Back in the office, Drogo sat behind his desk with papers neatly stacked and his pen occasionally scratching across margins as he made notes.
His mind, always alert, barely registered the quiet shuffle of footsteps until a shadow fell across the edge of his workspace.
He looked up. Karen stood there, holding the now-empty plate. Her movements were casual, but her gaze stayed on him.
"I see you enjoyed the food," he said without inflection, his crystalline blue eyes betraying nothing.
Karen arched an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward as she set the plate down. "Above average," she replied, letting the words roll off her tongue almost lazily. "But it seemed safe for consumption, so I'll give you that."
Drogo barely reacted, his attention drifting back to the papers as Karen casually picked up the plate and placed it aside, her fingers brushing the table lightly, almost mockingly deliberate.
"Anyway," he said, his voice even, "we will be closing today at two o'clock."
