“Okaycoolthanksbye—” Parker says, and then he darts into the hallway, somehow managing to juggle the plate and his table. He makes it to the door in record speed, not waiting for Harp to let him out.
“See you next week,” Harp calls from the living room. “D’you wanna call me about lunch, I guess?”
“Yeah, thanks Harp,” Parker says quickly, nodding but not smiling before he closes the door.
What the fuck. What the fuck?
Did someone just ask me to lunch?
Did Parker just ask me to lunch?
It must just be guilt over having eaten with him. But that means at least they’ll be even.