“What am I supposed to do for food?” “We can order in. I can have one of my team go pick it up. I’d rather we didn’t have a trail of different delivery people turning up to your place every day. Or we can have groceries delivered.” “I don’t cook.” He shook his head. “I mean, I used to. But I hate it, and I was never good at it. Just ask the guys.” “I’ve seen your grilling skills. Remember that week we spent in Vermont at Roscoe’s uncle’s farm?” His mouth fell open. “Hey. I grilled that meat just fine.” “You charcoaled it so much I considered sending it for carbon dating.”
