Coup de Foudre

He graciously escorted her inside the GRAND hotel and into the crowded restaurant, immediately seating her down at their table.
Daphne was quiet and reserved, she was nervous for what may come of this impulsive spontaneity to be here, with him.
She was intently focusing in on her surroundings.

There was something about the lighting, the artwork, the dark oak finishes, the velvet chairs, the aged wine, the fine china, the crisp linens and his burning radiating passion he exuded that was overwhelming to her, and it could not be replicated. There was an aura to him, and to this night they were sharing tonight.
Cartier, Coco Chanel, Caviar; all igniting, all exciting. COUP DE FOUDRE.
Only in Los Angeles.
It was in that moment, that space and that time, where she knew could not be recreated by anyone.
This electricity could not be duplicated, manipulated or exploited.
Modern Culture, technology, capitalism or mechanical reproduction had no way to tamper with this relationship they were creating.
An everlasting moment.
J'adore forevermore. 

He handed Daphne an envelope.
Enclosed was a postcard of a map, directing her where to meet him tomorrow.
She would have to find him tomorrow.