[He dips his head to the side.] I don't think you want me to answer that.

[He angles his glass for a glance to check how far he was from the entrance.]

On my signal[He says, raising the two fingers around the neck of his glass then bending them similar to making air quotes], tell me that you're not feeling well and want to leave. Take my arm then head to the door, but let me lead the pace. I'll take care of things then. Ready?

[He says, less a question and more as a notice to get ready, then gives her the signal. Strut your stuff, Sheryl.]