A few months after being on her own in a brand new city far away from the East coast, Chiara began hanging out at the local cafe, Big Al's Diner at 2124 Dorchester Road.  She was new in the city of Los Angeles, and it wasn't until the owner came round to her table one day offering her a job as a waitress that Chiara began to feel this move to the West coast was the right move for her. It wasn't the most glamorous job in the world, but hell, it was a start. 

Chiara learned quickly using her natural charm gave way to bigger tips, and at times it amused her how the male customers left pretty big tips compared to the females.  A few of the busboys and waiters there would boast about their gender saying it was because men are just better at certain things in life.  One of them joked that it was like shooting guns.  Men were just more natural shooters.

She used to be teased by some of the busboys and waiters about how much she earned, when they weren't busy trying to proposition her into sharing her tips. One day she felt a deal could be arranged when she had overheard them bragging about how they were going to be visiting a gun range they often frequented. She proposed that should they take her along and teach her about guns and how to use them, she'd cut them into a percentage of the big tips she'd earn.  The manager would shake his head before laughing and telling the guys they couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if they had both eyes open while standing ten feet away from it.  

What started out as a small interest in self defense, leaned more and more to a passion of Chiara's.  The guys often told her she looked like a natural the way she held the Colt .45 in her hands.  Off day visits throughout the month then turned into weekly visits, then almost had to stop herself from going daily.  It was like she was hooked on the feeling she got as she fired each bullet, hitting her target with such precision that had the guys from the cafe bragging on her while working.  

It was about several months later before Chiara had even realized the gentleman shadowing her at the firing range.  His intense gaze on her gave her mixed feelings, unsure whether to be creeped out, or intrigued to what he could possibly want from her.  That day he approached her slowly, and she felt her heart pounding a little faster as he reached into his jacket pocket.  Her quick glance around, and the slight tightening of her hand on the gun at her side caused the stranger to smirk before withdrawing his hand, holding a business card.

Her brown eyed gaze fell to the elegant writing on the card.  It contained an address and a time.  By the time she opened her mouth to inquire what the meaning of all this was, her eyes widened in surprise to find herself standing alone once more.  Chiara searched the area, but saw nothing of him.  Still holding the card, she traced a fingertip over the glossed symbol design.  A reticule symbol, a circle with four lines on all sides, almost a plus symbol, but not touching in the center.  If she was honest with herself, Chiara wondered what lay in store for her should she appease her curious side.  Chiara glanced around once more before tucking the card into a pocket then resuming shooting practice.

Later that evening she arrived at the address written on the business card, 538 S. Flower Street.  The California Club the sign said.  The building was a beautiful Italian Renaissance design which gave the club a secluded privacy allowing its patrons to enjoy their time spent there.  It was a massive club in size, with several sections including a tower as well.  Chiara stood there taking in the sheer size and beauty of the place for a moment before heading up to the entrance.  The man standing near the door held such a serious look on his face as she approached.  Not knowing if the club was private or not, she retrieved the business card hoping it passed for an invitation of sorts.  Receiving a nod from the man, he held the door for Chiara.

Once inside, she headed straight to the bar, glancing around the place, but not fully paying the people much attention.  When she took a seat, the bartender attended to her then set off to fetch her drink.  Upon his return, he placed the Mary Pickford on the countertop, smiled briefly, nodded to the gentleman that had just walked up beside Chiara then walked away to attend to other customers.  Her brown eyes traveled from his hand resting on the countertop up his arm then meeting his familiar gaze dead on.  He clucked his tongue then spoke in a low tone.

"You didn't even check your surroundings to catch any threats intending on doing you harm."

He sighed then paused as the bartender brought him a whiskey straight.  He took a drink then rested the bottom of the glass on the countertop, tapping a couple fingers against the glass as he kept a hold on it before speaking again.

"That is going to change if you're to work for me."

Chiara almost choked the laughter back, but the sound of a small cough escaped her throat.  Despite the noise level of the music in the club, he heard the soft laugh.

"What do ya mean work for you mister.  How do you even know I'd be interested?  I don't even know you, so what's this all about hmm?"

She swirled the straw around in the glass as the curiosity kept building up inside her.  Chiara made an attempt to hide it from her expression, but the arch of his brow and the slight smirk on his face inferred to the fact she was fooling no one but herself.  First off he introduced himself; Andrew was his name.  He then began telling her about himself, what kinda work he did all the while keeping his gaze trained on her body language and facial features to gauge how well suited she would be for his line of work.  She was raw material with a few skills granted, and her young age was a bonus due to the fact she could be trained.

Needless to say he was still impressed with how she had absorbed everything he discussed without freaking out.  He did briefly wonder what had made this young lady so emotionless.  She was just fresh out in the world and beginning to live life, experiencing all the excitement a young person can, yet the darkness lurking behind her gaze made his natural inquisitiveness flare up.  In due time he would eventually discover the reasons which made her eyes full of aloofness. 

Their conversation ensued for the better part of an hour straight, and throughout the meeting, Chiara's attention was riveted to the topics at hand.  She felt drawn to the path she was being led down, and it seemed to thaw the aloofness shell a smidgen.  Andrew noticed, albeit briefly, a flash of excitement in her brown eyes.  He knew then that he made the right decision in approaching her earlier that day.  Once the meeting was coming to a close, Chiara was given another business card with a different address location.  This one he said was to the Jardinette Apartments, where a coworker who would be showing her the ropes lived. 

"A getting started kinda guide if you will.  Emma has helped many young recruits like yourself to get on the right path to where they need to go.  Be there tomorrow at noon.  She's expecting you."

Andrew downed the last of his whiskey, placed the glass back down with a soft clink, nodded and bid Chiara a good evening.  She looked a bit overwhelmed in thoughts to any onlooker as they passed by, but Chiara was feeling, well feeling alive and driven at that moment.  She was looking forward to meeting this Emma lady.  The way Andrew had spoken of her gave Chiara a feeling in thinking at least there were people out there in the world to help others.  She recalled the first thing he said when he arrived at her side, so she began making an effort to glance around at the people milling about the club going on with their evening as she enjoyed the rest of her drink.  Her thoughts ventured off from time to time about what to expect the following day.