Patiently, Lydia waits. She gets the feeling that he's done that on purpose to buy himself a little time and that's fair enough; she isn't going to judge him for it. When he finally does swallow and has a chance to speak, Lydia nods, her own smile returning his.

"Seven sounds perfect, give me your phone," she says. "I'll put my number in it." That way, if he feels so inclined to text her between now and then, well. He could. If he wanted.