02 Heller's Revenge - Heller

by JD Nixon

  The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Clive allocated me a small assignment for a couple of days, acting as companion to the wife and daughter of an interstate businessman in the city to negotiate the sale of a large residential development. I was glad for the new job, tired of dodging Heller so I didn’t have to hear about his night with Jenna. There’s only so much a woman can bear.

  At our first meeting, the client confided that his wife was mildly agoraphobic and exceedingly nervous about leaving her comfort zone by visiting a different city. He wanted someone with her during the day while he was occupied with business, but didn’t think it was fair to hand that responsibility over to his teenage daughter. I could only agree with him.

  His wife, Clare, was a timid, insipid woman, with pale skin, pale gray eyes and pale blonde hair. She wore neutral, virtually colourless, clothes. It was a curious effect, almost like camouflage as she blended into every background. Her daughter, Zoe, was a bright and pretty blonde-haired young lady, more confident and extroverted than her poor mother.

  On the first day, I took them to the city zoo, which they enjoyed despite Clare’s anxiety in the press of the crowd. With a huge effort she managed to endure the visit, distracted somewhat by the animals, Zoe supporting her by constantly holding her hand. At lunchtime I ended up clutching Clare’s other hand as we battled through the raucous crowd at the zoo cafe to find a spare table. It was simply too much for her though, and she began to panic, her breathing laboured and her forehead shiny with perspiration. I led them both outside to a sheltered, quieter spot, returning to the fray by myself to collect some food for us.

  The next day I took them on a harbour cruise in the morning, which was more manageable for Clare because there were less people around. She even seemed to relax for a while, her interest captured as we floated past all the expensive harbour-front houses, even though she probably owned something similarly grand back in her home city. In the afternoon we wandered around the botanical gardens. A keen gardener, Clare mustered some enthusiasm during our meanderings, and I caught a glimpse of the vivacious woman her phobia was stopping her from being. Afterwards, we loitered at the gardens’ cafe, sipping tea and munching on cream cakes, while eyeing off the handsome barista. Or maybe it was only me doing that?

  When the handsome barista moved his attention to a larger-tipping customer, I suggested some activities to the two women to fill the remainder of the day. Clare indicated she wasn’t up to visiting the city’s museums or doing any shopping, so I didn’t push. Instead we took a leisurely stroll on the harbour front before I delivered them back to their hotel and handed them safely to the client. They were flying out first thing in the morning and were planning on an early retirement that evening. Clare and Zoe professed such genuine gratitude for my services that I was embarrassed. With their assurances that they’d had a marvellous time ringing in my ears, I left them feeling more as though I’d performed a public service rather than my job.

  I know – it seems unbelievable that I get paid to do that sort of work, doesn’t it? It sounds like an easy way to make a living, but unfortunately not every assignment I do is as tranquil and pleasant as that one. And I was about to be reminded of that disagreeable truth soon enough.

  Back at my flat, my dinner eaten and my dishes washed and dried, Dixie rang me to complain about her evening with the league legend.

  “He might have won best player awards, but there was no award from me for best stayer, that’s for sure,” she divulged.

  “Oh no,” I sympathised. “Not a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ type of guy?”

  “You’ve got it! Not just a quickie, but a complete fucking lack of awareness about a woman’s needs. It was like, I’m done, thanks bitch, now what’s on TV?”

  “What a jerk!”

  “He’s an utter arsehole! And he carried on as if I should be grateful that he even gave me a shag in the first place, even though I’ve had more fun with my little finger!” She paused and I heard her taking a huge swig of wine, probably the cheap and nasty cask wine that had been our mainstay when we’d lived together. I contemplated my glass of expensive white wine with not a small amount of guilt. “I’m thinking of posting that photo on Facebook. Let everyone see how tiny he really is. What do you think?”

  “Only if you’re not going to end up being sued, Dix,” I cautioned.

  “Wouldn’t care frankly. I’ve got nothing for him to take and it would be worth the publicity.” Unlike me, Dixie still harboured hopes of cracking an acting career. “And besides, footballers are always having skin shots of themselves passed around. They’re used to it.” She thought for a moment. “Hmm, maybe I should sell it to one of those shows like People’s Pulse? That Trent Dawson is a bit of a hottie. Do you think I’d get to meet him if I did?”

  “Don’t know, babe. He probably has researchers to do all that kind of stuff. But promise me that you’ll think about it some more before you do anything,” I asked.

  “S’pose,” she reluctantly agreed, before taking another swig of wine, brightening. “Hey, did you see that superhero chick on YouTube? I sent you the link.” She laughed. “How does someone with an arse that big ever get to be a model anyway?”

  “I didn’t think it looked that big,” I protested weakly. “Maybe it was just the camera angle? Or that lingerie she was wearing? It was pretty bitsy.”

  “All I can say is that she showed some real balls by flashing that mountain of flesh around in public,” she snickered.

  “I bet she didn’t want to do it, but she probably didn’t have any choice. People have to do all sorts of horrible things in their job.”

  “I guess.” Bitterness flooded her voice. “Like making lard-burgers for lard-arses.” Dixie reluctantly worked for a multinational fast food chain in a twenty-four hour shop on the red-eye shift, leaving her time for auditions during the day.

  “No luck with new gigs?”

  She sighed heavily. “No. Only the usual crap that Kristo finds. God, he’s such a creep! Now he expects me to hump him just because he got me a dead body role in the next series of Dissection. I really need a new agent.”

  I tried to be supportive. “But still, that’s a fairly popular show. Mum loves it and so do all her friends.” That was actually a lie because Mum had told me it was the worst forensics show she’d ever watched on TV, managing to be simultaneously gruesome and boring. “You’ll get a lot of exposure from doing that.”

