"They're a good band," Venti observed as he watched TK and the Steel Drum Review playing on the stage. "I don't think I've ever been to a Jamaican restaurant before."

Art took a sip of his wine. "Then I'm happy to broaden your horizons," he said with a smile.

"It's not going to be enough to want to be a party animal, though," Venti chuckled, taking a bite of his fish. "How's your curry shrimp?" he asked, looking at Art's plate. It was filled with the shrimp, along with white rice and a small salad. "Is it any good?"

"It's delightful, though I think I ordered too much." Art rubbed his temples for a moment, then returned the question. "How's the callaloo stuffed baked fish?"

Venti speared a portion of the fish with his fork, then held it up to his nose, inhaling the delicious aroma. "Each bite is a little piece of Heaven. I'm going to have to get the recipe and cook it myself one of these days."

Art rubbed his temple again.

"You all right?" Venti asked, his concern for the lion blunting his appetite.

"Yeah. It's just the headache's getting to me."

Venti reached over and took Art's hand into his own. "Are you going to be okay? Would you like to go home?"

Art shook his head, patting the large hand with an easy smile. "No, I just need to take the pills the doctor gave me."

"Did I tell you how frantic I felt when I saw the police cars at work? Then when they told me you'd been shot, I thought..."

Art kept his hand over Venti's. "I was worried too," he admitted, "because I was afraid I was going to miss our date. I don't think I've ever had to cancel a date due to being shot. I hope I never have to, either."

Venti nodded in agreement, then made a fist, raising it in front of his chest. "If I ever see that old ermine," he announced, "I'll make his drink order incorrectly."

"You rebel."

"Damn right I am, but before I would do that I'll overcharge him."

Art laughed softly. "Now you're being pure evil."

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