“Morning,” Alastair said when Mars and Dylan came into the living room, on their way to the kitchen, Thursday morning. “You’re taking this R&R to heart.”
Dylan glanced at the clock and winced. It was ten-thirty. “Sorry.”
“No need to be,” Alastair said kindly. “Marina made waffles so you can nuke them. When you finish eating, I’ll be in my office.”
“Meaning you want to talk to us,” Mars replied with a grin.
“Yes.”
“About?”
“I’ll tell you after you’ve eaten.”
“That doesn’t bode well,” Dylan said when he and Mars were in the kitchen. “He doesn’t want us to deal with…whatever on an empty stomach.”
“More like he knows people think better when they aren’t hungry,” Mars replied, taking the plate of waffles from the fridge.
Fifteen minutes later they were entering Alastair’s office, carry
