Heller's Regret

by JD Nixon

  Pushing her potential problems to the back of my mind, I flicked through a few websites without much interest, eventually caught up reading a bitter forum fight on a well-known food blog about pasta sauce of all things. Pasta sauce? I laughed to myself. Guess some people were really passionate about their pasta meals. My front door opened, but I didn’t bother turning around – it was probably Heller. There weren’t too many surprises about my visitors, especially after that traumatic experience with his bunny-boiler ex-girlfriend.

  “What is so amusing, my sweet?”

  “People are fighting over pasta sauce recipes,” I laughed. He smiled and pulled up a chair next to me. “You should see what they’re saying to each other. They’re starting to insult each other’s nonnas. I think that’s going too far, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, his voice suspiciously serious. “That’s most definitely going too far.”

  I slapped his knee. “Stop it. If anyone insulted my grandmas, I wouldn’t like to think what would happen to them.”

  He laughed. “What a firecracker you are, Matilda. You would go fight them?”

  “No, I’m not crazy. I’d send you to fight them,” I grinned at him.

  He slipped something out of his pocket and placed it on my lap. It was a gift.

  “Heller!” I said, delighted. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  The wrapping paper was a delicate shimmering silver in colour. I slowly unwrapped it, making sure I didn’t tear it.

  “Why are you being so careful? It’s only paper.”

  “Because you gave it to me and I want to keep it forever.”

  “I hope you’ll want to keep the gift more.”

  “Of course I will, but I’ll keep the wrapping paper too.”

  “I didn’t realise you were such a fan of paper. Next time I’ll give you paper wrapped up with more paper. Imagine your excitement then.”

  I giggled. “That would be funny.”

  Finished with the paper, I held a jewellery case in my hands. I shot Heller a querying glance, but he merely smiled innocently in response. A beautiful necklace nestled inside the case. From a softly gleaming gold chain studded with diamonds set at regular intervals, dangled an intricate interlaced design made entirely of diamonds. Examining it closely, I distinguished a subtle heart in the midst of the pattern.

  “Oh, Heller, it’s so lovely. Thank you.” I leaned over to kiss him, a gentle embrace of gratitude that he commandeered, taking it to a more intense level. When he let me go, I said, “Whew! Thanks for that too.”

  He rested his arm across my shoulders. “Do you know what that symbol is?”

  “It’s some kind of Celtic knot, isn’t it? I can see a heart in the design. Is it a heart knot?”

  “I’ve always said you are a very clever woman. It’s exactly that.”

  I traced my finger around the design. “It’s very beautiful. Does it have any meaning?”

  “It certainly does.”

  I waited. “Are you going to tell me what that meaning is?”

  “No.”

  I turned back to the computer to search for it, but he lifted my hands from the keyboard. “Not now. It’s rather late and you need your rest for work tomorrow. Let me put your necklace on.”

  I handed it to him, spinning around on my chair. “Wearing a diamond necklace in bed? Very decadent.”

  “I believe you’ll find it nicer not to be completely naked in bed.”

  I giggled. “You predict the future.”

  “With startling accuracy.” He fastened the necklace and I raced off to the bathroom to admire it.

  “I love it. I think it’s the loveliest piece of jewellery I’ve ever owned.”

  “I’m hurt you’ve forgotten about the paper.”

  “It’s the loveliest piece of paper I’ve ever owned too,” I said, not able to stop giggling as I said it.

  “Let’s see what the necklace looks like without the distraction of clothes.” He pulled off my pyjama top and yanked down my boxers.

  I pirouetted for him. “Well?”

  “Perfect. I much prefer it this way.” He leaned down to kiss each of my breasts, his hand reaching between my thighs.

  Animal heat burned inside me instantly at the touch of his tongue and his fingers against my warm skin. We tumbled onto my bed, already entwined, forgetting about everything else in the world except how good we made each other feel.

  Afterwards, I lolled on the bed in that deeply satisfied state after an explosive orgasm. Lazily, I traced around his jawline, running my fingers up to his lips. He kissed each finger.

  “This necklace was the second unexpected thing that happened to me today.”

  “What was the other?”

  “Clive apologised to me in a very nice way. He admitted he’d been wrong to send me to that boot camp.”

  “Good,” Heller said curtly.

  “I hope you’re not still angry with him?”

  “Of course not. Clive is like a brother to me. But what he did was unprofessional. I asked him to ensure you were safe. Instead he put you in a situation which severely impacted on your health. He should never have sent you away from here to a place where he lost contact with you. I was furious with him. He let me down.” All said with a chilling coldness that I found difficult to reconcile with the passion he’d just shown me.

  “He took your reprimand hard.”

  He shrugged uncaringly. “He’s a grown man. Clive can handle harsh words. I don’t overlook unprofessionalism in my staff, no matter who they are.”

  I tried to distract him from that touchy topic. “You wouldn’t like a couple of the jewellery section staff at the department store. They can’t stand each other and don’t hide it.”

