When Isabel reminded him of the proper name, Ernest laughed with her. "Oh, no wonder his face was a damn picture," he laughed. He almost launched into telling her about inventing a new type of daiquiri, and it was generally his go-to tactic to buy this cocktail for any woman who happened to be in Cuba with him. He could imagine it wouldn't have the same impact on Isabel, though.
He must've looked surprised when he felt her foot against his leg, and his stupid mind was completely torn. Let her continue, or own up. Let her continue, or own up. He just watched her, apparently deciding to let her continue through his lack of any kind of action.