After he pulled away, Kenji wrapped both arms around Qylar and held tight. “I can’t believe we’re about to have Thanksgiving dinner—in space.”
“I hope it’s okay that it’s just me you’re eating with and not a massive table full of friends and family.”
Kenji’s smile faded. “I usually spend it alone—or working a shift at the bar. This will be infinitely better.”
Qylar led Kenji out of the pilot’s deck and towards the galley. “Well, no more shifts at the bar for you.”
“I still can’t believe Howie fired me. Via text, of all things.” Kenji sighed. He’d gotten the text as they’d been loading the ship the previous evening. “Actually, Icanbelieve it. He’s a dick.”
“You had every right to ask for time off to take care of a medical issue.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I could tell him what was wrong, and I couldn’t provide a doctor’s note, either. Unless he’d take one from a Nefyrian doctor and something tells me that’s going to be a no.”
“Buffet style or shall we set the table?” Qylar asked as they entered the galley.
“Buffet,” Kenji said while following him to the sink to wash their hands. “That table isn’t very big, and Cryss really went to town on these sides. There’s enough food for a dozen people.”
“No, there’s enough food for a Qylar and a Kenji and maybe leftovers for the return trip if we can get back soon.”
“We need to get back soon. I’ll need to find another job as soon as possible.”
“No you won’t,” Qylar said. He handed the carving knife to Kenji. “Wanna carve while I get the sides out?”
Kenji took the knife. “Iwillneed a new job. I have bills to pay.”
“You can’t work on Earth,” Qylar said as he pressed the control panel on the thermorade to check the temperatures of the side dishes to ensure they were done.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re Nefyrian. You’re not allowed to work on Earth, per the no interference guidelines. Unless it’s for an approved scientific study.”
“I’m onlypartNefyrian and grew up on Earth. I’ve worked since I was fourteen,” Kenji said, roughly slicing into the turkey with an edge of anger.
“You can try to find another job, but it’s only a matter of time before you’re forced to quit,” Qylar said, pulling two of the side dishes out. “Just ask Alex. We assumed he could get away with continuing his career because he was part human and raised onEarth, too—and he did for a while—but then the Embassy caught up with him and demanded he quit.”
“How am I supposed to pay my bills?”
“They’ll be handled,” Qylar said as he got the last dish out of the oven.
“By whom?”
“They’ll be handled,”Qylar repeated, handing Kenji an empty plate.
Kenji lowered the carving knife and took the plate. “You didn’t think to tell me this before now?”
Qylar scooped up a massive serving of green beans onto his plate. “It just occurred to me.”
Kenji gave him a pointed look.
“Welcome to a life of leisure, my love,” Qylar said, lowering his head to kiss the top of Kenji’s head.
“Wait? How would they know I’m part Nefyrian unless someone told them?”
Qylar sighed. “You can’t enter Nefyrian airspace without the entire ship being scanned—which will tell them you have our DNA. Then, when I register at the dock and list the occupants of this ship, they will have your name.”
Kenji sighed. “You should’ve told me sooner.”
“Would it really have changed your mind about coming?”
