Chéri was used to misunderstanding. They smiled with an encouraging looked and nodded as she repeated their name. It was pretty odd, they knew, but they probably would have appreciated hearing it was cute.

Chéri almost jumped in learning that it was, indeed, Roxanne, but ended up concluding that no, she must be joking.

Chéri chuckled at the correction. “Rubì.” There was some red implication, they were absolutely sure.

“Rubì, Whitby?” Chéri asked. The real question, are you a local, was way too difficult to put together. Chéri could see why people could like her, she clearly had a sense of humor. “Rubì, long diamond pony?” Have you been working here for a long time? Would have been the translation.