Mr. Satan always wore a mask during the day. The private room was quiet and private. If they were sitting in the lobby, everyone would surely point and gossip at him.
Emily's tone was polite. "I'm sorry, but we're not quite comfortable. Could you go and ask the guests in other rooms?"
The waiter looked troubled too. "I've asked them all. None of them are willing. Ma'am, could you please help? I'm really in a difficult position..."
Emily was a kind person, considering the waiter's predicament.
So she said, "Then, Mr. Satan, shall we take the salad back to our room?"
The waiter was relieved. "Thank you so much..."
"No," Mr. Satan's tone was cold. "We'll eat here."
Emily nudged him. "Whether we eat here or go back, it's the same..."