Fin grinned. She was no doubt about to drop a week's salary at least on this dinner, but it was completely worth it. "I'll have the chocolate soufflè, please. And a coffee as well. With a shot of espresso, if you have it." 

She winked at Dom knowing that it was another 'bold' order... but he didn't seem to mind. And, after all, she didn't get to enjoy herself much. She wanted to make the most of it before it faded away. Because she knew that soon enough it would effervesce into late-night tremors and night terrors. 

"I think we start small. The Loft, restaraunt, gelato, and maybe a flat or apartments or something for our people. That'll give us enough time to brainstorm the rest into really workable plans. As far as food, we could easily do a really upscale Italian place. It's easy to make classy." 

Dominique nodded. "That sounds like a good plan to me. Upscale Italian. I can grow the vegetables fresh on the roof. Hell, maybe we even make a garden for the locals. Take what you need type thing. I know not everyone can afford to eat great, but fuck it. I got enough to spare some vegetables and herbs. At least they can eat fresh for next to nothin'. We need to find someone local that churns their own cheese. There used to be a damned cheese factory here somewhere. They ran business outta this district too..."

He scratched his head and sighed. "I bet there's someone who makes their own in the city. We can get it locally processed and then we're set. Local meats too. We help the farmers in the area, we get a good name behind us."

Dom drummed his fingers on the table lightly while thinking. "Ya know, mia madre's famiglia? Bellucci. We could call it Bellucci's, or Coniglio's... I'm not sure which sounds better. I mean, the area and the night club is already named after her... Maybe I pay tribute to my family? Or maybe Romano's? Or something else entirely... Maybe 'Il Fresco Siciliano'?"

Dominique sighed. "I need better names." He chuckled softly.

Fin chuckled lightly, "Let's NOT call it Coniglios. Donnae need people thinkin' we're servin' hoppers... nae that it would be a BAD idea, per se. Just maybe nae tha reputation we wanna set." Thinking for a moment, she pursed her lips as she mused, "Maybe Giovanni's?" Her head tilted up a bit as she eyed him, "Is there a meaningful difference between Sicily an' Tuscany? From... ah... come si dice... ' prospettiva Irlandese'? Yeah?" She chuckled lightly, trying to stretch her learning, "From me Irish perspective 'La Toscana' sounds very pretty, but god forbid I go steppin' in some intraracial tension or some shite." 

"Soprafina is pretty, too," she rambled off, wracking her brain, "Or tie it to the neighbourhood somehow... street number or zip or something. The 101 or somethin'. Or ye could always go blending names... iffin ye wanna step on some toes. Americalia, Iretalia... that sorta thing." 

She stuck her tongue out playfully, crossing her eyes as an acknowledgement of her own silliness.

Dominique smirked.

"No Sicilian really likes sayin' they are anything -but- Sicilian. It's like a gold badge of honor on top of bein' Italian." He chuckled. "But, if we're honest... I was born here in America. Because both of my birth parents are full blooded Sicilian, I'm Sicilian... But, I don't really have any partiality one way or another. I'm American, ya know? My blood is old blood, but I ain't from there. Never even been. Sure, my pops visited there a few times, and his madre e padre are -from- there... But me? Nah." He chuckled.

"Basically, I'm sayin' I don't give a fuck if we piss some old blood off. My bloods pure as their's and most of them see me different, so fuck'em." He grinned and leaned back. "Giovanni's though. I could get behind that. La Toscana just means Tuscany... That would be strange to call a restaurant that I think. Maybe Ristorante della Toscana, or Ristorante Siciliano if I'm true to blood... Since that's how I cook." He chuckled.

"Oh, maybe sapore instead of ristorante... Sapore di Siciliano. Taste of Sicily." He shrugged. "Hmm. No. Giovanni's feels right. Giovanni's Sapore di Siciliano?" he questioned as he looked up in thought, then shook his head. "Nah... Just Giovanni's. It's easy, it's simple. It gets tha fuckin' point across." He snickered as he looked at Finleigh.

"You know, this has been the best night since our exodus to L.A. At least the best night since I've come home..."

Dominique smiled genuinely as he watched Finleigh for a short moment, until his eyes averted to the oncoming waiter. "Ah, dessert arrives."

Dom rubbed his hands together as he sat up straight in his seat. "Coffee and tiramisu. Can't go wrong, ya know?" The waiter nodded in agreement as he dropped off the two coffees, the coffee cake, and the chocolate soufflè.

"Bon appétit!" the waiter announced with a smile as Dominique slowly turned with his eyebrow lifted.

"What?"

"Ummm... Sorry, I heard you speaking other languages. I'm assuming it wasn't French, but it's the only other language I speak." For the first time, they saw the waiter sweat a bit...

"Buon appetito. Italiano." Dom smiled, then reached out and placed a comforting hand on the man's arm. "Ça va, je parle aussi le français."

The waiter chuckled nervously, and Dom smiled. "No worries my friend. I liked the enthusiasm." Pulling back, he reached into his jacket and handed the man a card with his name and number. "Call me. If you're interested in treating guests as well as you've treated us, I might have a position for you as head of staff. I'm looking to open an Italian restaurant. I'll teach you what you need to know. Romance languages. You should learn fairly easily." Dom nodded at the man as he slowly took the card.

"Yes sir! Thank you sir... I'll certainly call! Enjoy your desserts!"

"And we will!" Dom called after him as he hurried away.

"Too soon?" he questioned as he looked at Fin.

