The third point of view
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Emily in the guise of apologizing as Ahmed wiped himself, slipped a substance into his drink and hers.
Then she picked a tablecloth and wanted to aid him in the cleaning which he turned down politely.
"No, I'm good," He put up his hand. Fortunately, it was not an oily dish so he was saved from soiling his shirt.
"I'm so so sorry, I just wanted to-"
"Don't worry, it's alright," Ahmed promised her. A waiter came over and helped with the mess while he reordered.
Emily glanced uneasily over her shoulder, scanning to see if anyone had seen her slip anything into his drink and was giving her odd looks or thinking of calling the police.
But so far, no one was staring her way, everyone was minding their businesses- to her relief. Though she was fast and swift, there was no assurance one hadn't seen her.
