The concert had been a success but when Stella took her bow after the Alkan part she noticed the slightly shell shocked expressions of some of the patrons. She smiled to herself, Alkan had been a little daring, fine, but she had agreed with the director that it was time to expose the patrons to more than the usual fare of Beethoven, Mozart, etc. She was glad the woman shared her dislike for Tchaikovsky, and had been working on getting her to recommend some Prokofiev.<br/><br/>The applause after the last note of Brahms had been long and enthusiastic and a lively buzz of voices was heard when the lights came on and people slowly began to file out.<br/><br/>"Meet me at the Southwest exit" she had texted Anton,  and hurried there to meet him. Her eyes narrowed a little at the 'plus one' in the form of a very pretty woman in a  rather  daring dress in which she looked gorgeous. But then she wasn't exactly looking like a slouch either. She had traded her flats for a pair of heels to kill for and which would, no doubt, kill her feet by the end of the evening.<br/><br/>Stella shook hands with the delicate looking Chloe and thanked them both for coming once introductions had been made. A short discussion came up on where to go for dinner and she suggested a sushi place about a four block walk from where they were. At Chloe's somewhat dismayed expression and dubious look at her footwear Stella explained.<br/><br/>"Chloe, your expression is exactly the reason why it's a good choice. There are several hundreds of hungry and thirsty concert goers crowding  into all the nearby restaurants, trust me I know." I think we have the same shoe size, we'll cheat. Be right back."<br/><br/>Stella hurried back to her locker and pulled out two sets of ballet flats, and returned to Anton and Chloe who looked quizical to say the least. She felt compelled to explain.<br/><br/>"I work across the street from the sushi restaurant, and often go here after practice. I need to wear heels there but I'm not going to kill myself trying to walk there in heels. So I cheat. I wear these flats, to walk there and change into heels once I'm there." She grinned mischievously at Anton, "of course we could totter there in heels and hang on to his arms for dear life."<br/><br/>Stella had chosen the restaurant because she always ate sushi after a concert, it was one of her good luck traditions, and she suspected that Anton would love the hibachi grill there. The chef whose real name was Elton, but who used the stage name Hirotoki along with a put on accent would be sure to delight Anton and Chloe with a show.<br/><br/>After a leisurely walk they arrived at the restaurants and Chloe and Stella, giggling like school girls, switched into the heels the had tried to carry as nonchalant as possible, and declared themselves ready to eat. Stella was starving, she didn't know if they were as well, but had to assume they would be hungry too. They had walked on either side of Anton, and more than one guy had looked at them enviously and one guy even commented. Stella realized she liked Chloe a lot better than the Mag, and listened to Chloe's tale of woe. She approved of Anton taking her and distracting her with the concert.<br/><br/>Elton put on a show and delighted them with his antics and accent. He eventually came clean to Chloe, "Well, you know, everyone wants the Miyagi accent but man, I was born in Des Moines Iowa and we only visited my grandparents once a year in Hawaii. Besides even the grandparents barely had an accent, not really, you know." He threw a cleaver into the air and caught it without looking and proceeded to chop up some herbs which he pushed to the side before turning a carrot into toothpick sized slivers. "So a guy's gotta do what a guy gotta do." He brightened up though and said "but I do speak Japanese pretty well, my grandparents insisted that I learn. There was this guy running a fish store on Tremont and my mother paid him to teach him and my two sisters Japanese."<br/><br/>Stella  laughed, she had met one of his sisters once, a tiny spitfire of a woman with a sleek black bob and mouth like a sailor. "How is Emily, anyway." she asked greedily polishing off her bowl of Kani salad. She looked at Anton and blushed a little, "I am really hungry, ok.?" she said and grinned. The man had watched her plow through duck confit, his nuclear steak, and a pile of his breakfast rice, he knew she could eat like draft horse when she was hungry.