“Not too bad,” Mars said after tasting it. “But it could use—” Dylan handed him the bottle of hot sauce. “Yeah, that.”
“What did Alastair say,” Dylan asked after Mars had made inroads into his meal.
“We’re staying here, at least until he decides if C21’s taking on a potential job.”
“One he wants you to do?” When Mars nodded, Dylan said, “And me?”
“I told him I wanted you along. He’s not sure it’s a good idea.”
“I can handle…whatever,” Dylan protested.
Vicki put her hand over Dylan’s. “I suspect it has nothing to do with your competency, and everything to do with the two of you.”
“Why?”
“Men,” Vicki muttered. “Dense and then some. Alastair’s afraid if something happened to you, Mars would lose his focus.”
“I…oh…”
“Yeah. And it works in reverse.”
“But we don’t…”
“Tell that to someone dumb enough to believe it,” Vicki said. “The two of you might not be sleeping together—yet. But you will be.”