The warehouse office felt smaller after dark. Elena cleared the production schedules from the corner table and set down two paper containers. Steam fogged the plastic lids. She handed him a fork. He took it without a word. The overhead light buzzed. Rain tapped against the window glass. Outside, the loading bay sat empty. Forklifts were parked. Pallets were wrapped in plastic. The night shift had clocked out hours ago. Only the two of them remained.
Alexander opened his container and poked at the rice. He set the fork down on the edge of the table. "We are not pulling up spreadsheets tonight," he said.
"I cleared the routing queue at six," Elena replied. "Dock four is locked. Customs stamped the morning batch. The buyers confirmed delivery windows. The floor runs on schedule until eight tomorrow."
"Good. Eat. The noodles are cooling."
She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. She set the fork on the table. "You have not called the board all week."
