Talk Of The Town | ongoing

13

A sleek car pulled up outside the building at sharp seven. Brody rolled the window down, smiling.

"Have fun and give me all the details," Taylor whispered when Anya hugged her farewell.

"You wish."

"I'm serious."

Anya waited for the three hurrying mothers with strollers to walk by before dashing toward the car. It took her two hours to perfect the big bouncy curls. There's no way she is letting a drizzle ruin them.

"Hi, you're right on time."

"Hi, for you," Brody said, pulling an elegant rose bouquet with a fuchsia ribbon from the backseat.

"Thank you, it's beautiful."

"You're welcome. It matches your dress too."

Anya smiled. Taylor, of course, plans the best surprises. She had insisted on this pink, flowy chiffon dress instead of jeans and a casual jumper. It's also matching with Brody's black suit. Wherever he's taking her would be posh and chic.

Sliding the seatbelt in its place, she relaxed in her seat. She is going on a dinner date with Brody Farris.

However, Anya did not recognise the roads or the place. Noise pollution became less, though. Brody turned into a private gravel road of a sprawling one-story white mansion. Changing colour lights illuminated the two giant fountains on both sides.

"Is this your house?" She asked as he stopped the car on the patio.

"No, this is Sunset House. Most celebrities dine here. It's one of those places we can eat without paparazzi or the public staring at us. I invited you to dinner. I want to give you all my attention. No interruption."

"That's sweet and considerate."

Anya is grateful for the darkness as her cheeks turn redder than they already were. Brody tossed the car key to a valet as a young man welcomed them. They shook hands, reminiscing about the last time Brody came here and the new items on the menu. They talked like good friends instead of an employee greeting a customer.

Hanging her bag at her elbow, Anya could swear a famous British actress walked past her. She dared not look behind as she'd be considered the 'prying public.'

Checkered tiles covered the entire floor of Sunset House. Mirrors and portraits of aristocrats lined the wall. A replica of the Mona Lisa hung in all grandeur. Anya reached for her phone in her bag and paused.

Nope, this is the kind of behaviour to avoid.

The man led them to the back of the house and opened a door. A semi-lit chandelier brightened the white-clothed table. The vase set in the middle was the same colour as her bouquet. Soft jazz emanated from the corner speakers.

"Please, have a seat," the young man insisted, pouring wine into a glass.

"She doesn't drink alcohol," Brody disclosed.

"Of course, sir, I'll bring our finest non-alcoholic drink while you look at the menu."

"Thank you, Brody. How are you going to drive back?" Anya hinted after he left.

"I'm not a big boozer. I'm having this little glass. Then, I'll have the same drink as you. I hope you don't mind."

Anya shook her head. The fact that he knows that she doesn't drink when they've met once spoke volumes. They both ordered the creamy mushroom pasta and the faux fizz mocktail.