His smile widens by, perhaps, a millimeter, and still doesn't reach his eyes. He directs Rincewind in, away from the door, with a nod, watching him implacably all the time he gets himself prepared to step out among the customers. His hands never pause.
Privately, he's half looking forward to receiving the food orders Rincewind brings him, because Rincewind is usually so very, very tasty. The other half is a little ashamed of himself, as usual, but only, today, very slightly. Granted, the sane workers will know how seriously to take the wizzard, but every little bit helps. After all, it would be terrible if they thought they could take advantage of the fact that Xellos isn't Ivonka. No, no, he can afford to start being nice again once they've learned that they are not, actually, better off.