We turned right on Hollywood Boulevard and headed east, crawling along from light to light. It was the sort of traffic that would have made me chew the dashboard in frustration, but Luke threaded his way through the packed cars with ease. Finally, he turned down a side street and parked in a pay lot.
As I followed him back out to Hollywood Boulevard, I realized what our destination was. I’d never eaten there before, but Musso & Frank’s Grill was a landmark, a restaurant that had been in the same location for more than a hundred years.
“You sure do know how to pick them,” I commented as he held the door open for me and I went on into the building, which was clubby and dark. I felt as if I’d stepped back in time to the 1950s.
He smiled. “Let’s just say that I do enjoy the finer things of
