As Per The Agreement

 She was wearing a deep scarlet short-sleeved knit top buttoned from her waist to her collar, and a shiny black pleather skirt. As she walked past him the sound of her boots on the wooden floor and the rustling crackle of her skirt caught his attention.

His ability to mask his astonishment was admirable. 

"What," he thought to himself as she strode through the busy cantina, "were the final words we spoke to one another that last day in Chula Vista? First one who spots the other has to pay for dinner? Something like that?"

He was certain she hadn't seen him, and just as certain that the odds on them both being in the same small cantina at the same time in a place over a thousand miles and ten years from where they last saw each other had to be beyond calculation.

"This is either an off the scale coincidence, or she's tracked me down for some reason. Guess I better make my way to the bar and find out which it is."

He pushed his chair back and stood up without taking his eyes off her. She had taken a seat at the left hand side of the bar, away from the crowd that was gathered around the lone television. She was focused on the menu in front of her when he approached.

He stood over her right shoulder for a few beats before he realized she was too involved in the menu to notice him.

"Hello Mrs J," he said casually with an even more casual smile. "Still dreaming about handsome firemen bursting down your door in the middle of the night?"

She turned towards him as an incredulous look appeared and disappeared on and off her face within microseconds - being able to instantaneously conceal their reactions and emotions was one of the commonalities that had made up the initial mutual attraction.

"My fixation on firemen disappeared soon after you did Mr J. -  Are you still on the trail of the elusive French femme that longs to be swept off her feet by a paunchy American car salesman?

He smirked. "Touché. I suppose I owe you dinner as per the agreement?"

"Yes, yes you do. Good to see your memory hasn't faded with your looks. Is there anywhere decent to eat in this pleasant little village?"

Pointing back towards the front door of the small cantina he retorted, "There's a respectable restaurant across the street and down a few doors. I'm fairly certain if I vouch for your character they'll allow us to dine inside."

"How regal." She said as she got off the bar stool and stood next to him. "Shall we?"

The bartender, who had been enraptured by whatever the crowd surrounding the TV was watching, suddenly appeared in front of them. "Pardon my inattention Mr Jonikas, did you wish to order this young lady a drink?"

He smiled at the bartender and replied, "This is no young lady Ralphy, this is my wife. We are going down to El Jaibo for dinner. Do not forward any calls, eh?"

Raphael stared at the heretofore never mentioned Mrs J and nodded his head.

As they walked towards the door Mrs J. pondered to herself how long the husband she hadn't seen in over a decade had been waiting to use that line.