Sipping back some wine, she vaguely heard what her companions where ramming about. Maybe more stuff about money and such. A touch on her arm made her look away from fidgeting with the table’s cloth.
“You okay, hon?” One of the females in the table asked her. Her skin tone barely visible from all the makeup she wore on her face. That and her wild blond hair that was cut short, close to her nape.
Layla smiled tightly and said an “I’m fine”, though the woman didn’t look convinced. She didn’t press further and went back into the conversation.
Well wasn’t that easy.
Looking for her purse, she extracted a compact mirror and re-checked her appearance for the fifth time in the night. Still looking decent and no smudged makeup, she put the mirror away; trying to follow in on the conversation. Her companions, people from her office, had invited her to dinner and also because they wanted to throw her welcome into their work place. Not wanting to look bad, she agreed.
The young woman sighed. This wasn’t what she usually did on her free time, never being someone that enjoyed the social and extravagant life most adults under forty years of age had these days. Tonight she was eating in a high class restaurant, the food and décor as elegant and rich as the people inside it. Her associates we’re loud and laughed a lot, making inner jokes and laughing at people from their office. Already feeling tired of their bickering, she was about to excuse herself when a woman screamed; followed by the sound of bullet shots.
Chaos.