Zero-Sum Game

"I didn't mean--" Annette started, taken aback.

"No," Esmé sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I know the solution is to get another job. It's just that I can't find anything as high-paying with only my high school diploma. So until a miracle strikes, I'm stuck at Arcot. Is it such a crime that I allow myself to float a few inches for two-and-a-half more weeks until I'm forced to blow up the one nice thing that's happened to me?"

Annette warmly rubbed her friend's shoulders, and the two women walked out of the ladies' room and back to their desks. They sat quietly together for a moment until they heard Freeland holler from his office.

***********

"See that one up there?" Jace pointed toward the stars as they sat on the rooftop of Esmé's apartment building. "That one's called the knuckle-dragger." Esmé snorted, convinced some of the red wine she'd held in her mouth had hit her in the sinuses.

"You're pointing at a jetliner."

"I'm actually pointing at nothing because the light pollution that comes out of this city makes it impossible to actually see a real star at night," Jace grinned, lifting his own glass to his lips. "I wanted to ask you something. Are you still in touch with your family?"

"I could change my name and move to Nunavut, and my family would still find a way to find me," Esmé said, reaching for the wine bottle before Jace stopped her.

"No, I mean, for real. Do you still talk with your parents?"

"Jace." Esmé simply let his name hang in the air for a moment. "We're having a good time. Why are you ruining it with this line of questioning?"

"Ruining it," Jace leaned in. "That's an interesting choice of words. I still call my mom and dad a couple of times a week."

"And you tell them things?" Esmé furrowed her brow. He nodded. "They know about the lawsuit?"

"Well, how could they not? I've been in the papers for weeks now. My mom's putting together a scrapbook," he beamed proudly. "I take it your relationship with your parents isn't like that?"

"I'd settle for a thank-you," Esmé swirled the remainder of her wine in her glass. She knew she had to nurse it since Jace wasn't letting her have more for some reason. "I'm content with not hearing from them. Because hearing from them means they need more money than I've sent them that month."

Jace winced at the bitterness in Esmé's voice, which rivaled the aftertaste of the wine.

"They called it being responsible," she went on. "All the times I had to cancel my plans to look after my siblings; all the times they wanted to go out together and forced me to stay home; all the times I studied while working the till at their corner store because it was the only place that was even remotely quiet.

"They called it being responsible, but it was really parentification. No one else had to be 'responsible' except for me. When I started working, I was hoping I could throw some money at them to keep them happy while living far away. Been sending them hundreds of dollars per month for maybe eight years now?"

"That's a lot you could have saved for yourself, Esmé," Jace said in surprise. "Not that you shouldn't help them; that's not what I'm saying."

"Well, that's what they said, although not in so many words," Esmé retorted, draining the last of what was in her glass. "It was more like 'family first,' although that's also another rule that only applies to me. My brothers don't send money home, as far as I know, and they were treated like kings our entire childhood. I... I love them, but..."

"You also can't help but resent them a bit?"

Esmé looked up at Jace in astonishment, wondering how he'd understood such a specific feeling as an only child.

"It's only natural," he explained, placing her glass on a concrete block that sat nearby, and grasping her hands in his. "They benefitted from an unfair system. Maybe they weren't trying to benefit, but they didn't refuse the A-list treatment."

"How did you know?"

"As a Latina, haven't you ever thought that about white people? I sure have as a Black man. Sure, you like some of them and they like you, and they aren't personally responsible for the way things work. But they still benefit from unfair rules in our society whether they want to or not."

Esmé briefly considered the way Freeland and other executives at work treated Annette, unconsciously comparing it to how they treated her. She was happy for her friend for getting a plum position, but the fact that Esmé was worked harder for a third less pay put some distance between them.

"But back to your family," Jace continued. "I'm guessing none of them acknowledge what you did, or what you're still doing for them?" They were 15 storeys up, but the traffic of Montreal's nightlife still registered as a ragged hum from the street.

"My sister does," Esmé said. The warmth of Jace's hands enveloping hers even eclipsed the warmth of that humid summer night. On a whim, she lifted herself out of her garden chair and into Jace's lap. Thankfully, he didn't question her but instead wrapped his arms around her while she talked.

