She injected just the right amount of flustered sheepishness into her smile, giggled behind her hand. "Oh my; yes, I am. Do you enjoy the theatre, sir?" Which, fortunately, seemed enough to get him to launch into a very long and florid speech about just how much he enjoyed the theatre, and just how lovely she was in Fedoro, and he had been in the third row on opening night, and wouldn't she like a cup of coffee sometime...
She smiled and simpered and eventually begged off, using her troublesome apprentice as an excuse to get out of the date he so clearly wanted - ugh - but he produced a playbill, clearly folded and refolded multiple times by the white creases, and she signed it with a flourish, putting a lip print on it for good measure as she had taken the habit of doing after the Founders' Festival.
Then, grabbing the boy firmly by the arm, she began pulling him away towards the lemonade stand. It didn't seem likely the thoroughly charmed mark would change his mind now, but one never knew.
It was not until he had disappeared in the crowd that she changed direction, tugging her charge toward the mouth of an alleyway instead. She didn't release his arm until they were in the narrow, shaded space between two buildings. Then she put her hands on her hips and let the cheery facade fade away to be replaced with extreme exasperation. "Did you get a new pair of hands, since the last time I saw you?" she asked. "I have to wonder. That was pathetic. And by the way, you're welcome."