Kiss me under the Hollywood sign

Chapter 12

As we walked into Ceilo, I inhaled deeply through my nose and immediately wished I hadn't. The restaurant was crammed wall-to-wall with people, and the mingled scents of expensive perfumes and cigarettes wafted through the air like invisible cocktail smoke. I tried not to gag as Daniel led me past a cluster of women in tight dresses, their necks curved like giraffes as they leaned over their plates, gossiping loudly.

"Did you see Margot at Brad's party last weekend?" one asked, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. The others clicked their tongues and shook their heads as if Margot had done something truly scandalous by showing up. I looked away, my eyes watering from the mix of fragrances assaulting my nasal passages.

The hostess greeted us, barely glancing up from her podium as she gazed disinterestedly at a flickering screen. "Name?" she droned, examining her nails for chips of polish.

"Daniel Hunter, party of two," he replied smoothly. A spark of recognition flashed across her face and she peered at him more closely, her eyebrows raising imperceptibly.

"Ah, Mr. Daniel Hunter. Welcome... Right this way."

She led us through the dining room, clicking ahead in towering stilettos, her slim calves working overtime. I trailed behind, gaping openly at the sea of patrons and gawking at a table overflowing with more dishes than I'd eaten in a month. A server wove between tightly packed chairs, somehow balancing four plates on each arm like a human octopus, though no one seemed impressed by this feat.

We passed a loud group of men in sharp suits, talking and laughing raucously with their mouths full. "Did you see the game last night?" one called across the table, spraying bits of chewed protein. His neighbor, a portly man with sweat beading on his forehead, ignored him and continued pontificating to the younger man beside him. "Back in my day, you had to work for what you wanted. These millennials want everything handed to them on a silver platter."

I glanced worriedly at Daniel but he showed no reaction, striding confidently through the mess of gossip and noise. At last, we reached a secluded corner table, tucked behind a potted ficus tree, and I sighed in relief at being removed from the chaos, if only slightly. Through the overgrown leaves, the shimmering city stretched as far as the eye could see, glittering in the late afternoon sun like a giant jeweler's showcase.

Daniel held out my chair with a flourish and I sank onto the buttery seat, rubbing my fingers over the arm rests. A few chairs down, a couple argued in hushed, hostile tones, stabbing at their plates with more aggression than hunger. I shot Daniel a nervous smile.

"Comfy?" he asked, taking his seat smoothly. I nodded, pretending my back wasn't already sticking to the fabric.

"It's quite the scene out there," I said, glancing once more behind the trees. A raucous laugh carried over as if on cue and I cringed, turning back to him. "How do you stand it?"

He chuckled. "You get used to it. The theater of the elite, I call it. They sure know how to put on a show." His eyes sparkled with amusement and I couldn't help but smile, feeling my nerves settle under his steady gaze.

Our server materialized at Daniel's elbow like a ghost, scaring me half to death. He rattled off the specials in a bored monotone, never once making eye contact or acknowledging our existence beyond reciting the menu. Daniel ordered us a selection of small plates without missing a beat, my eyes glazing over at the foreign names. When the server had slipped away again, I shook my head in disbelief.

"How do you understand a word of what he said?"

Daniel winked. "I've had a lot more practice at this game than you. But don't worry, I have discerning taste. You're in capable hands."