Christine had been a godsend earlier, texting everyone who’d come to the meeting at the pub and rallying them to be more hands-on in the run-up to the competition. Finally, Marcus could take a breath, knowing every aspect of the event was being shared out.
Not dropped.
Shared.
There was a difference, apparently.
He looked down at his fish supper and frowned. Considering how hungry he’d been when he’d ordered the large portion, he’d barely managed half of it.
Maybe his stomach had shrunk.
Or maybe his appetite had disappeared somewhere between Rowan walking out of the parlour and Marcus pretending he was fine.
A light tap on the doorframe made him jolt.
He looked up, and saw the last face he had expected to see at Ruff to Regal again that day.
Rowan stood in the doorway, one hand raised, holding what looked like a white paper napkin.
‘Truce?’
Marcus fought the urge to stand up and close the door in his face.
Mainly because Atlas stood at Rowan’s side, and also because, despite everything, Marcus desperately wanted to hear what Rowan had come to say.
He placed the chip fork down. ‘Come in.’
The smell of Rowan’s aftershave drifted in first, cutting through the fish and vinegar and making Marcus’s stomach do something far too dramatic for a man sitting beside a half-eaten cod.
Rowan entered slowly, letting Atlas choose his own pace.
After what had happened the last time he’d been here, Marcus expected hesitation. Stiffness. Refusal.
Instead, Atlas stepped across the threshold after only a few seconds.
Marcus’s chest lifted. He tried not to beam too obviously, but failed.
Rowan noticed. Of course he did.
For a moment, his guarded expression softened as he looked down at Atlas, then back at Marcus. ‘I think you were right.’
Marcus swallowed. ‘About what?’
‘It was a setback.’ Rowan’s gaze held his. ‘Not the end of his progress.’
Marcus nodded once, not trusting himself to answer immediately.
Atlas sniffed the air, then moved towards the waiting-area chairs. His nose dipped near Marcus’s abandoned fish and chips, and Marcus laughed despite himself.
‘Ah. So it might be the fish that’s made him brave.’
Rowan’s mouth twitched. ‘Possibly.’
The tiny flicker of humour eased something in Marcus, but only slightly.
Rowan looked at the floor, then back at him. ‘I left things badly.’ Marcus stayed quiet. ‘I shouldn’t have said what I did,’ Rowan continued. ‘Not here. Not in your workplace. Not in front of a customer.’ His throat moved. ‘And not after you were trying to help.’
Marcus stared at him, taken aback.
