Augustus considered my question for several seconds.
"It's a professional invitation," he said. "We're attending the same reception. Arriving together would be convenient."
Relief and disappointment arrived simultaneously, which seemed unnecessarily efficient.
"Convenient," I repeated.
"Yes."
"Do you routinely tell assistants you enjoy their company?"
"I don't routinely invite them to receptions."
Not quite a denial.
"So I'm a special professional exception?"
"You asked for boundaries this morning."
"I did."
"I'm respecting them."
"How considerate."
"One of my better qualities."
The teasing felt familiar. The careful distance beneath it didn't.
He wasn't pretending the weekend hadn't happened. He simply refused to turn an invitation from my employer into something I might feel obligated to accept.
"I'll think about it," I said.
"Take your time. Either way, your plans are yours."
