The kitchen door swung open. Fahran approached, smiling back over his shoulder at beaming little girl at the center of the crowd as the staff launched into a jovial second verse. The waiter turned back to Calvin as he reached the table.

     “Here you are, Sir.” Fahran said. Calvin’s hand released a fist he hadn’t realized had formed and pulled away from his phone. He sat up a bit straighter to keep out of the waiter’s way. So much for protocol. Fahran set about arranging the fragrant dishes around the table, buttermilk and a basket of roti set at center.

      “Thanks, Fah-ran.” Calvin stumbled over the name as he caught a glimpse of the young man’s wrists. Specifically the mismatched cufflinks; one plain brass square with a red enamel inlay on his right, the left adorned by a dual ‘A’ parachute emblem.

     Calvin’s eyes rocketed up to Fahran’s, a thread of urgency pulling his voice low and sharp.

     “82nd Airborne. Who served, son? What’s their specialty?”

     Fahran blinked, and stammered his reply.

      “M-my cousin, sir. Paratrooper medic. Why?”

      “Because I need to trust you, and I need you to trust me.” Calvin stared down the stunned young man. “Relax. Stay casual, Fahran. Don’t be scared.” Fahran swallowed nervously and nodded once as Calvin tugged his suit coat aside to reveal the shield-and-eagle badge clipped to his belt.

      “Special Agent Calvin Laurens, FBI.”

      The young man’s eyes bulged in surprise, narrowed in disbelief, relaxed conclusively and set firmly to attention. Fahran busied himself re-arranging the dishes on the table and lowered his tone of voice to match Calvin’s.

      “What do you need, sir?”

      Calvin refastened his coat and procured a pen and sketchbook from a pocket and began to scribble out a phone number and a few phrases. “There is a very dangerous man here, the perp from my investigation. I need you to call out for backup so I can arrest him safely.”

       He tore the page from his book and gave it to Fahran. A round of applause rose from the kitchen staff as the singing finished and an ecstatic little girl blew out the candle in her mango ice cream. Fahran looked down at the page.

       Calvin continued. “Call the number, it’ll be my boss who answers. Tell him ‘A Little Tiger is here,’ he’ll know what it means. Give him the address here. The next line is my ID code phrase, read it off when they ask for it. They’ll probably come with the local police. Make sure you tell them to keep their sirens off, got it?”

       Fahran’s head wobbled side to side in nervous excitement. Calvin raised an eyebrow, trying not to dwell on the stereotype. “Got it, Fahran?”

     The restroom door’s latch clicked as Hiromi emerged. Fahran looked at her and smiled down at Calvin as he folded the small paper and slipped it into his apron pocket.

      “Tiger here, ID code, backup, no sirens. Yes sir, Mr. Calvin.” The waiter wiped away a bead of sweat.

     Together the two raised masks of small talk to greet Hiromi as she retook her seat. Her gaze danced between the two smiles.

     “Did I miss something, boys? Looks like you made fast friends.” Hiromi said. Fahran looked over at Calvin, who cleared his throat before speaking.

     “Ah, Fahran here was just telling me a little more about his grandfather back in, uh…” Calvin trailed off as Fahran picked up the slack.

      “Dhudike, sir.”

      “Right, Dhudike!” Calvin grinned, turning back to Fahran and tilting his head in apology. “So sorry son, I’m terrible with names.”

      Hiromi laughed and patted Fahran’s arm. “Well thank you for keeping him here. I was so busy fumbling with my contact I worried he thought I’d ditched him!” The waiter bowed.

      “No trouble at all, Ma’am. I trust you’ll have a pleasant evening. I’ll be back around if you need anything else.” Fahran’s eyes disappeared into his smile as he hurried back to the kitchen. Calvin stole a look over at Lewis the tiger tattooed and company. The four imposing men seemed at ease. Business was over, just four men enjoying a meal.

      Hiromi’s voice pulled Calvin back, followed by the rustle of her adjusting her skirt.

      “Soooo…” She crooned from a high note down to her speaking register. “Son? Is there something you’re hiding from me?” She asked with a lighthearted smile.

Calvin’s half grin reappeared as he rubbed his forehead with his palm and looked her in the eye.

      “Just that I guess I’m about 60 years behind the times.” Calvin chuckled. He looked down to contemplate the meal before them and paused, finding himself at a complete loss for additional words. Instead he tore off a bit of roti, folded it and dipped it into the Saag.

       “In any case, everything smells wonderful.” Hiromi commented as she lifted her spoon tucked into her meal. “Good thing too, I’m famished.”

