“Give me one reason why not,” I say. “And don’t say because you hate me, because that is also getting boring. It’s also not true or you wouldn’t be here having dinner with me.” He sets down his fork and narrows his eyes at me. “This is a means to an end. I’m not having dinner with you.” I point at his bowl. “Dinner.” And then at myself. “Me. Sorry, princess, but you’re very much having dinner with me.” “Yeah, well, newsflash, I had dinner with my father last week and there’s literally no one on Earth I hate more than him. I can eat food next to you and very much hate you at the same time.”
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