The water rippled rainbows and stars off the surface that reflected from the stone floor surrounding the pool. The glass balcony gave an illusion of water suspended in the sky, littered with people that shone as bright and colorful as the stars providing backdrop. Bella had a green dress on so thin she could have just worn nothing, but it gave her figure character. A queen with it, a goddess without. The cigar lit to compliment her smoky eyes and drew stress and regret on the blackness beyond. The stars played connect the dots with it, encouragement for imagination, hers wild with whites and beaten from blues. Soaked in gin, her heart was cold, calcified from neglect, a shell of frozen ash. The wind shifted around her hips and whistled through her soft red hair. A tingle in the back of her neck told her someone was there, eyes stuck, thoughts thirsty. Straight down 103 stories , it threw her off balance and gave her deep appreciation for the rail that kept her from bursting into liquid , pieces of bone flying off like shrapnel shoved through the bride and groom below, kebabs of livers and ribs. If it had to be anyone, she would love it to be them. Tourists were the worst. She came a long way since then. Long nights in strangers limo’s , barely conscious. Entire weeks faded from memory like an old photograph. The days came slow , the nights didn’t exist. It took her two years to find him. Two long years, lost. He came into her life and it was all over, there and then. He said the same thing then, in that dusty wine cellar, as he did now, in the highest heavens of Manhattan.
“We gotta stop meeting like this.”
The voice gave a hot shotgun blast to the gut and sent chills through every nerve in her body. The heart was still.
His rough hands slid down her side to rest at the waist while the cigar tip traced the movements and highlighted the finer proportions of her body in its warm glow. He pulled her close, his round belly squished against her side, and she heard the sloshes of elegant champagnes and lobsters inside. His breathe was thick with Rum and tobacco, teeth all fake but still stained almost transparent. His bushy caterpillar mustache had cocaine crumbs and muffin jelly in it, and his round bulb nose was a bright red with dried snot edging the nostrils. Blue eyes low, short white hair a mess, this was the man. All 5’4″ of him and the tiny legs barely able to support the stomach above.
“It would have been better if you stayed home, my Bell.”
“Would you have come? Surely you know by now.”
“I do, but is this the only reason you came?”
“You know why.”
He took a deep drag of the cigar and let the smoke soak into the gums. A long look at her and he was back at square one. He knew better than to spend too much time with her. It was death. She took his mind and bent his heart. There was no control, and he needed his sanity to maintain his position in society. She just wasn’t worth it, no matter how enchanted the experience. It was enough to have her for the jobs. That would at least keep his mind focused on business when it tried to stray.
“Who was it?”
“He’s inside right now. Eating your fucking shrimps and drinking your whiskeys like a savage. Stalking your wife and haunting your home. I don’t want to do it. Tell me not to do it.”
“It’s already done, Bella. It would be better on both of us anyway. We can’t keep this suffering up. It’s senseless.”
“We can always just…”
“You know we can’t. This isn’t a love story, it’s a story of love.”
Of course he was right. Bella could never argue with him, even when he was wrong. He wasn’t though, not now, not ever. His glow was still magic and held her to him, their bodies like magnets. She knew what had to be done, but hated herself for doing it, hated the universe for it being her. The balcony started to clear, a timer on their love, a limit on their existence. When the last person had left the poolside, she would have to throw him off. The 50,000 USD was already in her account and the contract stained with her signature. He had to go. She was too much for him to control alone and the agency thought it safer to eliminate him. He had unpredictable behaviors and choices. With him gone, she would simply remain an employee of the industry as if nothing at all happened. Just another job from another stranger. Another deposit in her bank and another identity. Another war and another revolution. It wasn’t her job to attach personal values. She shifted through with only one anchor in life. The man she was here to kill. Her boss. Her mentor. Her lover. Her savior. Her world.
The last woman stepped from the balcony and the rail quivered in her hand, fighting to be let go of her grip. He smiled
“Guess this is it. Wanna hurry it up? I have someone to meet. Long as she doesn’t get nervous and stand me up again.”
Bella laughed with tears in her eyes and reached to hold him one last time.
“I won’t be late. I promise.”
“Goodnight, Bella.”
She grabbed the wrist around her waist and went under the arm to pin the fat stomach on the rail and almost shook it straight off the building. Her left arm came up around his neck while the other came back up along the top to twist it off. The sick crackle made her lose concentration for a fraction of a second before being drawn back into solidarity with the job. She gave a light shove and the rag doll body dropped to the concrete below, just to the right of the newlywed couple with the picture moments in front of the building. A photobomb for the history books. A long pull from her cigar with a deep organization of her thoughts, and Bella walked back into the party to finish the job.