"Done," Layla said, paying the bartender. She was immensely grateful to Francis, that wasn't a lie, and when she paid for his beer, she ordered one for herself. She looked at him closer now, not bothering to hide her interest: the one thing someone could never accuse Layla of was being secretive, because she did not have a single subtle bone in her body.
But this guy looked quite familiar. "Do I know you or something?" Layla asked suspiciously to the stranger she found herself strangely indebted to. "By the way, thanks for playing along with that. Guy was a total creeper. Ewww." She wrinkled her nose and took another long draw from her beer. "I didn't know how else to get him off of me without being a total bitch about it. Like, 'yo, get out of my face! SO NOT INTERESTED.'"