"I guess it's no coincidence she's the only one in my family I still text. She told me the second she starts earning--maybe during clinicals but definitely when she starts her residency--she'll begin paying me back."

"Do you think she will?"

"She already has," Esmé smiled. "She worked as a teaching assistant for a few semesters and sent me money. My parents were not pleased."

"Esmé, I know this isn't my business," Jace carefully considered his words, "but what would happen if you stopped sending your parents money altogether? Would your sister no longer be able to go to school?"

"She'd go into debt a bit, but that's expected with med students. She'd pay it off within a couple of years of residency."

"Would your parents lose their home? Or their store?" Jace asked. Esmé shook her head no, but the discomfort was written all over her face. "What if your income dropped a bit and you couldn't spare anything to give them from your paycheque?"

"Jace, I don't know what you're getting at, but filial duty and Catholic guilt are drilled into Hispanic daughters before our baby teeth grow in. I can't even think about any of this because it's not a real thing. What I can tell you is I would gladly take a pay cut, within reason, for the privilege of no longer having to work at Arcot and/or having a team of assholes for bosses."

She abruptly stood up but wavered on her feet, causing Jace to jump up and steady her.

"Let's get you downstairs and hydrate you a bit, yeah?" he said, slinging an arm around her waist and carefully gripping the wine bottle and glasses with his other hand. Minutes later, Esmé unsuccessfully tried to read him as she stood in her kitchen with a glass of water.

He's too noble, she assessed him while he flipped through a news magazine Annette had left on the coffee table. And I'm probably too drunk for his liking. Again. Of course, after hearing all the shit I dumped on him just now, he shouldn't be surprised that I self-medicate with alco--

"Is Annette home?" Jace unexpectedly asked.

"Uh, no. She's spending the weekend with her boyfriend in Québec City. Do you... I can't drive you home, but can I call a cab for you?"

"Oh," Jace replied. "You don't want me to stay?"

"I... I was just going to watch TV and fall asleep on the couch," Esmé answered, more than a bit confused. In response, Jace opened up the blanket that sat neatly folded in the armchair beside him and tucked himself in, leaving space for Esmé to join. The Weather Network ran for about 10 minutes until she finally spoke up.

"What are we doing, Jace?" He turned to look at her as she sat nestled under his arm, her face a question mark. "Remember that job I told you I hate but need? I'm risking it for whatever is going on here. And as long as that's the case, I'd like to know exactly what is going on."

Jace tried to come up with a rational, well-thought-out answer, which is what he knew she deserved. But instead, he leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face partway through. After a second and then third kiss, Esmé gently pressed her fingers against his chest.

"I thought you're not into drunk girls," her breath warmed his cheek.

"I'm not," he confirmed. "But I can't help it if I was just sitting here learning about cumulus clouds on TV, when you suddenly came on to me."

"That's really the story you're going with, huh?" Esmé chuckled against his neck. Sitting cozy under the blanket with Jace in the darkness of her living room was the safety she didn't know she'd needed.

"Esmé." She shivered upon hearing it, and resisted the desire to ask him to say her name again. "I was an arrogant prick for assuming you were too drunk to make your own decisions the night we met," Jace said.

"You're probably a lot less drunk than that right now," he paused while taking in her wide smile as he brushed her hair away from her face, "but whatever happens tonight is up to you. Even if you just want me as an escape. That said, I fully expect you to choose your job and send me home."

"Then what? I'll see you in court?"

Jace took in a deep breath and pursed his lips while slowly letting it out.

"Yes, but it won't be nearly as bad as you think. I'll concede and pay Arcot back on their terms."

"The fuck you will." Esmé sat straight up and the blanket fell off her arms. For once, her temper flared on behalf of Jace instead of against him. "I'm going to leave the company anyway."

"But not before the court date, and probably not before they fire you."

"You're not going to pay them back 15 grand, Jace!"

"Will you listen to reason, Esmé?" It was difficult for him to keep calm when her voice amped up with every subsequent sentence.

"It's my job; not yours," she shot back. "And last I checked, your nose is supposed to be on your face and not in my business."

