This was a difficult statement to respond to, and it sent Ford's mind whirling trying to process it on multiple levels. Trying to nose into his business — it had seemed that way, though Ford would not have called it grating so much as mortifying. But if he said anything that acknowledged that, it would be as much as admitting that he had business worth nosing in on, and he didn't want to give off that impression. It was contrary to Ford's polite way of navigating conversations to come right out and say that he resented what was apparently a well-intentioned intervention anyway, even if it hadn't had the additional complication of everything that had been going on recently. And all of that was before he started thinking about this strange double-speak he'd been finding himself caught up in lately with Dorian Fisk. Was there an ulterior meaning to what Leonid Fisk had just said? Would Ford responding in a certain way send a message that he was or wasn't up for a particular kind of follow-up?

Ford's cheeks flushed. "No, it's, uhm — it's very nice of you to offer. About the drinks. And it, ah, sounds lovely," he attempted, but — lovely, what kind of a word was lovely? Why had he chosen that particular word? He was making an absolute fool of himself, he was sure, and he wasn't even sure what he was saying. "I'm just — very busy, you know, with my sister's debut coming up and everything, so — but, it's, uhm, not that I wouldn't —" What was he even trying to say now? He didn't know, and he very much wished this conversation was already over. "Uhm, so, thank you, and — and I'll let you know."

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