Bitch

Peter looked around the poster strewn walls of the Old West café.  It was fairly busy and far too noisy.  His eyes fixed on a woman with blond hair; she was shouting abuse at the waitress who looked frightened and about to cry.
     'Next time, you silly girl, bring me what I ask for, not what you think I want.'
Peter felt sorry for the girl, as she rushed off back to the kitchen.
     Kelly Strong was a hard woman to please.  She didn’t want to be in this common tourist laden hole.  She wanted to be back in the studio where she could have her tantrums and order all the photographers around.  That pleasure made getting up in the morning worthwhile.  Instead she was stuck here, playing the good mother and taking in the sights at Florida’s’ most prestigious landmarks with her nuisance of a daughter.  Where was that child, she had been gone for ages.
      She looked down at her near perfect figure. Of course it wasn't really her child. The girl was only adopted. Kelly remembered with venom how it was probably the only publicity stunt that she had regretted almost as soon as it was made public.  Now she longed to be back in her penthouse in London, where she could sit on the balcony and throw chewing gum over the edge.  She smiled as she tried to imagine where it would land. 
      Kelly rose gracefully, took her cocktail and went outside. She seated herself at a vacant table by the door and crossed her long shapely legs provocatively.  Removing her sunglasses to stare at her reflection in the hand mirror she carried, she noticed a man on the other side of the window who was watching her closely.  She pouted as she pretended to scrutinize her lipstick so she could keep him in her view.
Not bad looking, she told herself.  This one could prove hard to turn away.
Kelly willed him to approach. The game was about to begin and her blood was racing.
     At that moment, as if he could read her mind, he stepped through the café entrance and paused beside her table. He was rough round the edges but had a certain charisma. Kelly looked up and stared at him; he smiled with lips that held promise.
     Slowly Kelly raised an eyebrow and gave him her practised look. As he started to speak, with a voice of velvet, Kelly dismissed him with a raised hand, halting him in mid speech.  She knew what he was going to say, she had heard it a thousand times before.   Stony faced she made it known she wasn't interested.  Her over loud voice hissed as she told him to go away, adding pervert firmly to the end of her sentence.
     Peter shrugged his shoulders, answering without emotion, 'Okay, have it your way. '
      Kelly felt the buzz of triumph as she imagined his oversized ego deflating.  Maybe this place wasn't so bad she thought with a smirk.
       He walked a few paces and leaned on a convenient lamppost, only just in view of Kelly’s table. then watched as she raised her glass and took a large mouthful.
       Within a second Kelly clutched at her throat.
     Peter sauntered back and leaned over table, placing his strong hands on the wrought iron surface.
      He looked straight into the beautiful lash framed eyes, except now the face was contorted and swollen, her legs splayed grotesquely, the heal of her stiletto snapping as she writhed in pain.
  Kelly fought to control her tongue which was blue and dribble seeped out from her gaping mouth. 
       'I tried to tell you there was a wasp in your glass.'