His eyes locked, but not with hers.

      Once set, his eyes began to track over her right shoulder to keep pace with their target. The target passed behind the flowing locks that framed her cheeks, followed by his gaze. Off past the left shoulder of her simple white blouse, his eyes leapt out into open air until their target took a seat. Back turned to the watching eyes and small tiger tattoo clearly visible beneath his cropped hair, the sturdily built man began to converse with the others at his table. Midway across the restaurant, the watchers own conversation began.

     “Same rules?”

      His eyes snapped back to her as he took his seat, his features softening to match her pleasant smile. Her lip curled just a little higher on the left. He liked that. “Of course,” He said. The couple raised their cell phones in tandem.

      “First, no phones.” Hiromi cocked her head to the side as they pressed their power buttons in unison and waited until both phones powered down. Calvin returned the phone to his coat pocket as she picked up where he’d left off.

      “Next, no arguing about the check.” She winked and darted her hand to her purse. Too slow! Crouched in the classic cowboys stance, his fingers had already drawn his leather billfold. The wallet hit the table with a muffled ‘thud’ by the time she’d unclasped the purse and retrieved her own. Calvin flashed a crooked smile.

      “I’ve got it tonight.” He said, sliding the wallet off the table and re-holstering it in his back pocket. Hiromi nodded, pouting out one lip and feigning haughty superiority as she smoothed out her skirt beneath the table.

      “That’ll go differently next time.” She huffed, nose pointed to the overhead lights and eyes closed daintily as she continued.

     “I’ll be wearing something with pockets.” Hiromi broke her prim character as Calvin retook his seat and queried “Final rule?”

      Both answered together, heads leaned toward the center of the table.

      “Don’t tell me what you do for a living.” Hiromi smiled again, sat back up and lifted her menu.

      “That’s still a fourth date secret” she said. Calvin shifted so the point of his badge would stop digging into his hip and straightened his tie, shoulder holster silently patting the soft joint of his vest.

      “Agreed.” He replied audibly. Inaudibly he continued. I had enough time; I really could have left the gear behind. Yet his eyes shot back to the tiger tattoo across the room, his prior unease presenting its justification.

       The waiter appeared tableside.

       “Good evening” The young man said. Hiromi glanced up at him.

     “Hi!” She chirped warmly. Calvin lifted his gaze to focus on the well-dressed teenager and noted the boy’s turban was hand wrapped in traditional Sihk fashion. The waiter spoke again, the words dancing off his tongue in the drawn out rhythm of northern India.

       “My name is Fahran, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two anything to drink while you look things over?” Hiromi nodded.

      “Um, yes. Could I get a glass of water and a small Mango Lassi?” She asked. Fahran nodded and flipped open his palm notebook.

      “Of course, Miss.” He turned to Calvin.

     “And for you, sir?”

      Calvin cleared his throat. “Ah… a glass of Shikanje, please.” The thought of Lassi was tempting, but the yogurt drink had always struck him as too rich to accompany a meal. Fahran finished jotting down the orders. “Water, Lassi and a Shikanje... very well…” He smiled pleasantly and bowed slightly as he pocketed his notebook. “I’ll be back shortly.”

      The young man turned away as the couple raised their menus. Calvin peered over his to survey the restaurant’s other patrons. A family, possibly celebrating, sat at a long table against the wall to his right.

        Calvin raised his menu and asked, “How’s your Corgi’s recovery going?” Hiromi‘s fingers passed through her hair in his peripheral sight before she replied.

      “Spike? He’s feeling a lot better. The vet still wants me to wrap the leg so he can’t get too crazy, but he seems content cuddling with his toys most of the day.”

      “Good, good.” Calvin replied absently as his head turned just slightly to the left, senses continuing to dance around the room. He got a little lost in the spicy aromas drifting about, a glorious river of flavors, rich buttery ghee supporting sharp notes of coriander and the mellow pungency of slow cooked garlic, but as he exhaled he made it the edge of his view, where he picked out a few more people, a group of older ladies judging by the cane leaned on their table and the discussion of Betty Grable’s singing. 

