by JD Nixon
On my way out, Farrell grabbed my arm as I walked past him and pulled me to one side, instantly garnering inquisitive glances from the other men. Our circumstances were well known and it was no secret that Heller had warned Farrell off me in uncertain and horribly violent terms. Farrell was being irresponsible.
“I can’t believe he’d do this to you. He’s such a bastard,” he whispered fiercely. “I’m going up there to say something.”
“God, please don’t, Hugh! Promise me you won’t say anything to him,” I pleaded with him in a low voice, genuinely concerned but peering around me at the other men anxiously. Heller wouldn’t tolerate any criticism from his men and Farrell would lose his job at the very least.
“The chance to work with you on a job is the only thing I look forward to here. Now he’s taking that away from me too.”
“Don’t say that!” I hissed, shaking off his arm and walking away, my heart thumping. I hoped he wouldn’t say or do anything foolish. I’d noticed Clive watching us closely from his office and knew that Heller would soon hear that Farrell and I had spoken together.
Heller rang me early the next morning, just as I’d cracked open my eyelids to the new day. I lazed back on the pillows as I spoke to him. I had some time to spare before I needed to leave for work.
“Have you organised your new job with Dawson.”
“Yes. I’m starting today.”
“You should have taken a few days off.”
“He wants me to meet his current researcher before she leaves to have her baby.”
“Have you cleared out your desk? I’m thinking of replacing you and I’ll need that space.”
“Oh, are you? Was it necessary to ban me from the office? That’s very harsh.”
“Yes, it was. You don’t work for me any more.”
“What did you decide to do about that story with Trent?”
“Tell him yes, but only on the condition that I retain control over the story’s content and images.”
“I’ll tell him when I see him,” I said yawning.
“How are you planning on getting to your new job today?”
“I’ll drive. How else?”
“What will you drive?”
What a weird question. “My little car.”
“My little car, Matilda.”
“What? You’re not going to let me use my car?”
“No. My insurance doesn’t cover non-employees. You’ll have to find your own way to work from now on.”
“Oh boy! I didn’t think this suspension through very well, did I?”
“You’ll have to start paying rent as well and no more visits to the pantry or library.”
“Heller!”
“I’m running a business, Matilda, not a charity. You’re non-productive. I’m not supporting you so you can make money for someone else.” A low, sexy chuckle. “Although we could come to some alternative arrangement if you prefer.”
“What? I sleep with you in return for free rent? There’s a term for that, you know.”
“Yes – a very happy Matilda.”
“You have an ego the size of a planet! And not one of the small planets either,” I snapped. “I’d rather pay my own way, thanks all the same.”
“Pity.” The smile in his voice annoyed me. I hung up on him.
I logged onto the public transport website and checked out the bus routes, groaning in frustration when I realised that travel to the network office from here would involve three buses. Shit! I was missing all the perks of my Heller’s job already. If I wanted to catch the first bus, I’d have to be out of here in ten minutes. I took a one-minute shower, skipped breakfast, threw on the first clothes I found, sprinted down the stairs and out the door, almost bowling over some men arriving for work.
“Sorry!” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran up the road, making it to the bus stop just as the bus pulled up. It was already jam-packed and I had to stand with the other unlucky commuters who didn’t have a seat. Crammed in like sardines, I held on desperately as the bus driver braked suddenly and for no apparent reason every few metres, our bodies crushed together, my nose firmly planted in a sweaty university student’s hairy armpit. I groped blindly in my handbag for my iPod to relieve the sheer awfulness of the situation, only to remember that I’d left it charging on my kitchen bench. No! I could have cried with disappointment.
My second bus was twenty minutes late and even more packed than the first. By the end of the third crowded bus trip, I’d seriously decided that I was going to sleep with Heller tonight just to get my job back. It was degrading, but ultimately less undignified than the whole public transport experience in this city.
Consequently, I was in a very bad mood when I arrived at the network office building to find that Trent hadn’t advised security that I would be starting work for him today. Network security consisted of two big, brawny men with no necks and no brains, who looked me up and down in an insultingly carnal manner, even after I explained my situation.
“Shove off, sweetheart,” said Brawny One. “Nobody gets in to see Mr Dawson unless we’ve been told.”
“Can you two meatheads please just ring him and tell him I’ve arrived?” I asked again for the fourth time, rapidly losing the tiny portion of patience I still possessed.
“He’s not interested in groupies, understand?” Brawny Two told me. “He’s not even here, so obviously he’s not expecting you. So do yourself a favour and fuck off before things turn ugly.”
“Things already have turned ugly with you two standing around,” I spat out imprudently.
“Look bitch, I’m not saying it again. Go flog your holes somewhere else. Mr Dawson’s not interested in a slag like you.”
“What’s Mr Dawson not interested in?” he asked cheerfully, strolling up to us, swinging his car keys in his hand. “Morning, men. Morning, Tilly. Dressed to impress on your first day, I see.”
I looked down at my casual outfit, now ashamed of my runners, jeans and t-shirt. I didn’t have any makeup on and couldn’t remember if I’d even brushed my hair. I certainly hadn’t brushed my teeth.
