The Blue Swimming Pool

She was the type of girl who wanted to live in a pink house. Not just a pink house, but a pink house surrounded by pink flamingoes, with a pink swimming pool, and with a view of pink sunsets every evening. It was every little girl's dream, wasn’t it?

It took a lot of work, but she achieved her dreams. Well, all except the swimming pool. But that would happen in due course. She sipped her pink gin and watched the newly imported flamingoes as they settled into their new habitat. The purpose-built lagoon that she commissioned at the back of the house.

Life was as pink as she’d ever dreamt and although she was the type of girl that always wanted to live in a pink house, the methods she used to achieve her dreams were not as most people would expect of a girl with such feminine aspirations.

She had not only survived in a man’s world, she had taken it by storm. She fought tooth and nail, crushing opponents and ruthlessly stamping her authority on the business.

She turned her attention away from the flamingoes and towards the beachfront and the ocean beyond it. The sun lay low in the sky, the first pastel shades promising a spectacular sunset. She smiled as she took another sip from her pink gin, it was perfect everything was perfect. Another perfect Florida sunset would blaze the ocean in a wondrous display of her favourite colour.

It had been worth it. All the hard work and years of toil had paid off, she was at the top of the tree, and nothing could stop her. Of course, she had made enemies along the way, and many of them still bore grudges. Well, those that still could at least.

It wasn’t a business with room for sentimentality, and enemies bearing grudges were par for the course. It was all just part of the game. And my God could she play! She threw the rest of the drink back in one swift gulp and laughed out loud, alcohol and power were the headiest of mixes and she was Queen of the fucking world.

The day was slipping into the evening, the sky growing ever pinker. She watched two of her guards walking along the beach. They were the crème-de-la-crème, all ex-special forces and highly motivated by fat pay cheques. Money well spent and it was the tiniest fraction of her takings from the cocaine business.

She stared at her empty glass. Where was Mitchell? Mitchell had the demeanour of a butler but had the added attraction of a long and distinguished career in the Israeli Special Forces. Mitchell never let her glass stay empty this long, but he was nowhere to be seen.
She was getting angry, nobody was indispensable and Mitchell had better realise that. She shouted his name, the two guards turned and looked her way, but she let them know in no uncertain terms to mind their own fucking business.

She stood up and stomped towards the house, stopping at the swimming pool. The non-pink swimming pool. The blue swimming pool that the builder completely screwed up, the useless ass. He was just lucky to escape with his life!

But, it would be quickly fixed or the builder may yet find himself feeding the sharks of the Florida Keys.

“Miss!”

The voice was from behind her, it was Mitchell, sneaking back and hoping that she hadn’t noticed. She spun around, her face was pink with rage, that fucker had better not…
…be holding an Uzi submachine gun. “Mitchell, what the fuck is going on?”

“Everyone’s got a price miss.” There was no James Bond moment while the justification for the crime was explained. There was no waiting around while he explained what a bitch she had been. There were no second chances.

Mitchell simply pulled the trigger and the first lady of the Miami coke trade was dead. She was dead before she hit the surface of the pool, she never got the chance to see her swimming pool slowly turn a glorious shade of pink.

Word Count 686