      Shouldn’t be too difficult to clear the civilians from room. Calvin thought, checking the exit ahead and to the left. Still clear. Wait it out, see who’ll leave on their own. With any luck, I might not even need the fire alarm.

     Again his gaze settled on the four imposing men dead ahead, mind echoing his briefing. The man sporting the tiger tattoo: Anderson Lewis. That was his name. Across from Lewis, an older man with a goatee so classically villainous it seemed lifted straight from the pages of a comic book. Identifiable markings: gunshot scar, left forearm. Tattoo of tiger, Approx. 3 inches long located on back of neck.

      Beside each of the two men sat a shaven headed muscleman who’d be hard pressed to find recognition as anything but bodyguards. Last seen escaping raid on the Roosevelt Private Airstrip three weeks ago. Calvin’s teeth set. Current location unknown.

      Hiromi’s voice gently cut through his thoughts. “How about your niece? Were you able to make it to her presentation, Mr. Consultant?”

      “Hm?” He hummed, processing the question before grinning, meeting Hiromi’s gaze and becoming aware that he had his menu upside down.

       “Oh, Tessa! Right!” Calvin laid the menu back on the table and prayed she hadn’t noticed. “Yep, I managed to get off the clock in time. Turns out she really was paying attention!” He already knew his order, but he heard a tiny amused breath... yup, busted. “She made it through Sybil Ludington’s ride, but the teacher shut down her down when she hit the twenty-minute mark, right after she introduced Knowlton’s Rangers.”

      Hiromi nodded approvingly, folding her menu and sliding it on top of Calvin’s. “Good for her! What did her parents think?” Calvin shook his head and shrugged, bemusement in his voice.

      “Ah, Sis and her hubby shot me a few dirty looks,” He said. “But I think they’re just glad her interest in the era has expanded beyond the scope of ‘Hamilton.’”

       Calvin’s eyes darted over to check on the men in the booth ahead. They were receiving their drinks from a waitress. Another unbidden bit of intel drifted past his ear. Wanted for illicit arms trade and two counts of attempted homicide of a federal agent. The young lady seemed remarkably at ease with the hulking figures. Calvin’s eyebrows knit and relaxed, repressing business.

      Hiromi’s eyes were twinkling above a knowing and infectious smile. Calvin tilted his head forward to invite her response. She obliged.

      “I think that’s wonderful. A young lady’s enthusiasm for learning should get to run a bit rampant every now and then.” Calvin saw the sheen of a memory behind her eyes.

      “Is there a story there?” He probed. She tilted her head and shrugged, eyes shifting to her left at the clicking of dress shoes on tile.

     “Yes, but one that has to wait a moment.” Hiromi said softly as the clicking of dress shoes brought Fahran back to their table with a few glasses balanced on a serving tray.

      “Mango Lassi and Shikanje, here you go…” The waiter said, setting the drinks before the couple. He pulled back, slipped the tray under his arm and flipped open his notebook. His pen clicked to readiness as he glanced between Calvin and Hiromi.

      “Are we ready to order?”

      Hiromi’s eyes met with Calvin’s. He blinked and tilted his head forward, checking for a go-no-go with a hand turning slightly toward Fahran Hiromi nodded and turned to address the waiter.

      “Yes, I think we are!” As Hiromi spoke, Calvin took the chance to shift his field of focus back to the booth in the corner ahead. The two smooth heads of the muscle men were swiveling to take in the restaurant.

     “Garam Masala with Rice, please.” Hiromi’s voice kept Calvin grounded as he watched the man with the tiger tattoo gesturing to the older goateed man. The way the tattooed man’s hand swayed, it seemed like a sales pitch delivered in hand motions and hushed tones. Fahran was asking about chicken now. Calvin’s attention slipped away to the details from the briefing dossier once more floating up from somewhere behind his right ear. He needed a plan. Calvin’s jaw clenched again. Almost a month in a van, and the second I’m off the clock, Lewis just shows up? That Tiger-obsessed punk! Is he trying to lure out the team? Calvin adjusted his jacket, felt the weight of his useless phone swing gently as he prepared to check back in on his own table. No, if he had names and faces, they’d have made me by now.