“Sorry, Trent. I left in a bit of a rush this morning, and just put on the first things I found.”
“You know her, Mr Dawson?” Brawny One asked in disbelief.
“Of course guys, this is Tilly Chalmers. She’s starting work for me today.” I really had to fight an overpowering urge to childishly poke my tongue out at them. “And I’ve no doubt you’ll both be very pleased to welcome her into the network family. Always nice to have another pretty woman around, hey fellows?”
The two Brawnies regarded me with the same expression you’d give that stinky brown stuff on the bottom of your shoe after a walk in the park, and Brawny Two even snorted in derision. I admit I probably wasn’t looking my best at that moment, flushed and crumpled from the bus trips, but there was no call for that level of rudeness. Just because I’d implied that they were both stupid and unattractive.
Trent was oblivious to it all. “How nice that you’ve all met so soon. Tilly, these two men will be responsible for ushering you safely through the office door every single day you work here.”
“That’s just super, Trent. I look forward to it,” I beamed insincerely. The Brawnies glowered at me. I flipped them the mental finger. They mentally returned the gesture.
“She used to work at Heller’s,” he told them. I wished he hadn’t.
“I thought he had high standards,” Brawny One snarled in contempt.
“He does. Didn’t make it through the interview, huh?” I taunted, and knew from the unbecoming red flushing his face that I’d hit a sore spot. There’s no doubt about it, I have a winning way with men.
“Tilly was suspended though, so she’s come to work for me.” The Brawnies smirked.
“Trent, I don’t think they’re interested in my life story,” I said hurriedly, nudging him towards the lift.
“See you later, fellows!” he waved at them cheerfully, before we steppe
d into the nearest lift. Inside his jolliness dropped away like a mask. “What was all that about? They looked as though they were about to thump you.”
“They took exception to me disparaging their looks and intelligence. They didn’t believe me when I said I was working for you. Do I look like a liar?”
“I agree that they’re absolute jerks, but I try to stay on their good side at least. Are you always so combative with gigantic men? I’m beginning to see why Heller was glad to have me take the burden of being your boss off his shoulders for a while.”
“I had a terrible morning trying to get here, and they pissed me off. Heller won’t let me use any business resources, and I don’t own a car. I had to take three buses to get here. Look, you know what, I can’t do this, Trent. I live right across the city from here. There’s no way I can do that commute each day for a year. Let’s just forget the whole thing.” And I moved to stop the lift.
“Is it easier for you to get to my apartment?”
I halted and turned around. “Yes, it’s much closer.”
“Well, you can work from there. Most of your work will be with phone and email anyway, so location isn’t critical. You don’t need to be here all the time. And there’s the view. Don’t forget that.”
“Are you sure? You would let me do that? I love that view!”
“Sure, doesn’t matter to me and I’m your boss. But you need to spend the rest of the week coming in here though for the handover. Can you cope for that long?”
“Yes. Thank you so much, Trent. You’re such a great boss already.” And I couldn’t help myself but give him a huge, but unprofessional, hug.
Chapter 25
The next few days passed quickly. Marissa, Trent’s researcher, was good-natured and friendly, glad that Trent had finally found a replacement for her. She spoke of him with fond affection and I observed they shared a relaxed, bantering kind of relationship. She showed me the ropes, and I was fairly confident I could handle the work.
On the Wednesday of that week, Trent took me back to his apartment after work and I dressed there for the charity event that evening. I chose an ultra-feminine dress that flashed some cleavage and pinned my hair up, allowing soft tendrils to caress my neck and shoulders. Trent was handsome in a tuxedo, and we headed out happily together.
It was a great night and we had a lot of fun and laughs together. Our photo was snapped a few times during the evening and for the following week I scoured magazines and newspapers, cutting out each photo of us. In most of them I was just captioned as Trent’s ‘friend’ or ‘companion’ and the few times they actually bothered to name me, they spelt my name wrong. Trent was a perfect gentleman that evening, on his best behaviour.
As the evening finished very late, he talked me into staying over at his place, arguing sensibly that I could catch a lift to work with him the next day. After letting Heller know, I happily snuggled into his guest bed, the sounds of the harbour drifting through the open window.
When I woke up in the morning, I realised that I didn’t have any clean clothes to change into. Trent lent me a fresh t-shirt, but otherwise I was stuck in the same undies and jeans that I’d worn the previous day. I was self-conscious turning up to work with him, the Brawnies greeting us with innuendo dripping from their nasty smiles. My embarrassment grew when Marissa untactfully enquired if I was wearing Trent’s t-shirt, because she recognised it as one of his. I tried to brazen it out with a barefaced lie, but her sceptical, knowing smile suggested she didn’t believe me. I guess she’d seen Trent with a revolving door of women.
Finally, Saturday arrived. The day of Will’s wedding. I wasn’t sure how I felt when I woke up, but lay in bed, staring at the sky from out of my window, trying to pick through my emotions. All I hoped for was that I didn’t make an absolute arse of myself in front of everybody. Or was that too much to ask?
