Great! A pen appears!

And a cloth napkin. Not great. Too fancy for her to dare scribble over. Being a young lady of practical sensibility, the obvious fix is to write on someone's hand. There, however, lies the dilemma: she has no sleeves to hide an inked number. It has to be him.

Paloma chews on her lip and hovers her hand over his. "If I write my number on your wrist, you could hide it and it'll wash off better than the handkerchief?"