"Okay, I'm done." Jace pushed the blanket off his lap and stood up to leave. "I'm trying to look out for you because I care about you and you keep pulling this lone wolf shit."

"You're looking out for me? Because what I just heard is that I'd be $15,000 in your debt."

"It's all nickels and dimes to you, isn't it?" Jace asked as he bounded across the room to retrieve his jacket.

"Yes, actually, it is. How could you listen to my life story just now and not understand why I think this way? I don't want to owe anyone--especially not you." Esmé didn't want him to go, but the best she could do was follow him to the door. Jace scoffed as he fumbled with his coat buttons.

"Especially not me," he muttered bitterly. "And why especially not me, Esmé?"

"Because I'm falling for you, you idiot!"

Jace stood frozen in place, staring blankly at her. Finally, he ripped off his jacket.

"Dammit," he growled under his breath seconds before he crushed her mouth with his.

Esmé stumbled backward but Jace wouldn't let her fall, holding her lower back and devouring her lips until they almost hurt by the time they'd staggered toward her bedroom together. This wasn't going to stop at just making out, and she didn't want it to.

Slamming her door shut, Esmé tilted her face back up to Jace's while sliding her hands up his t-shirt and against his meaty shoulders. When his shirt was on the ground, she pushed him back onto the bed and dragged her mouth against his stomach.

Jace moaned without meaning to, as Esmé's lips forced him to betray his typically calm and rational demeanour. She was going faster than his mind could keep up with, frantically loosening his belt and tugging down his pants. His head fell back on her mattress when he felt her fingers stroke the corners of his groin.

"Esmé, wait," he said, with every last ounce of strength he could scrounge up. "You've been drinking more than I have and--"

"Jace, I appreciate how caring you are," she interrupted, wrapping both her fists around his fully erect cock, "and what a gentleman you are." She tightening her grip, reveling in how it made him clench his jaw. "But rest assured I know what I'm doing when I ask you to shut up and fuck me."

Seeing as how he was naked at this point and she was still fully clothed, Jace needed to even the field. He sat up and grabbed Esmé by her shoulders, dragging her down to the sheets with him. He gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head, then swiftly reached around her back and unhooked her lacy, red bra.

Esmé clawed at his shoulders over the next few minutes of him sucking and rubbing her almond-brown nipples, unable to move her legs because of his weight on top of her.

"Jace, please, I'm drenched," she whispered. Her breasts ached but in a way she'd urgently needed since the night they'd met. Her damp panties were the only fabric between them now. She'd wanted him in her mouth but she figured it was only Friday night and they'd have plenty of time to go slower over the weekend. She wasn't letting him leave until Monday morning.

When she wriggled her legs, he let up just long enough for her to slip off her black hipsters.

"We can take it easy," he softly told her. "I don't want you to feel--"

In response, Esmé brought up her right leg and rested it on his left shoulder, staring him dead in the eye all the while.

"Okay, then," he grinned. He reached for his pants to retrieve a condom from his wallet, but was back in position within a second. Jace kissed her, tenderly brushing his tongue up against hers and exhaling against her neck while pushing deep inside. He desperately tried to wrest control of his head upon hearing her light but throaty moans.

"Mmmmm," she breathed as her right calf slid a touch higher upon his shoulder. Esmé's gasps grew more eager as Jace's hips pumped faster, and she let out a thrilled little cry when he grabbed her left leg and put it up on his other shoulder. Her eyes squeezed shut in anguished pleasure, and her mouth dropped open in a soundless scream.

He let up for a moment. Esmé's face contorted in elated agony while she whimpered and lightly scratched Jace's biceps. She was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen.

Just when he thought he was in control since he had driven her over the edge first, Jace felt Esmé's fingers against his balls. He gritted his teeth upon realising she'd reached underneath the both of them and was stroking him at the same time he was buried in her warmth.

"You're gonna kill me," he grunted as he resumed pistoning in and out of her.

"Funny, I thought that's what you're trying to do to me," Esmé winced as she smiled. There was a touch of pain since he was thicker than she was used to, but it was exquisite. Just enough to make her writhe. Definitely not enough for her to ask him to stop.

