Chapter 2

"The year-end bonus cycle is a zero-sum game. The moment we pair-bind, we're allies — and also the two people who know each other's work best. Potentially the most dangerous enemies."

"I'd rather trust myself than the uncertainty of depending on someone else."

I didn't leave him any room to counter.

Jared let out a tight, outraged laugh. His face said this was absurd.

"You think you can carry the top-bonus seat alone? You've already forgotten how you lost the Riverside deal? Without me smoothing the way, you don't move an inch."

"However much raw effort you put in, it'll convert far less than taking the shortcut with me."

"My path, I walk myself," I said, voice steady. "You've got time to stand here lecturing me. Go find a more willing partner."

My phone alarm went off—the end of lunch hour. Jared looked like he wanted to keep at it.

I didn't have the patience for it. When my department head walked onto the floor, I raised my voice on purpose.

"I am never going to agree to pair-bi — "

Jared slammed a hand up, shushing me, and backed fast into his own office.

I let a little contempt tug at the corner of my mouth. This secret wasn't going to stay buried forever anyway.

Sure enough, a few days later, an open letter signed by the top earners across multiple industries made the news. The System, they reminded everyone, had appeared inside every working person's head. Most people's instinct, facing that kind of cheat-code, was to keep quiet about it.

But not everybody was pleased. Least of all the people at the top — the ones who were used to having others beg them for a piece of the pie. If the rank-and-file started teaming up, the first people destabilized would be them.

Same as last time, they forced the issue into the public eye and demanded that corporate put out rules.

The Summit internal Slack lit up.

"I am SO over these top performers. Are they trying to pull the ladder up behind them?"

"Exactly. Don't want to pair yourself — fine. Don't block me."

"Fair point, but they're not wrong either. It's not actually fair, is it?"

"You're reaching, dude. Everybody makes more money, what's the problem?"

"IDK, I'm pairing in secret. As long as my partner's solid, nobody's going to know."

"Would love to see HQ enforce this. What are they going to do, read our minds?"

Corporate, recognizing how messy this was going to be, issued a compliance policy fast.

Employees who chose to pair would be moved into a "paired evaluation pool." Employees who went solo would be in a "solo pool." Year-end bonuses and rankings would be calculated separately. Promotion slots in each region would be distributed proportionally based on pool headcount.

All pair-bindings had to be registered with HR by 11:59 p.m. on March 25.

After March 25, any employee could submit a report. If two or more employees were found to be pairing off-registry, all involved parties would be summarily terminated and added to the industry-wide blacklist.

Year-end deliverables and individual contribution metrics would be subject to strict audit. Any evidence of data-holding on a partner's behalf, or mismatches between contribution and credited outcomes, would mean summary termination and industry-wide blacklisting, same as above.

In my previous life, Jared had walked Stephanie and me straight to HR.

Even though mixing us into the solo pool would have been the winning play, the three of us had complementary-enough skills that everyone on our floor already assumed we'd team up. The risk of getting caught off-registry was too high for us to gamble.

This time, I said no to Jared.

But he was still operating like the three of us were already paired. He hadn't gotten me on board — he had, apparently, already aligned with Stephanie.

I was buried in the details of a deal memo that afternoon when someone set a cup down on the corner of my desk.

I looked up. Stephanie Alderton, smile on full beam.

"Chloe, you've been at it for hours. Figured you could use the caffeine."

I glanced sideways. Jared's eyes were moving, just a little too obviously, toward us.

Ah. So that's what we were doing now.