Daniel popped in briefly as I was dressing, reminding me that he was attending a party with Anton and his friends tonight. We exchanged quick wishes for a pleasant evening for each other and he dashed off to finish getting ready.
I’d bought a new dress especially for the wedding, agonising for days over the decision. In the end I chose a sweet and modest vintage-style empire line dress in emerald green with black trimmings, with matching emerald shoes and a dark green and black handbag. I kept my hair long and soft. I was making last minute adjustments to my appearance when there was a knock on my door.
“It’s open!” I yelled from the bathroom and looked up to see Heller reflected in the mirror. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me finish my final touches. I turned around with a flourish.
“Well? What’s the verdict?”
He came forward and took my hands in his. “Beautiful, angelic and innocent. Just the perfect look to attend your ex-lover’s wedding.” I gave him a sad smile. “Are you going to be okay, Matilda? Maybe I should have gone with you to make sure you will be.”
“Too late now. I’m sure I’ll be fine, and if not, I’ll just drink myself senseless. I’ll never be a close family friend anyway, so it doesn’t matter if I vomit all over the bride.” I smiled when his forehead creased with a frown. “That’s a joke, Heller. I’m going to be fine.”
He drove me to Trent’s apartment, and we shared a brief kiss before I alighted. The doorman waved to me, used to my presence by now and I waved back, heading for the lift. Trent opened his door wearing a charcoal suit and a green-accented shirt.
“We match!” I said in delight. “How did you know I’d be wearing green?”
“I had no idea,” he replied honestly, and kissed me on the cheek. “You look beautiful, Tilly. That colour really suits you. I’ll be the envy of every man in the room. Probably even the groom,” he joked.
“Possibly,” I replied cautiously. “We were once very close.”
“How close?”
“He used to be my boyfriend. In fact, he cheated on me with the bride before he dumped me.”
“Oh dear. And you still agreed to go to his wedding?”
“It’s important to show him that I don’t care.”
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to go to his wedding. That would have shown him that you don’t care at all.”
I sighed in exasperation. “Why can’t any of you men understand my logic about this?”
“There’s logic involved?” he teased, readjusting his tie in the mirror. “Please tell me it won’t end up being one of those weddings where I get my teeth knocked out trying to defend you?”
“No,” I reassured him, laughing. “Everything will be perfectly civilised. Trust me. Although he wants me to keep sleeping with him.”
Trent spun around. “After he’s married?” I nodded. “That’s appalling behaviour. What kind of a man is he? I hope you told him to shove it.”
“I haven’t yet, but I will.”
“Did you tell Heller about this?”
“Yes. He was a little . . . angry when I told him.”
“Jesus, you like to live dangerously, don’t you? Do you still love him?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. He crushed my heart and it was kind of flattering to have him begging me to see him again. But a lot’s happened since then. I haven’t seen him for weeks. He’s probably changed his mind and has moved on by now.”
But he hadn’t. As Trent and I walked up to the church, I spotted Will immediately, standing nervously out the front with his best man and groomsman, greeting guests and chatting. He glanced up and his eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. People would soon notice if he kept that longing gaze directed at me all night. When we reached him, I kissed him chastely on the cheek.
“Will, you’re very handsome today,” I said sincerely. “Formal wear really suits you.” I’d never had the chance to see him in it.
“Tilly. It’s so wonderful to see you again. It’s been far too long.”
Trent loudly cleared his throat. I was conscious of the curious attention we received
from the other people milling out the front of the church.
“Where are my manners?” I said lightly. “Will, please meet my date, Trent Dawson. Trent, this is my . . . friend, Will Armstrong. The groom.”
They shook hands. Will considered Trent unhappily. “You look familiar, Trent. You’re on TV or something, right?”
Trent’s wink to me was self-deprecating. “I’ll admit that I’ve done a little TV.”
“How did you two meet?” Will asked.
“On a job,” I answered.
“I was afraid you were going to bring Heller along today.” He turned to Trent. “Have you met Heller yet?”
“Oh yeah. It’s quite an experience,” Trent smiled. Will nodded with emphatic agreement.
“I don’t work for him at the moment, Will. I’m working for Trent now.”
He was stunned but not able to pursue it further, forced to move on from us with the arrival of more guests. Trent and I shifted over to the edge of the crowd, neither of us knowing anybody, relying on each other for entertainment. He engendered a certain amount of excitement amongst the guests, everyone too polite to speak to him directly, preferring to whisper about him and peer over each other’s shoulders to get a better glimpse of him. I hoped that after everyone had a few drinks, he wouldn’t be mauled by secret fans. He suppressed a bored yawn and I squeezed his arm, grinning at him. “Having fun?”
“I think you’re going to owe me a feel-up of your boobs tonight for dragging me along to this, Tilly,” he murmured in a low voice.
“In your dreams, Dawson.”
“Well, at least a look at them.”
“Not going to happen.”
“At least let me sniff one of your bras.”
I giggled so loudly that people looked over in surprise. “Okay, but only if you behave.”
“Finally, something to look forward to!” he said, making me giggle again.
A tyrannical family member, who’d obviously made it her sacred duty to extinguish any spark of enjoyment, started ushering guests into the church. She honed in on us immediately.