In the car.
Looking at the road leading out of town, Dean asked in confusion, "Captain, this road, doesn't it look like it's heading towards Lincoln Farm?"
"That's exactly where we're going." Monet's fingers tapped rapidly on the steering wheel. "Dean, do you want a promotion?"
Dean glanced at Monet's fingers from the corner of his eye.
According to the books Anthony had given him, this sort of behavior often indicated psychological stress, an excessive nervousness that manifested subconsciously. For an old hand like Monet, this was extremely rare.
Dean pretended not to notice Monet's unusual behavior and nodded. "Everyone wants a promotion, but I've just completed my probation period. Even if I want a promotion, I'd have to wait at least a year or two, right?"
Within the system, nobody got ahead without connections. If a newbie broke convention and climbed the ranks quickly, it would upset those who had languished over the years and might even provoke criticism.
