The blazing sun shone down as a black Mercedes pulled in reverse and carefully parked in the empty parking lot. The driver killed the engine before opening the door and stepping out of the luxury vehicle. It was Fiona. As always, Fiona looked beautiful. She had on a scarf and sun shades to avoid being recognized. Raising her hand and checking the time, she noticed she was over fifteen minutes late for her shoot but she was barely worried. Fiona was on a mission. She had to get something done immediately and done fast. Turning away, her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked into the private restaurant. Stepping inside, she approached the counter, “I have a reservation,” Fiona said to the restaurant employee. The woman turned to Fiona and flashed a small smile, “Welcome. Name please,” she said. “Fiona Cross,” Fiona responded. The lady typed into her computer, then turned back to Fiona, handing her a card. “Seat 4A. I’ll show you to your table,” the cashier said, "
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