Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(40)

“Prem, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

At the end of the hall was a large open space with bench seats. A woman stood in front of a sketch of the original Met Museum and held up a clipboard, calling everyone to attention. Her hair was fire-engine red, and she was wearing coveralls that reminded him of the Ghostbusters jumpsuits with large black combat boots and hot pink laces.

“There has been a murder in the museum!” she shouted in a Broadway voice.

There was a wave of hushed whispers across the crowd gathered in front of her.

“What in the hell?”

“Shh, she’s about to give the instructions,” Prem said. He leaned in to whisper it in her ear and delighted in the rise of goose bumps along her neck that stretched under the crisp collar of her shirt. “This is important.”

The woman took a deep breath, and she practically bristled with indignation. “An art curator was found dead in the Asian artifacts wing with a centuries-old dagger stabbed through his heart. There are four suspects, and it is up to you to find out who the killer is. Please hand in your tickets and get your information pamphlet and pencils. You have two hours, and you must stay together to win together. If you decide to leave prior to finding the killer, you will not be issued a refund.”

“Oh my god,” Kareena said, her voice reverent. She gripped Prem’s bicep, crushing the fabric of his polo shirt. “Is this . . . is this a murder mystery scavenger hunt at the Metropolitan Museum of Art?”

He grinned. “Cool, huh? I remember you saying that you liked murder mystery theater. I thought this might be a fun date idea.”

“Absolutely,” she said. She bounced on her heeled toes and clapped her hands like a dolphin. “Oh my god. I wonder what kind of dagger it is. Do you think we get to see some of the closed exhibits for investigation purposes? Oh wait, what are your strengths? We should compare notes.”

Prem learned something in that moment as he listened to her ramble. There was no filter when it came to Kareena Mann. As brash as she may be on a normal day, apparently she showed unfiltered joy as well.

“Don’t forget,” the woman who looked like Ms. Frizzle shouted. “The first group back here gets a coupon to the Met cafeteria!”

When the moderator began directing people to form lines, Kareena turned to Prem, her eyes bright. “Why would you go out of your way to plan something like this? I thought we were just supposed to get to know each other so we don’t look like idiots if we have to use Plan B.”

“I want to prove to you that we’re a team, Rina,” he said. He tilted his head toward the scavenger hunt organizer. “That if you agree to do this with me, we could both get what we want because we can win together. We’re not on opposite sides of a table anymore.”

Understanding dawned on her face and she nodded. “Smooth,” she said. “This was really smooth, Dr. Dil.”

“I thought so.” He slung an arm over her shoulders, enjoying the feel of her close to him. “Now come on.”

They made their way to the front of the line where people were grabbing different colored pamphlets and pencils. Before they could take theirs, a group of kids, both South and East Asian, cut in front of them.

“We’re so going to win,” one of the children said to them. “You may want to cut your losses now.”

Prem and Kareena looked at each other and when their eyes met, they nodded in unison. There must’ve been some unspoken children of immigrants’ message that passed between them.

Their competition grabbed their supplies and left, their heads held high.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Prem said quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking but I’m thinking these kids have nothing on us.”

Prem handed her a pencil and pamphlet. “Here. Where do you want to start?”

“With the instructions,” Kareena said.

“You have five minutes!” the organizer shouted. “Then we’ll unblock the entrance, and the hunt begins!”

Kareena led Prem over to an empty bench in the corner. She began reading through the bio of all the suspects and circled clues as she went.

Prem read quickly, cross-referencing Kareena’s notes that he was able to see from over her shoulder. “What do you think about matching the clues with the rooms, so we’re not going back and forth across the museum?” he asked.

“Good idea. Can you check the map?”

He was already pulling up the museum map on his phone to look up the room numbers on the pamphlet.

“Um, why are you still here? We told you we were going to win. Aren’t you two a little old to do this?” The interruption came from one of the South Asian girls who had forced her way in line ahead of them.

The comment was callous considering there were other grown couples participating in the hunt.

“Aren’t you too young to not have a chaperone?” Kareena replied.

“Whatever,” one of the petite girls with pink hair said. “You probably will know all the answers because you lived through the time period.”

“Yeah, with your dad. Tell him I said hi.”

Prem muffled a laugh this time when every single one of the teenagers stared back at them with traumatized expressions on their faces.