What the Pool Knew

Margaret stood at the edge of the hotel pool, clutching her glass of cheap chardonnay like it might anchor her against the evening's gravitational pull. Behind her, the sales team was celebrating another quarter killed, their laughter ricocheting off the tiled walls in bursts she found almost physically painful. The pool water lay still and dark — an abyss waiting to swallow anyone foolish enough to dive in.

"You okay?"

She didn't turn. David's voice was soft, almost careful. The one person who'd checked on her since the email went out at 4:59 PM.

"Just admiring the view," she said, gesturing with her wine. "Corporate America at its finest."

David stepped up beside her. He was twenty-seven, brilliant, and about to learn the same lesson she had at his age: loyalty is a one-way street.

"They're not going to promote anyone from our team," he said, not a question. "You saw the reorg memo."

"I saw it." Margaret took a sip of wine. "I also saw the dog earlier."

"The dog?"

"The CEO's wife's golden retriever. Brought it to the holiday party last year. She talked about finding him at a shelter, how he'd been abused, how nervous he was around men. Then she laughed and said he'd learned to trust again."

She set her glass down on a table. "You know what they did with that dog?"

David shook his head.

"Gave him back. Too much work. Said they needed a dog that was housebroken, not a project. Got a Labradoodle from a breeder the next week."

The water in the pool shifted slightly, catching a reflection of something neither of them wanted to name.

"We're not getting promotions, are we?" David's voice cracked, just once.

"No." Margaret looked at him. "But we're also not going to let them turn us into Labradoodles."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we finish our drinks. We go back in there. We network. And on Monday, we start reaching out to other firms. Together."

"Together." David nodded slowly.

"Together." She picked up her glass. "You and me and whoever else wants off this plantation."

The pool water rippled again, something moving beneath its surface. Margaret didn't look down to see what.

Some things, she knew, were better left drowned.