       Calvin smiled, nodded in agreement with a brief “Mhm!” and took his first bite. Though richly aromatic and perfectly seasoned, the roti-wrapped morsel didn’t even register on his tongue. He chewed it mechanically, swallowed it. Prepared another bite. A long moment passed as the couple ate in silence.

      Calvin lifted his eyes to look at Hiromi. Her attention was off to the side, taking in the mural artwork along the wall near the kitchen door. Her eyes were focused, her lips pushed out ever so slightly in thought. A hint of warmth started to emerge as his gaze traced the profile of her cheeks, but tore away when Lewis the arms dealer stretched, bringing that tiny tiger back into view just behind Hiromi’s shoulder. Calvin’s eyes narrowed. The way the tiger tattoo flexed with Lewis’ neck felt menacing, like the beast was on guard even as the man it sat upon raised a glass to… something. Calvin darted his eyes around to the few other patrons of the restaurant, counted potential collateral. Should he start finding an excuse to clear out the building?

      Hey, aren’t you on a date?

      Calvin nodded to himself even as he checked the door to verify a clear exit route.

      Say something.

      Calvin scrambled to find a thought worth presenting as he forced his attention back where it belonged. Maybe ask about her dogs’ names? I mean Ed I get, but Spike? Maybe it’s-

       “What do you think about tigers?”

       Hiromi was still staring over at the wall as she asked her question. Calvin blanched at the subject and the suddenness.

       “What? Tigers?” He asked.

      Hiromi’s eyes met his. “Yup, Tigers! Do you like them?”

       “Uh… nope, not a fan.” The words came out a half-octave too high, slightly choked. He cleared his throat, tried to relax his tone. “Are you?”

       Hiromi shook her head. Her gaze dropped as she looked back over at the wall, and her face grew dark and almost somber. Maybe it was just the way her hair had shifted; one lock was casting a long shadow over her eyes.

      “Not lately.” She flipped the rogue hair back into place, brightening back up with a wink and pointing toward the mural. “Though they can have their moments.”

      Calvin’s brow raised and he looked where she’d pointed. In the midst of the elaborately painted scenes of Indian mythology and tucked below a portrait of the monkey king Hanuman was a roughly rendered tiger cub sporting an ear-to-ear, toothy grin of childish wonder in what was otherwise a field of serenity. Something about it broke his air of macabre as Calvin let out an unintended “Awwwwwwwww.”

       Hiromi snickered, hinting mischief.

      “You know, there’s a signature down there, too.”

      Calvin squinted, but it wasn’t hard to find. A large orange ‘F’ preceded a bit of jumbled lettering with a distinct ‘h’ in the middle and either an ‘m’ or ‘n’ finishing it off.

       “You’re kidding.” Calvin said. A smile did its best to sneak over his lips.

       “I’ll bet it’s a family-owned restaurant.” Hiromi said. “We should ask him about it next time he comes around. Maybe his parents or siblings are working the kitchen!” She began to munch another bite behind a tiny smirk.

       The kitchen.

Calvin felt his eyes drawn to the kitchen door and knew that his demeanor was slipping. How many more people are back there?

       “That’s a good idea! I definitely saw some resemblance when the staff came out to sing.” Calvin replied. He’d counted four people, excepting Fahran, singing earlier. Enough to keep even a small operation like this running smoothly. Seemed like a safe estimate.

       The door swung wide, the waitress from Lewis’ table stepped out carrying a tray of desserts. She didn’t bear much resemblance to Fahran; not with those green eyes and the shock of red hair pulled up into a loose bun.

      Hiromi swallowed. Calvin’s internal joke slipped out. “Of course, I might just be profiling.” Hiromi said nothing, just looked away for a moment as if lost in thought. Over her shoulder Calvin watched Lewis’ waitress set down the tray and take a piece of paper from the Goateed man. It didn’t look like the check or a receipt, and suddenly that waitress seemed very out of place.

      He took a sip of his drink. By his estimate, they had less than five minutes before the fourth date secret reared its ugly head. Now… where do I go from here?

       His nose itched. He scratched it. Across the small table Hiromi’s lips parted. Her thumb brushed over her ear as if combing a hiding spot for words. Finding none, the thumb proceeded to press to her lips as they pursed back together. Calvin’s eyes flicked to the right, following the joyous, birthday-celebrating family as they exited, chattering amongst themselves in politely hushed voices. With a near imperceptible sigh of relief Calvin brought his eyes back to center. They came to rest on the hesitant look behind Hiromi’s thumb. He swallowed. Tried again to sell his excitement. She didn’t buy it.

