't make him less dangerous. It just made him human.

She adjusted the hat she'd bought in Mexico — a wide-brimmed thing she'd worn as armor all evening. "Friends don't sabotage each other's careers."

"I didn't—"

"You did. And you think telling me this makes it better, but it doesn't. It just means you knew what you were doing."

The fox appeared again on the lower balcony, watching them with intelligent eyes.

"What are you going to do?" Marcus asked.

"Enjoy my drink." She turned toward the party, the glass of wine warm in her hand. "And tomorrow, I'll start looking for a firm where I don't have to be the smartest person in the room to survive."

Behind her, Marcus laughed — genuinely this time. "You're going to leave? Finally?"

"Yes."

"Good." He placed something in her palm before walking away. "I was hoping you'd say that."

She opened her hand. A business card for a competitor. His handwriting: "Tell them I drove you away. They'll love that."

The fox below stretched and settled into the grass. Elena took a sip of wine and watched the party through the glass doors, thinking about the strange things people called friendship when they were too cowardly to use the word love.