“Have dinner with me, Alannah,” he says before looking around us. “Somewhere more private than this.”
“That would be a mistake, Parker, and you know it. We didn’t really end on good terms.” And that would be putting it mildly. How long did it take me to pick up the pieces after he said what we had was over?
“Have dinner with me anyway.” He pulls out a card and a pen from his breast pocket, writes something down on the back of it, and slides it across the table toward me. “That’s my personal cell phone number.”
His beeper buzzes then and he takes the last bite of his bacon. “I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. I hate to leave you but–”
“I know the drill, so no need to apologize,” I say as he gets up from the table. “I’ll be fine.”
He glances at his card, still on the table. “Think about dinner and call me. In fact, just call me. We need to talk.”
I almost tell him we really have nothing left to talk about but by the time I find the words, Parker has left the table. He’s also managed to undo me… again.