It's the left elbow that Bruce touches to ease him out of the way, and if Krauser was visibly tense before, he goes absolutely rigid at that. Stiffened posture, grit teeth, even holding his breath for a few telltale seconds. Even if that arm's been fixed, old habits die hard.

Once the waiter has passed and the contact is broken he relaxes again. Comparatively. Still with the posture and demeanor of a man who firmly believes someone's about to leap out of nowhere and try to kill him, and is ready to prevent that in six different ways.

He's expecting to just slip away back to lurking through the crowd, but the commentary on his cufflinks gives him pause. A glance downward. A scoff.

"Not really a cufflinks kind of guy." Maybe it was obvious. "Who cares?"