Oh damn, already?

She rolled in the heavenly duvet and hoped she still had a couple of days ahead of this room service, roof top swimming pool and sun tanning on her private terrace. The luxurious penthouse felt like home, though she wasn’t the home sweet home kind of girl.

But the message on her cell phone’s screen was clear.

She stretched like a cat in the snow-white linnen, and grabbed the binoculars on the bedside table. Working on the focus, while she dreamed of a bowl of fresh fruit and a mug of strong black coffee, she played ”Where’s Waldo?”,  but she was used to it, now.

There you are, Sweetheart!

He was so predictable… She knew that when he went wandering around the rose garden, it was just the premise of a Tom peeping episode. She still had a couple of minutes to waste before he would be laying down on his transat.

She poured herself a tall glass of fresh orange juice, and lit a cigarette, scrolling her Twitter account, waiting for him to call the shot.

She didn’t have to wait for long, but she never had to.

Quiet morning, the view could be better.

She extinguished her smoke in the ashtray and put on her Louboutin high heels. Just for the heck of it. Walking her way to the terrace, wearing only her smile (and her stilettos), she brought the binoculars to her eyes just to make sure he was watching.

Of course he was. As usual.

It had taken weeks to work on his weak spot. But she was young, pretty and bold.  And a little greedy, maybe.

Oh, and fuckin’ good with guns.

***

She wondered, as she packed up her stuff, how he had felt the second before the bullet hit him…

Via Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge