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On the word: COLLAR

I pull at my clothes, staring across the room. He looks over. I look down. My stomach’s in knots… it feels horrible. I hope he didn’t notice me. But then I stir up enough courage to lift my head up, and I see him heading straight for me. And I can just hardly make out the gun hidden under his shirt.
Quickly I jump up from my table, almost knocking over my glass of wine. I weave through the sea of tables, couples, and baffled waiters before I finally reach the bathroom. I glance behind me, and I see his eyes locked on mine, and his hand inching towards his weapon.
I enter the bathroom, and call out, making sure i’m alone. There’s no windows for me to make an escape. Guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way.
I go into one of the stalls and hop on top of the toilet seat. Just then, I hear the bathroom door being opened, and then the click of the lock.
“Oh hello?” he calls, and I hear the click of his shoes against the floor. Then the click of his gun. And almost making me jump, there’s a slam of a bathroom stall door, five down from me. This continues until he reaches mine.
He pushes open the door, and steps forward, his eyes glinting. I smirk and kick the door back. It slams into his nose and he falls over, dropping the gun. I walk around him as he clutches his face, and broken nose, and grab his gun. He reaches for it, but I place my high heel on his chest.
“One move, and you’re dead.” I tell him, pressing the heel down on him. He makes a sound in pain, and I back off, opening the door to the bathroom, and slamming it behind me. I hurriedly leave the restaurant, gun in hand.