"We live in America, non? De land people traveled t'fer dreams t'come true?" Remy shook his head, hand still on his wine glass, but not lifting it. The other hand took off his sunglasses - hopefully the waitress would stay away for a few minutes. "But tell ya what. We forget dat for now. We do t'night first. Wine, dinner, dessert. We pretend we what we really wanna be. Normale. We enjoy ourselves. Den we go back t'bein' stubborn, or else we can't enjoy all dis good food."
He reached out for her hand, sunglasses forgotten on the table. "Please, Roguie."