I am the daughter of a rich man, a millionaire who is well acquainted in a world of politics, and even Prime Minister himself. My mother is a woman who lives in line under my father and daren't speak in fear of what he'll do if she did - and I am the daughter they'd not expected, a paid gift from god so they say.
But I can assure you, I am not a gift to them. I am a party piece! I was only there to complete the family album and nothing more - and the money you ask? The money was never mine. He always restricted us and so it never had a chance to spoil me. It was as if I never had it at all, especially after last summer when they caught me in the closet with another woman, which was completely innocent of course, or at least it would have been had they believed me when I said it was the only place in the house without a smoke alarm! They never liked me smoking.
After that they threatened me with my inheritance which as their only child I was to receive when they die. That right was taken away from me and they asked me to leave. Only so they could hide their shameful daughter! As far as I know, everyone believes I am away on financial business. Ironic now that I am sat discussing such matters with you.
So, I moved and no longer live in England, only my strong accent gives me away to strangers. Believe it or not, it's not so bad, and honestly it's not the money I am interested in.
The blonde woman sat across from me, lets her eyes drift from mine to my lips and says nothing. She waits, she expects me to continue.
Her voice is soft and drowns me with desire, I can tell by the look in her eye that she knows it. I smile before looking left at the bar tender and raise my glass to order another drink. I look back at her to see a cigarette between her lips and then her hand slides the open box to my side of the table.
"Do you want one?" she asks and her voice makes my back arch making me just that little bit closer to her.
"No, thank you." I smile weakly, "I haven't had one in about a week now."
I am mesmerized by her every move and it takes me ten seconds or more before I respond. "It's Ok, don't stop on my behalf, I know I wouldn't!" I admit though wonder if I am too honest for our first engagement. But I am assured as her face softens and seems to tell me otherwise.
"So…" she begins but is interrupted as the waiter stands above us and fills my glass from a wine bottle. Nodding my thanks he slips away without a word. She looks cautiously at me as she leans in again, "Just how much is this inheritance of yours worth?"
My back straightens and I shy away. I was enjoying the flow of conversation and for a moment I lost myself, maybe she was only after one thing? Yes of course, the money! I casually check around us and then move forward until our lips are only inches apart, "Millions!" I whisper.
A spark fly's through her eyes, "Millions" she repeats with a sense of satisfaction and once again leans back in her seat. "So, you hire me and bang, bang! You get your money, your three story mansion and more importantly you get to step out of the closet!" she lays the plan out for me and it's as simple as it sounds.
"Yes, well…" she watches my face for a reaction; she senses a gun to be a bad idea. "We have yet to discuss how, don't we?" she finishes.
"And I never said I was in the closet!" I defend though I know to well I have been flirting with her.
I sit there stifled by it and try to remember if and when I'd said that. She was right, I had. Remembering I smile "Right!" and sip my drink which had been sat untouched till now.
"Would it be too soon to suggest heading back to yours, to err, discuss this more?"
We had taken a taxi and sat side by side in the back where her knee casually rubbed against mine every time the car took a turn. We sat in silence; apart from answering the driver when he asked "Good night ladies?"
"It's only just beginning" she'd told him in that sultry voice.
My hand being sweaty, slides on the door handle as I turn it but soon enough the door opens and I politely allow her to enter first. As she moves in front of me I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, I am nervous and I'm sure that she knows it. I light the room with a few lamps here and there and head for the kitchen.
I step reach for the top shelf and my eye catches the piece of paper stuck on the fridge by a fridge magnet. It's her number and written below it, her alias Coco. It had taken me weeks to pick up the courage to contact her, but the moment I heard her voice I was glad I had. Looking at her now as she relaxes on my sofa, I am even tenser than before!
"No." she say's simply.
I am tempted to ask more but I keep quiet - she is an assassin after all! The image of her holding a gun in her hand runs through my mind and quickly I shake it off! It does nothing for my nerves. I keep my eye on her as she takes a seat on the sofa. I reach into the cupboard, my fingers lingering on the neck of the Gin bottle which seems ideal!
"Is this OK?" I call out; show her the bottle when our eyes meet.
She smiles "Perfect!" she turns away and begins to take her jacket black leather off, revealing a tight black shirt underneath.
"Shit!" I curse and immediately blush as she looks over to see what has happened.
"You need a hand with that?"
Before I can answer she stands and heads toward me with a sensual swagger, a walk that can only be described as foreplay.
"Give me your hands" she asks reaching out to take them.
I hesitate but let go of the cloth and place my wet hands in hers. She looks at them and for a moment say's nothing. Then her fingers began to gently massage mine. It's a strange feeling, knowing this woman could be so gentle yet, not so much.
"Just relax, we don't have to talk about it just yet." her voice settles me, her eye's all the time looking down. "You're allowed to be anxious, concerned and frightened… excited even!"
She notices the change in me and raises her eyebrow "Ok?" to which I nod and then gently pull them back to finish getting her a drink.
"Blackwood's Vintage Gin" she say's with her head tilted to one side so she can read the bottle.
"It's not available here, only in Scotland" I pass her the glass, our fingers touching just slightly "My father always took regular trips and brought it back with him."
I watch her as she sips the beverage and lets it wash in her mouth before swallowing, finally giving a nod in approval.
"It was my father's favourite. He'd hide it in the bedroom cabinet and have a shot or two when my mother wasn't looking. When I was a child he'd threaten me into not telling her" I pick up my glass and take the drink in one go, placing the empty glass down with a heavy hand.
"This was his bottle!" I smirk; firing something in her she places her glass to her lips and lifts it, swallowing it as I had done in one shot.
"Nice!" she breathes huskily from her throat where the liquor burnt. "At least he has good taste, if anything" she pushes her glass toward me.
"I'm not sure his tailor would agree with that statement" I said filling each glass again and then I drank it as fast as the first, placing the glass aside. "I have to show you what I mean!" I tell her and with the bottle in my hand head toward my bedroom.
I hear her empty glass hit the side and look back to see her following me, just as I'd expected. I wait and when she enters I hold out a photo frame to her "That's him on the left is the dashing suit, my mother on the right."
She takes the frame and turns it into the light from the other room, my bedroom light not on. She looks up "You're missing from the family photo!" She say's passing it back and looks around my room.
"You can keep this one, for future reference" I tell her and begin taking the picture out. I look up to pass her the picture to find her gone.
"Boo" she whispers into my ear from behind me "Don't move!" she tells me with one hand on my elbow.
My muscles tense as her hand slides slowly down my back to rest on my backside, and as her hand begins fondling it I close my eyes and bite my lip to contain from speaking. Just as I relax into her she pulls away making me flinch. I turn to see her silhouette by the window and the orange glow of cigarette between her lips. She'd managed to remove the packet from my back pocket without me noticing; she is good!
I perch on the windowsill and began to smoke "Coco, do you tease all your clients like this?" I ask between puffs.