“You do not like making things easy, do you?” No, no she doesn’t Mitchell. He’s back to that usual back-and-forth banter by this point, any residual despondence being lost along the way.

“Although...” He looks around the inside of the elevator for any signs of surveillance --not that he would show up, but things would still look incredibly odd-- before shaking his head to distract himself from the thought. No, they’ll make it to the front door. Although he’s becoming less and less sure about whether dinner will actually occur or not.