Fin shook her head emphatically, cheeks already puffed with an overly enthusiastic bite of soufflè. Gulping, she giggled and dug in for another bite before settling into a slower pace that would allow her to converse further. 

"I agree. It's tha best since... well... since long before I left home, I suppose," she admitted with a sad half-smile. "Also, that's TWO of our establishment's that I have named now," she teased him, "Yer falling behind, mio." 

Smirking, she slowly licked the chocolate cream from the back of her spoon; grinning like the cheshire cat as she savoured the sweet treat. Sipping her coffee, she slowed her dessert to an excruciatingly slow pace in a conscious attempt to make the night last longer. She was no where near ready to relinquish her vice-grip on the little glimmer of peace she'd found. 

Dominique, on the other hand, scarfed his tiramisu down and was leaning back to sip on his coffee... He could certainly use a cigarette, but he wasn't about to light one while she ate. Watching her, he smiled.

"So I'm falling behind. The best business men delegate things to those who are better than them anyway. You're better with names obviously." He winked with a grin.

"Anyway... Now for a hotel... If we have The Raven Loft and Giovanni's in Ravenwood, what should we call the hotel? Piazza del Corvo?"

He snickered softly before taking a swallow of coffee.

Fin was johnny on the spot. "Actually, I was thinkin' 'Ravenwood Manor'," she chuckled lightly. "Or somethin' like that... Ravenwood Plaza... Suites... Tower... Resort... Lodge... Ravenhearth... The Roost... The Rookery... all good ideas. Take yer pick." 

Reluctantly, she finished the last of her soufflè giving him a sad little nod. 

"Ravenwood Suites or Ravenwood Resort... Either of those could work. Maybe Ravenhearth... That's pretty. Ravenwood Plaza though, that sounds like a shopping center." Dominique nodded as she finished her soufflè and waved to the ever vigilant waiter who rushed over.

"Yes sir?"

"Check, please."

"Yes sir, right away, sir."

The young man rushed off and returned momentarily with the bill and slid it across to Dominique.

"Thank you." Dom removed his money clip and placed three, crisp bills inside the presenter and handed it to him.

"Consider the change incentive for when we talk."

The man, wide-eyed, nodded and took the presenter. "Thank you, sir."

"Mhmm, enjoy the rest of your shift young man."

Dominique pushed his chair back and stood as the waiter shuffled off both excitedly and nervously. Moving around to the other side of the table, Dom pulled out Fin's chair and offered his hand to help her up, then led her outside. As soon as they excited, Johnson flashed the lights on the car to let them know he was there and pulled the vehicle over to them. Dom waved him off as he led Fin through the parking lot and to the sidewalk near the road. Johnson followed slowly behind them to illuminate their path.

"Finleigh, I've had an incredible time with you tonight so far. What would you like to do now?"

He pulled a cigarette case out, offering her one, then lighting one for himself.

"The night is young. We can either go out for drinks, go and play some games at one of the local casino rackets, or we can turn in at my place. Or, of course, you're always welcome to leave me for the night if you'd like to actually get some sleep before the morning."

He grinned as they walked, her arm securely tucked into his.

Fin happily took a cigarette. Waiting patiently for the lighter, she confessed, "I'm nae one fer gambling... sour memories, ye ken? But, honestly, I'm jest enjoying yer company. What I'd like most is ta see some o' yer home through yer eyes... see tha city like you see it. But... any time I get ta spend with ye will make me quite content." Chuckling softly, she blushed as she tucked herself a little closer to him and sheepishly admitted, "I've no interest in sleep at tha moment. But if yer ready ta call it a night, I would nae mind turnin' in ta yer place... if ye want..."

She was quiet for a long moment, simply walking along enjoying her cigarette. Everything in her was on edge; screaming at her vulnerability. But... for the first time in a long time she felt truly ALIVE, and there was NOTHING... not shellshock, not shame, nor fear or vulnerability... that would keep her from LIVING this moment wholly IN the moment.  So, with a hopeful smile, she looked up at him through the sultry noir haze of her warm breath lingering heavily on the chilled evening air; blue eyes sparklingly expectant as she awaited the rest of their evening.

Without hesitation, Dominique waved Johnson up to the curb and opened the door to the vehicle. Escorting Finleigh inside, he followed. "Take us around the city, Johnson. Out to Venice Beach, and even to Hollywood so our dear Fin can see where screen magic is made." He grinned...

"And then take us to my house, and Johnson?"

"Hmm?"

"Do make yourself scarce once we're home, capisce?"

Chuckling, Johnson nodded, "Aye, I most certainly will."

Shutting the car door, Dominique slipped his arm comfortably around Finleigh and pulled her in close. Cracking his window, he exhaled a plume of smoke out of the vehicle as Johnson pulled away.

"Venice beach is a lovely place. I'll let you go and see all of the lights from the pier tonight. But, you really need to see it in the daylight. It's a wonder to behold, a glorious sight. Hollywood, on the other hand, never sleeps I swear it. There's -always- something going on with the stars and movie production. Always filming for some movie or another. After that, we'll retire to my home and enjoy an evening of drink, cigar, and dancing throughout the night. You've heard of the horizontal cha-cha, yes?"

He winked playfully at Finleigh, before chuckling. "If not, I'll teach you."

Fin nearly choked on her puff of smoke, rolling her eyes at Dom's goofy half come-on. Shaking her head, she took a long drag before leaning up and whispering softly to Johnson, "Make sure ta drive us up ta tha Hollywoodland sign." 

Snuggling close to Dom, she simply shook her head and settled in for the drive.