The Sleeping Serpent

The Sleeping Serpent - Chapter 1

All is clouded by desire: as fire by smoke, as a mirror by dust...
Through these it blinds the soul.

The Bhagavad Gita

1

The breath of the passengers created a layer of condensation on the windows of the plane obscuring his view of the city. Nicolás wiped the window with the sleeve of his jacket to get a clear view. Looking out, he surveyed the landscape with a shiver of delight. The vast expanse of Southern California...mountains, deserts, canyons, and plateaus appeared rugged and unwelcoming, yet magnetic to all seeking wealth and celebrity. Los Angeles, and the promise of a fresh life, stretched deliciously below him.
He hadn't actually wanted to leave New York, but circumstances had forced him to seek a new home. As an intuitive man, Nicolás had an innate sense of when it was time to move on, and that time had come for him in more places than he cared to remember. Still, each move brought a certain tingle of anticipation. He craved novelty...new life...new energy. Most of all, he craved new women.

° ° °

Walking into the dimly lit restaurant, Luna took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The elderly pianist was warming up with the Liszt paraphrase from Verdi's Rigoletto, and though she wasn't as brilliant as Cziffra, the runs were bright and agile. Luna had been coming to this Hollywood haunt for decades, ever since moving to Los Angeles when she was in her twenties and working as assistant to an Academy Award-winning costume designer. The front room of La Forza was packed with regulars eating at the bar, and Luna wove her way toward the reservation desk, past a long farmhouse table filled with noisy locals. A large wooden hutch behind them displayed the restaurant's renowned cookbooks, exclusive bottles of olive oil, and Sicilian sea salt. Shelves mounted on ochre-colored plaster walls held antique crockery and colorful majolica plates, warmly illuminated by candlelight and copper chandeliers. The charming ambiance, reminiscent of a general store tucked into the hills of Tuscany, always comforted her.

Seeing Luna and her husband, Tyler, enter the restaurant along with four friends, the owner, Mario, rushed over to greet them. "Luna! Bella, where have you been? I'm so glad you came!" Mario exuberantly gave double-cheek kisses to all the women, embraced Tyler, and vigorously shook the other men's hands. "We have a wonderful mezzo visiting us from Paris Opera. She'll be singing the aria from Carmen tonight!" Such animated enthusiasm had helped make La Forza the enduring institution it now was.

Luna thought he looked better than when she last saw him. His middle-aged pasty and portly look had been replaced with a shaved head and a leaner, more muscular body. Chatting nonstop, he led them to a rustic wood table with mismatched primitive spindle-back chairs. An earthenware milk pitcher filled with thistles and wildflowers provided privacy from a nearby table. The piano area, where the guest singers would perform, was just far enough away to not inhibit conversation. Once everyone was comfortably seated, Mario drew up an extra chair near Luna to catch up on industry gossip.

Luna's latest job was the new hit series Going My Way, about four young, artistic women living in L.A., trying to navigate their careers and love lives. Luna described it as Sex and the City meets Entourage. As head costume designer, she applied her personal style, using trendy designers and vintage clothing to create cool looks. Having received critical acclaim for the first season, Luna was counting on this series to be the defining project of her career, earning her the Emmy she had long coveted but had so far eluded her.

Feeling a bit guilty, she lamented, "I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while, but I've just been so busy on the show."

Always charming, Mario teased flirtatiously, "Ah...where does the time go, bella? I remember you waltzing in like an exquisite butterfly, and all the heads would turn to stare. So pretty-and sexy!"