“Tequila Sunrise, two cherries, please.”

I love to start my night with my favorite drink. It is a ritual for me. Well, that and purchasing a new tube Sange Rouge.

I am an entrepreneur of sorts. They say turn what you love into a career and it will never feel like work. The jobs come in steadily, my clients tend to be vexed lovers, zealous executives, and emerging politicians.

There goes my date now, right on time. The least I can do is turn the night into an experience. His profile said he likes redheads, of course he does.

They love to feel special; we will do a little dancing, have a few laughs, and I’ll take him back to my room when I’ve had enough.

“You’re too beautiful, how did we ever match?” His speech begins to slur.

“When two souls want each other, they always find a way.” I flash him a wink and a coy smile.

“I am a lucky man!” His ego successfully stroked, he places a hand on my thigh. They always fall for that line.

I give him a small kiss. Lipstick stain behind the left earlobe, that’s my signature. Men never expect a female “hitman”.

Sigh.

“Too bad, you’re cute. Your wife sends her regards.”

I remove my pistol from my garter holster, I love the way it forms to my hand. He blinks in quick succession, trying to comprehend if this is real or not.

With a pull of the trigger, his body falls against the satin pillow.

I remove the wig and wipe off my gun. The night ends with one text.

“It’s done.”

Inspired by an original 25-Word Story tweet.