“Yes.” Elliot nodded. “I already know that you taunted him. You had a chance to apologize or do just about anything to try defusing the situation with him, and you chose to make matters infinitely worse. You poured gasoline on the fire. It’s like the way you acted with Karl when we were all hooked into the decagons. You deliberately goaded him. There’s no reason for it. It’s stupid and it’s arrogant and it’s needless, but you keep doing it.”

Tom gave an exasperated growl. “So I should’ve apologized to Hank Bloombury, is that it? Maybe kissed his shoes, while I was at it?”

“When he’s in a position to murder your career? Yes. Yes, you should have. For a start.”

Tom clenched his teeth. “I will never apologize to him. Not to him, not to the Beringer Club people, not to any of them. They all deserved what they got. I won’t give them the satisfaction of even acting like I’m sorry when I’m not.” He remembered Dalton, smugly telling him he could beg for forgiveness on his knees, if he wanted. Bitterness flooded him. “They’d love that.”

Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Come on, man,” Tom erupted, “how does this sucking-up fest not drive you nuts? You didn’t come from these people. You didn’t scam your way to the top or get born to rich parents and pat yourself on the back for ‘earning’ it. You had a skill, you had a talent, you worked hard and got here for an actual reason. You legitimately achieved everything you have. So how can you stomach treating these people like they’re better than us?”

Elliot threw up his hands. “Because I recognize that this is the way the world works! You may not like these executives, but the fact is, people with honor and integrity, who don’t cheat, lose their wealth and their positions to people who do. That’s why the worst of us become the world’s decision makers. Nothing I can do or say will change that basic fact of life. They shape reality and the rest of us just live in it. So I accept it, and I try to work around it.”

“It’s not right!” For a moment, Tom struggled for the words to capture the burning feeling in his chest, and they came pouring out. “It’s not that these people are thieves. That’s not what bugs me. It’s the fact that they think we should respect them, too. That’s what burns me. This place used to be everyone’s, they stole it for themselves, and they got away with doing it, but they don’t get my goodwill, too. They can’t pay me enough money to pretend I admire them.”