He was past the point of no return by now so all Esmé could do was grab his butt as hard as she could with both hands, eliciting a growl from him as he pumped even faster. With one last push, he tangled his fingers in her hair and groaned against her temple, frozen with the woman he had to admit he was probably in love with.

Esmé gasped for air as she sprawled her limbs wide across her mattress and Jace fell forward beside her.

"If corporate didn't like it that I almost kissed you," she panted, "they're sure as hell gonna take issue with this."

Jace laughed in spite of himself, wrapping his arms around her. After relishing the feeling of her gasping against his chest for a moment, he tapped her on the butt and pointed toward the bathroom. By the time they were both back in bed, however, his mind had returned to worrying about how they would get around their dilemma.

"You're sure you're going to get another job?" he weakly asked her. It supremely pissed him off that he was able to figure out solutions to any number of tech puzzles at work on a weekly basis, but he couldn't find a way to win against Arcot without Esmé having to lose.

"Maybe not one that will pay the same amount as I'm making now," Esmé replied, sliding her leg across both of Jace's, "but like we were talking about before, we're going to have to sacrifice something here. I just don't want it to be you."

"I don't want it to be you," Jace said, grabbing the back of her knee and pulling her close enough to nestle his face in her dark, glossy hair.

"If only it could be Arcot and we could get off scot-free," Esmé murmured. Then it hit her. "Jace." She bolted upright in bed, letting the covers fall off her breasts.

"Do not tempt me like that, gorgeous," he grinned in response. But her brain was suddenly flooded with a plan.

"We've been going about this all wrong!" Esmé exclaimed. "God, we've been thinking like peasants all this time, which we are compared to Arcot's board. Where's my laptop?" She threw on Jace's t-shirt and scampered toward the living room as he tried to decipher what she'd just said.

"You're going to counter-sue," she declared upon returning a few seconds later with her computer.

"Maisie thought about that," Jace said, disappointed. "The risk was too big, though. If I lost, I'd have to pay Arcot even more, plus their legal fees. I'd be in debt to them until I'm 50."

"Think back, sweetie," Esmé climbed onto the bed and solemnly peered into his eyes. "When you stopped running your program to automatically play the game, did you stop on your own or were you locked out?" Jace looked into her lush brown eyes and thought back to when he last tried to log in.

"I was locked out," he finally answered. Esmé smiled and nodded.

"That's not only illegal, I believe it goes against Arcot's own contest rules. Oh... but the company probably changed the rules on the site to cover their asses after this whole thing blew up." As her face fell, a memory from over a month ago hit Jace like lightning.

"The night I programmed my scripts," he told her, "I took screenshots of all the contest rules as they stood at the time. They're on my work computer." Esmé's eyes widened with the exhilaration that only a great idea could give her.

She opened up her laptop and plugged it in, knowing she'd have it open for a while. "Rattle off all the other things you said to me in court that first day. The holes in Arcot's case." Of all the things Jace had talked about after sex, this was definitely the strangest.

"Great," Esmé said as she finished typing, folding her legs under her. "Did you say somewhere that your mom is keeping a scrapbook of newspaper clippings?" He nodded as the picture she was drawing began to form more clearly in his mind. "Do you know if any article mentioned how you gave away most of your prizes?" He shook his head no, but the corner of his lips curved upward.

"I'm sure she could call an eager reporter at Voix du Nord Montréal and give them that juicy piece of information," he smiled.

"All these things don't amount to much separately, but put together we'll have a winnable case. The onus will be on Arcot to prove they deserve your prizes back." Jace's silence prompted Esmé to glance up and finally notice his arched eyebrow.

"Esmé--"

"Stop," she raised a finger, determined to lead the charge on this. "We've been thinking like we're poor all this time, because this is how working-class people think. Whether it's a corner store, a factory, or an office, you were right about what you said to me the first time we met--"

"You mean fought."

"Right, the first time we fought on the courthouse steps. Ninety-eight percent of us are much closer to losing everything than being billionaires, and this is why we bow down and accept the shitty options these rich fucks give us." She pushed her laptop back and turned right around toward him.

"We were thinking this was a zero-sum game between us all this time. It's actually a zero-sum between us and Arcot. If my boss were in your position, he'd counter-sue even before reading the plaintiff's claim against him."