I know, Chia said softly. The hospitals called my office directly. They said our fleet drivers were the only things moving in the city. The PR department is currently losing its mind trying to figure out how to frame a logistics company as the heroes of a blizzard. Aardo chuckled, rubbing his tired eyes.
Tell them to put Greg on a billboard. He'd love it. They sat in silence for a long moment. The roar of the warehouse washing over them. It wasn't an awkward silence.
It was the shared heavy quiet of two people who had weathered a storm, both literally and figuratively. "How is Melissa? " Chia asked suddenly. Abalardo smiled. A genuine unguarded smile. "She's good.
She has new boots, pink fuzzy ones. She stomps around the apartment like a miniature warlord. " Chia smiled back, a soft, wistful expression crossing her sharp features. I'm glad. She looked down at her own expensive leather boots, then over at Abalardo's battered steeltoed work boots. You know, Abalardo, a few months ago, I thought this company was just a machine.
A machine that was breaking down, and I had no idea how to fix it. And now, now, Chia said, looking back up at him, her eyes bright and fiercely alive. I realized the machine is fine. It just needed a human heart to run it. She stood up, brushing a dusting of snow off her coat.
The imposing CEO armor was back in place, but it felt lighter now, less like a cage and more like a tool. Go home, Abalardo, Chia commanded, though her tone was warm. Take two days off. Sleep. Spend time with your warlord.
The eastern seabboard can survive without you for 48 hours. Abalardo stood up, his joints popping in protest. Yes, boss. Chia turned to walk away but stopped.
She looked back over her shoulder, the morning light catching the edge of her dark hair. And Avalardo. Yeah. If I ever find myself locked out in the rain again, she said, her voice dropping the corporate edge entirely, leaving only a profound, grounded sincerity.
I know whose couch I'm sleeping on. Abalardo watched her walk away, navigating the chaotic warehouse floor, not as an invader, but as an equal. He finished his terrible coffee, tossed the cup in a bin, and walked out to his car. The city was frozen, but for the first time in a very long time, Abalardo Webb finally felt warm.