The Tray

Mina (lowering her voice): “I’m working.”

Julian: “I know.”

Mina: “Then you also know what position you’re putting me in.”

Julian glanced around, finally noticing the audience. Then—without pushing closer, without flashing status—he reached out calmly.

Julian: “Give me the tray.”

Mina’s grip tightened.

Mina: “Sir, I can’t—if something spills—”

Julian: “Then it spills on me. I’m asking, not ordering.”

Mina stared at him.

Mina: “Why?”