As Ana spoke, the clouds outside darkened the skies, and a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the space. People on the sidewalk outdoors rushed for cover as the rain began to fall. Rain in southern California was a welcome sight in theory, but it didn't mean any of these Hollywood-types wanted water on their suede jackets or leather Birkin bags. Car accidents also tended to follow -- as if everyone forgot how to drive, when a bit of water was on the ground. Cal made a mental note to himself to be extra careful on the drive home. When the crack of thunder sounded outside, dull against the sound of the restaurant's activity, Stella whined a bit, tucking herself closer to Cal as if she could climb into his skin to hide. He reached down and stroked her head reassuringly while he listened to Ana.

"Support, eh? Well, I'm not sure if you're aware, but I'm a bit of a businessman myself. Perhaps I can help. What industry is your father in?" 

The question was genuine, and Cal wasn't bragging. Somehow, this woman didn't seem to know who he was, and he found that to be a bit of a relief. Many of the women he encountered clamored for him, money signs in their eyes. It was nice to know that perhaps this woman had no ulterior motives for meeting with him -- in fact, he got the feeling she felt nonchalant, at best, toward him.

He could work with that.

She ordered a sweet tea just as Cal had been about to suggest they get a bottle of nice wine for the table, but he hesitated. Normally, he would go all out in a situation like this -- shower the woman in luxury, compliment her, make her melt in his hands. He got the feeling that Ana wasn't going to be that easy.

She asked what it was that Cal did, and he smiled. "I'm a bit of a jack of all trades. Real estate -- mostly hotel and Senior Living properties --, a few production factories, even some agriculture, orchards and wineries and the like." He sipped from his water, waving off his own answer with a flick of his hand. "I'm not particularly passionate about any of them. I'm just glad they afford me the opportunities to try and make a difference. Like the gala last night." 

The waiter returned to take their orders, and Cal asked for a Saumon fumé, and a plate of calamari to share, nodding to Ana when she was asked for her own order. He'd normally attempt some power move of impressing whatever lady accompanied him by ordering for them, surprising them with his impeccable taste. He got the feeling that such things were unlikely to earn him any points here.

He didn't feel the need to go into his other enterprises. Not many would take too kindly to the idea of a man who held a tight grip on every drug and gun that entered the city limits. Maybe he would tell a woman, one day, maybe he'd be able to explain it -- that he'd witnessed his own parents, murdered at the hands of a man much like he himself was now. That he'd sworn from a young age he would work his way to the top of his own criminal empire, taking down every evil piece of shit that only cared for themselves -- or their bottom line -- along the way. That he was, honestly, making the world a better place in ways that transcended charity events and big checks to nonprofit organizations.

He was making LA and the surrounding area safer. By knocking off one murderous, reckless, evil scumbag at a time.