      “Will that be everything?” Fahran's voice jammed Calvin’s thoughts. “Sir?”

      “Ah, Food! Rrrrrright.” Calvin rolled out the sound as his brain popped the clutch and jammed back into gear. “Could I get an order of the Saag Paneer with a side of buttermilk and an order of Wheat Roti, please?”

      “Saag Paneer, Wheat Roti and Buttermilk.” Fahran repeated, glancing up at Calvin and asking for confirmation with his eyebrow as he finished writing. Calvin nodded with an assuring grunt.

      “Excellent choice, a favorite of my Grandfather.” Fahran mused before turning to Hiromi. “Will there be anything else?”

      The couple shared a glance and a couple of head shakes before Hiromi spoke.

      “No, I think that’ll be all. Thank you so much!” she said. Calvin nodded his agreement, releasing the tension in his face. Fahran bowed slightly, turned back to the kitchen and walked towards it. Hiromi’s gaze followed Calvin’s fingertip as it rubbed a tight circle over his right temple, trying to sweep away his thoughts. One echoed stubbornly. Assume to be armed and dangerous at all times. Do not engage alone. Signed, Dep. H. Nakamura. He cleared his throat.

     “So… story time?” Calvin asked as he brought out a smile and set his hands on the table. “Are you a hobby historian too?”

     Hiromi mirrored him, folding her hands in front of her. When her palms touched down, her eyes rolled up and left, her smile giving way to a deep breath.

      Calvin lifted an eyebrow.

      She spoke, once more meeting his gaze. “Oh yes. Nothing as impressive as being an encyclopedia Americana at seven, but between high school and college, I used to get routinely dismissed from class for being too long winded in history or philosophy presentations.”

      Calvin’s eyes grew round. “You got thrown out for working too hard?” Hiromi nodded and sipped her Lassi before replying. “Yes I did… no less than twelve times in six years.” A sarcastic smirk crossed her brow before dropping into her voice. “Didn’t everyone?”

      Her date shook his head. “I got tossed out once when I wrote a 15 page smart-alec report on how ‘A Christmas Carol’ is secretly about the European opium epidemic, but that… that’s not really the same.”

      Hiromi giggled. The sound played musically in Calvin’s ears before being cut short by a sneeze. He leaned forward as she blinked rapidly, eyes growing slightly wet.

      “You okay?” Calvin asked. Hiromi stifled another cough, nodded and took a sip of water before replying.

      “I’m fine, I think my allergy meds have worn off.” She dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye and picked up her purse. “Either that or someone in here has a cat. I hope you don’t mind, I need to go take care of this, get some eye drops in.” Hiromi stood and stepped off to the left.

      “Of course!” Calvin raised his palms. “I’ll be here.”

      “I sure hope so!” Hiromi gave a half smile as her eye winked several times mostly to clear whatever particulate had brought on her distress, but somehow with a flirtatious hint. Calvin’s heartbeat quickened as she vanished into the restroom; something about the way Hiromi’s eyelashes shuttered over deep hazel irises sent an electric tingle up his spine.

      Allergies really shouldn’t be that… cute.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!”

Calvin’s head whipped right to look at the kitchen staff gathered around the table of the family next to the kitchen’s entrance. They sang in unison, joined by most of the wait staff. Lewis and his crew were likewise fixated on the festivity, frozen in the tense and startled moment. A piece of paper, folded in half was held aloft by the goateed man frozen in time by the suddenness of the song. They’re wrapping up. The song carried on, each word reaching Calvin’s ears with an increasing sense of urgency. Calvin reached into his coat pocket and absently rubbed the corner of his phone. How long would it take to put eye drops in? He tossed a furtive glance at the closed restroom door. The help he needed was a text away. Could he get it sent fast enough?