Isaac turned the small lunchbox over in his hands like it was an unsolved equation. The pink lid had a faint doodle of a smiling rice ball in the corner, childish, uneven, probably Mina's doing. Somehow, that made it worse. He'd eaten everything. Even the rice she'd worried over. Now he had no idea what to do with the aftermath.
He'd asked Emily, thinking she'd know the proper way to handle it, perhaps there was an etiquette to this sort of thing.
And she'd stared at him like he'd just declared bankruptcy.
"You're supposed to clean it first, Mr. Henley, CEO," she'd said, exasperated. "And put something in it when you return it. Never empty."
"Put… something? What?" Isaac repeated, unsure if this was a business transaction or a riddle.
"Anything! Snacks, dessert, even tea! Do you have no social skills at all?"
He had, in fact, several, just not ones that applied to this situation. Negotiating mergers, yes. Managing human warmth, no.
That night, he took the lunchbox home.