       “Calvin, what’s going on?” She posed the question simply. He blinked.

       “What do you mean?” He asked, dead man’s courage lifting a half smile with the wrong side of his mouth.

       Hiromi’s chest rose as breath rushed into her. Her hand fell away from her pursed lips as her eyes closed. When they reopened, a spark of displeasure glowed in her irises. Calvin’s heart sank low and began to pound.

      “You’ve been on edge all night. Glancing around, sizing up the other customers. You’ve barely even looked at me, and I know you try to meet people’s eyes during conversations. It’s like you’re in another world.” Calvin opened his mouth and grasped for words. She didn’t give an opening to find them. “I need you to be straight with me, Calvin. What’s wrong?”

      “I’m just having a very, very off day.” He said, trying to force the sincerity in his smile to override the growing panic within. Hiromi reached across the table and set her fingertips on Calvin’s. As soon as they made contact, his hand tensed into a tight fist capped with a boxer’s thumb. He didn’t look down, keeping his gaze fixed on her face, brutally aware his jaw had set and locked again.

      “See that?” She said tersely. “What has you wound so tight that you can’t even be touched? That takes more than an ‘off’ day.”

      With conscious effort Calvin released his gritted teeth and forced his hand to open and turn over under her palm. His cheeks twitched as he tried to loosen his stern brow. It didn’t budge.

      “It’s a work thing. I’m trying not to think about it, but it’s really eating at me.” Calvin stated in an even, measured voice, eyes unwaveringly set on Hiromi’s face. The ember of anger in her eyes seemed to have burned out. She sighed.

     “I know how it is, my work’s demanding too.” Vibrato filled her voice, the flurry of emotion subsiding as she relaxed. “But you’ve kind of been scaring me.”

      Calvin wrapped his fingers around Hiromi’s palm and squeezed momentarily.

      “I’m sorry.” He said. A distant police siren wailed, followed immediately by another. The gentle squeeze became tight. One. Simple. Instruction. You’re killing me, guys! Calvin let go of her hand altogether and shot a glance at the door, gulping in a breath he’d been putting off for a few seconds. His reaction wasn’t unnoticed.

      “Wait, are you in some kind of trouble?” Hiromi’s voice dropped to a whisper, her expression tightening to suspicious concern.

      Calvin grimaced, checking the four men in the booth ahead. They all stared intently at the door, listening to the siren sing out again. His voice rumbled low as he shifted in his seat.

      “No, not exactly, but I really think I should get you home.” Calvin stood up, offering his hand again. Hiromi ignored it as she rose to her feet.

      “Maybe we can reschedule after you get this work… thing resolved?” Hiromi asked, raising a small smile under eyes which still held onto concern. The waver in her voice made Calvin wonder if she was just being polite.

      “I’d love that. More than anything, but for right now do you mind if I get you a taxi? I’m afraid I’m going to need to stay here.”

      Hiromi’s eyes narrowed with curiosity and a question rose to her lips. One she didn’t get to ask thanks to the reappearance of Fahran beside their table.

      “Mr. Calvin?” The young man said with a wholly unconvincing smile. Calvin glanced at Hiromi before replying.

      “Yes?”

       Fahran stumbled through his thoughts. “There was… um, a call for you. A friend of yours? They wanted me to tell you ‘Eenie-meenie-minie moe.’ I think it was a joke, but he said you’d know what he meant.”

      Calvin nodded and pushed his cheeks up into an overambitious grin.

      “Yeah, I know what he means. Thanks for letting me know!” Fahran relaxed.

      “We’re just finishing up. Could you bring the check please? I need to step out for just a moment, get Miss Hiromi here a cab. I’ll take care of it when I come back for these.”

      Calvin pulled out his keys and set them on the table. The waiter bowed slightly and started to turn away. Calvin caught his arm and stared Fahran dead in the eye.

      “Take your time, it might be a minute.” He said. Back to Hiromi, Calvin continued to mouth words at the young man even after his voice had stopped.

      Stay in the kitchen. Don’t let anyone through the front.

      Calvin let go of Fahran’s arm. The waiter nodded.

      “Of course, sir. I’ll just place it under your keys.”

      The police siren wailed again, closer but still echoing through the city streets. Hiromi pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder, now very clearly displeased. Calvin put on a smile.

      “Shall we go?” he asked.

     She shook her head. “No. I’ll go. I think I’ve got a handle on what’s happening here.”

     Calvin’s brow knit inquisitively. “You do?