  “I wouldn’t put up with that for a second. I don’t care what my men think of each other, I expect them to behave professionally at all times when at work.”

  “It’s strange that their manager puts up with it. She’s quite a tough woman.” I snortled. “She’s taken a real liking to Farrell. I think he’s her dream man.” I yawned hugely, belatedly remembering to cover my mouth.

  He caught my right arm in his, frowning. “Matilda, these cuts seem quite red. Have you spoken to the doctor about that?”

  “I’ve been meaning to,” I lied. In fact, I’d just hoped it would sort itself out, sick of medications and not wanting to be pulled from the job.

  “Make sure that you do. I don’t want to risk any further infection.”

  “I will,” I said, almost meaning it. I’d had enough of doctors.

  Heller flicked off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Matilda. Morning will come around soon enough and not only do I not want you tired on the job, but more importantly you need your rest.”

  I rolled over on my side. “I think I should take my necklace off.”

  “Don’t. I want to see you wearing it when I wake up.” He reached around me to touch the necklace, but his hand ‘somehow’ slipped and cupped my breast instead.

  “That’s not my necklace.”

  “I know. I’m protecting your beautiful skin from being scratched by the necklace.”

  I laughed. “You have an innocent answer for everything.”

  “I’ve had a lot of experience in developing innocent answers. Oh, by the way, I’m off on a job tomorrow.”

  I sprang up, twisting my body to glare at him. “Heller, that’s not something to tell me as I’m going to sleep.”

  “I’m sorry, my sweet. I thought I told you before.”

  “Like I’m going to believe that excuse after what you just told me.”

  “I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”

  I flopped back to the bed and rolled over again. “Don’t try to sweet talk me. I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you when you return.”

  “Don’t be angry with me.”

  “Then don’t spoil a lovely evening by telling me something I don’t want to hear. You know what I think about you doing these extra jobs.”<
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  I closed my eyes, and though I worried I might stay awake for a while fuming, I fell asleep quickly after the exhausting day and the vigorous romp. When I woke up early the next morning, he’d already gone, nothing left of him but a faint indent in the pillow he’d used. I tried to decide if the kiss goodbye I’d felt was real or just a dream. Who cares, I lied to myself.

  Munching on cereal, I fired up my computer, looking up Celtic heart knots. I wasn’t sure what to think when a number of sites informed me it symbolised endless love, but it did the trick in softening my mood towards him.

  Endless love.

  I sat in front of the computer for a long time ruminating on that. He’d never spoken of love to me before, though he’d insisted many times he cared for me deeply. I trusted him when he said that. I’d always assumed he was incapable of feeling or expressing romantic love for a woman, especially considering his promiscuous past. And nothing about our first three months together had done anything to change my belief in that. I’d been secretly resigned to, though not necessarily elated about, my belief that being cared for deeply by an amazing man like him was as good as it would get for me.

  Endless love, huh? That would keep me thinking hard for the rest of the day. But typically, he’d pissed off to parts unknown before I could ask him any awkward questions about the meaning of that necklace.

  Noticing it was closing in on leaving time, I bolted to dress and return my necklace to its case. I ran down the stairs, bursting into the section again.

  “Chalmers, do you ever enter a room normally?” asked Farrell in exasperation after I nearly knocked him out with the door he’d just been about to use to exit – probably to come looking for me.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly, a little breathless. “Something really threw me this morning.”

  He scrutinised my face, searching for clues about what had flustered me so much. But as I didn’t offer any information and he wasn’t the type to pry, the matter was left at that.

  At the department store, we sipped coffee standing outside the room again while we waited for opening time on the collection.

  “Last day on the job,” Farrell commented.

  “Mmh-hunf,” I replied, my mouth full of burning coffee. I gulped it down so I’d have time to view the jewellery in private before the crowds came. Vague curiosity made me wonder if I’d still feel the same way about the necklace now that Heller had given me my own beautiful sparkling necklace.

  I contemplated it, disappointed it no longer seemed to have that mesmerising allure for me. When I noticed it also seemed to have lost its sparkle in my eyes, I took some time to examine it more closely, patiently waiting until it rotated back to face me again. The slow realisation dawned on me that it wasn’t me viewing the necklace differently, there was actually something different about the necklace. It seemed cheaper, less warm, less appealing. In fact, it reminded me of the replica necklaces for sale at the counter.

  Oh God, I thought in alarm. What was I thinking? This was a very serious accusation to raise. After all, what did I know about precious gemstones? Perhaps Heller’s present had taken the shine off my admiration for this necklace.

  I approach Farrell hesitantly. “Hugh, this sounds far-fetched, but I don’t think that’s the same necklace which was in the display cabinet yesterday.”

  He didn’t immediately dismiss me as being fanciful, for which I was thankful, but came over and examined the necklace, his nose virtually pushed up against the glass.

  “See how the gemstones don’t sparkle as much as the other jewellery in the cabinets.”

  “Maybe they adjusted the lighting?”

