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He smiles a relaxed smile and says, “Not at all. We’ll go at your pace.”
The car winds its way through the San Francisco hills until we arrive at the renowned Asian fusion restaurant –Celestial Wok.
I know things are fancy because there’s a valet service, and I’ve never been to a restaurant with such luxury.
“I wonder what’s inside…” I muse as we stroll away from the car.
“It’s a regular restaurant, except portions are smaller and more expensive,” Alex jokes.
“I’m not entirely comfortable being here…” I admit.
I feel shivers go down my spine as he gently reaches for my hand, guiding me inside.
“You deserve nice things, Liv.” He kisses my temple and turns ahead to face the hostess.
“Winters, 6 PM,” Alex informs the woman, who looks at the list of reservations and just shakes her head.
The woman flips a paper sheet, then another, then several. “Ah, here it is!” she says, pointing a finger to the names on the paper. “Your reservation is for next week, Mr. Winters.”
Alex frowns, and I realize that very same moment that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him upset.
“Do you have a free table now?” he asks in between clenched teeth.
All I can do is hold onto his arm and wait for the debacle to be over. I’m a fish out of water here, and there’s nothing I can do to help that’s not going to get in the way.
“Not until 9 PM, sir. I’m truly sorry. The receptionist must have misheard you.”
“Alex, it’s okay,” I tell him gently, rubbing his shoulder. “I’d be much more at ease in a dive bar in Chinatown.”
Alex raises an eyebrow at me, the hint of a smile showing on his lips. “Are you sure?”
I nod with enthusiasm. “We can always come back here another time.”
He sighs, but then nods as well, accepting our makeshift fate.
“Alright, let’s go!” He wraps his arm around mine extra tight, and off we go.
He calls my bluff, and a few minutes later we’re in the tourist part of Chinatown. “There’s a bar with a red door around here, take the next left!” I say, enthused.
“Does this bar have a name?” Alex says, fumbling with the GPS.
“The neon sign is in Chinese,” I shrug. “But you are going to like it!”
In no time, we arrive. The Red Door Bar is one of the first ones Bella and I visited when we moved here, and the tacky ambiance is one of the highlights.
The place is decorated with red curtains, lanterns, and plastic plants. We just go in and find a table on our own, and a rude waitress leaves menus on our table and completely forgets to take our drink order.
“Are you sure about this place?” Alex asks me, pointing a thumb toward the waitress who just left.
“The food is great, trust me!” I say, opening the menu. “Plus, look!”
I point a finger to the air as the first squeaky voice starts to perform karaoke. It’s an elderly lady performing a very unique rendition of a classic rock song, and in my opinion, it only adds to the experience.
The menu is entirely in Chinese, but there are pictures. “Any problem with seafood?” I ask him from behind the booklet.
“No,” he says, looking at the menu, utterly confused.
“There’s a giant plate of mixed seafood for two that’s worth every penny,” I say. “Here!”