  “I’m probably wrong and totally embarrassing myself, but to me it appears similar to the replica necklaces for sale outside.”

  “They are called replicas for a reason, Chalmers,” he chided lightly, but then redeemed himself. “What makes you say so?”

  “It seems cheaper to me. You know I’ve spent a lot of time looking at it. It doesn’t feel like the other one to me.”

  Our eyes locked together as he assessed my words. We both knew how significant it would be to bring this hunch of mine up with store management and then be proved wrong. It would be disastrous for Heller’s reputation.

  He went to the door, beckoning someone in. Francine hurried in, eager to help.

  “My colleague believes there is something wrong with this necklace. That it doesn’t look like the original, but more like the replicas.”

  Unknowingly duplicating Farrell’s stance a minute ago, Francine inspected the piece, before straightening, her face ashen. “Tilly, I’m afraid you might be right. That’s definitely not the original. But I’d feel better if Mrs Burwood gave us her opinion too.”

  Farrell headed out in search of her, but as if she heard her name, she came into the room before he had the chance, probably hoping to check him out before starting work for the day.

  “Mrs Burwood,” he said, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of talking to him. “I hope this isn’t a bother, but I wonder if you’d mind taking a look at the necklace.”

  His request surprised her. “Of course, it’s no bother.”

  She whipped out her handheld jewellers eyeglass, which I found out much later was called a loupe, and forensically examined the necklace. She stiffened, her hand splayed on her chest, gasping out in a strangled voice, “It’s not the same necklace. It’s a cheap copy.”

  Chapter 16

  “I think it’s one of the replicas from your own counter,” I said.

  “That’s impossible,” she whispered in total shock, her face stripped of all colour. “Oh, dear Lord, what am I going to do?”

  “Ring the security manager now,” Farrell instructed and she trotted off with robotic obedient.

  Five minutes later, a large, thickset, closely shaven man in his fifties, with a receding hairline and the beginnings of a paunch, rushed into the room. He pulled up at the display cabinet, puffing. His suit was neatly pressed, his only decoration a nametag and a prohibitively expensive watch. Security manager he may be, but he was no Clive, I surprised myself by thinking.

  Mrs Burwood formally introduced him to us as Mr Collett. He listened attentively while she explained her terrible suspicions, Francine standing to the side twisting her hands together nervously.

  “Impossible,” he said, echoing Mrs Burwood’s earlier words. “Our night time security cameras are top quality.”

  “They were probably disabled,” said Farrell.

  Collett wasn’t having a bar of that argument, flipping Farrell an impatient, patronising look that wouldn’t have gone down well with my quiet partner. “Impossible.” That seemed to be the word of the day in this store, despite the impossible having apparently occurred. “I think I know what I’m talking about when it comes to surveillance systems. I exclusively installed security systems for a very good business when I was in my thirties. I know what’s top-of-the-range and what’s rubbish, sonny.”

  But, like any good security officer, Farrell didn’t let it go for a moment. “A lot’s changed since then. Yes, that system you’ve installed is undeniably good, but it’s not infallible. Few systems are these days. High level crims are incredibly tech-savvy. It’s all system manufacturers can do to keep one step ahead of them. At Heller’s, where Chalmers and I work, it’s always recommended that clients install ancillary alarms along with any security camera system. In any situation of system disablement or failure, the alarms will alert the responding security team to a possible breach. Is there an alarm system attached to these cameras?”

  “No,” Collett said sullenly.

  Farrell spent a minute peering up at each of the cameras in the room. “These were, and are still, disabled. Doesn’t anyone on your team check them every morning?”

  Collett squirmed, studiously ignoring the massing storm clouds on Mrs Burwood’s face. “Normally. But I was caught up with the store manager for a while this morning.”

  “You should ha
ve told him to wait five minutes until you’d ticked that task off your list, especially with such a valuable collection on loan. Next time you need security for a major collection like this, call Heller’s Security & Surveillance. We’ll set up the two systems, backed up by a twenty-four hour response service, and provide on-floor officers such as Chalmers and me for the day shift.”

  “For a security officer only hired to do a three-day job, you seem to have a lot of opinions.”

  “Opinions don’t cost anything, unlike having rare jewellery stolen from you. That’s definitely going to screw up your next insurance premiums.” Collett mentally calculated the increase in premiums, turning green as he did. It was probably part of his brief to ensure they remained reasonable each year. Farrell remained unemotional as he indicated both of us. “We know our arses are in the fire when we return to work because this necklace was stolen. It’s not our fault, so that’s unfair, sure. But incompetence and unprofessionalism aren’t tolerated at Heller’s for a second. I want to be able to tell my boss that at least I pointed out better options for protecting your collections in the future.”

  Collett’s face shut down at Farrell’s blunt words, but Mrs Burwood hung on them, nodding enthusiastically as she absorbed every admonishment.

  “Mr Farrell’s right,” she spoke up with unexpected heat. “This should never have happened. I don’t know what I’m going to tell the duchy trustees. That necklace was irreplaceable.”