  She wasn’t in the mood for support. “I’m just a dead body, Tilly, not a fucking star. No need to wet yourself over it.”

  Her snarkiness stung me – I was trying to be a good friend. “Well, you know you could always get a real job, Dixie,” I suggested tartly. And by God, wasn’t I the superior, mature one now, with the responsible job? Dixie didn’t appreciate my attitude. Not one little bit. And looking back on it, I couldn’t blame her.

  “Well, fuck me, Tilly Chalmers. Congratulations! You’ve just turned into my mother!”

  “Dixie –” I pleaded, regretting my hasty words.

  She hung up on me.

  As soon as I replaced my receiver, cursing myself, the phone rang again. It was my mother, and there’s karma biting me on the butt.

  “When are you going to visit again, Tilly? We haven’t seen you for a while.” Without even drawing a decent, separating breath, she added, “And please bring that lovely Mr Heller with you again.”

  “I don’t know, Mum. I’m very busy at the moment with work,” I snapped, harsher than I meant, still agitated from my phone call with Dixie.

  “Tilly? What’s the matter, honey? You sound a little upset.”

  “It’s nothing,” I sighed.

  “We never see you anymore. Your father was only saying that this morning.”

  No one does guilt quite like your mother. “How about when I find some free time, I’ll take you and Dad out for dinner?” I thought of my brothers. “With Sean and Brian as well? Maybe even with my new boyfriend, Will. You’ll
love him. He’s very sweet.”

  “Not Mr Heller?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. Mum had a soft spot for Heller. And his muscles.

  Instant irritation swelled up inside me. “No, Mum! I said Will, not Heller. Will! He’s lovely! You’ll love him!”

  Pointed silence at her end, then unmistakable frostiness. “Well, Matilda Ann, I can see that you don’t want to chat to me today. Perhaps you should ring me when you’re feeling a little bit more polite.”

  She disconnected.

  Damn! It was going to take more than a bunch of pretty flowers to make up for that. My phone rang again. You know what it’s like – nobody rings you for ages and then they all think of you at once.

  “What do you want?” I demanded into the receiver.

  “Tilly?” It was Will, his voice hesitant at my heated greeting.

  “Oh hi, babe. Sorry for the angry tone. I was just talking to Dixie and Mum and they were both giving me some grief.”

  “Sounds like you need a lot of good loving.”

  I thought about his soft lips and his hard penis. “Oh God, yes! Where and when?”

  “My place, later tonight. Let’s say about six? I’ll make you dinner, then make you a grinner.”

  I laughed – my first real laugh for the whole day. “You’re on, sunshine! And if you don’t deliver the goods, I will be reporting you to the consumer protection agency. I just want you to know that.”

  “No problems about delivering at all, gorgeous. I can’t wait to see you again. And remember, at my house panties are always optional.” I giggled. “Speaking of panties, did you see that YouTube clip of that chick beating up that old guy? I sent you the link. What a babe! She could wrangle me to the ground any day. She reminded me a little of you.”

  “Wasn’t me,” I shot out immediately.

  He laughed. “I didn’t say it was, Tilly. But if you’re in the mood to model, bring over your lingerie and give me a private show tonight.”

  I laughed dutifully, but after my experience with Jenna, nothing held less appeal for me than parading around in my lacy nothings.

  I said my farewells and hung up, smiling happily. Immediately, there was an enthusiastic rap on my door. When I opened it, Niq and Daniel stood in front of me, both with a smug expression on their faces.

  “Hello guys. What’s up?” I asked, wary.

  “Tilly, we are going to make you dinner tonight,” Niq burst out with excitement.

  “We’ve been planning it for weeks! We have the menu perfect, right down to the last detail,” beamed Daniel.

  I groaned to myself. “Guys, when you were planning this, didn’t it occur to you to check that I was actually free on the night? Because I’ve made plans to see Will tonight.”

  They stared at me, disappointed.

  “You’re always with him,” Niq accused.

  “I’m sorry. If you’d only asked me before . . .” I felt like a monster looking at their unhappy faces and offered an olive branch. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

  “I guess,” agreed Daniel ungraciously. Niq merely glared at me, mutinous misery on his face. They returned to Daniel’s flat, across the hall from mine, Niq slamming the door behind him.

  Double damn! I couldn’t make anyone happy today. And with that thought in mind, I decided to dispense with the worst task of all. I took a deep breath, picked up my phone and rang Heller.

  “Matilda?”

  “I’m going out tonight.” Silence. I took another deep breath and shot out, like machine-gun fire, “I’m going to Will’s place. I’m going to stay all night this time. And I’m going to drive myself there.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I said no.”

  I flung down the phone and grabbed my handbag. I flew out the door, not even stopping to put on any shoes, and bolted down the stairs, two at a time, to the basement garage. Looking over my shoulder in fear, I swiped my staff card to retrieve the set of keys to the small black hatchback I drove, slid in, quickly reversed and was gunning up the driveway when I saw Heller jumping down the last few stairs to the garage in my rear view mirror. I gave him a little wave as the automatic door to the garage closed behind me. My heart was pounding. I didn’t know what he would do. He was quite capable of chasing me. Quite capable of shooting me too, I thought nervously, remembering his extensive armoury in the first basement.

  I floored the accelerator and ignoring all speed limits arrived at Will’s house a while before he was expecting me. In fact, I was so early that he wasn’t even home. I sat in my car watching anxiously for that black Mercedes with its distinctive gold and black HELLER licence plate, until Will came home. As soon as he turned into his driveway, I jumped out of my car and greeted him passionately to his enormous, and surprised, delight. He was even more pleased when I told him I was there not only for dinner, but for breakfast as well.

  I’d finally made somebody happy. And I proceeded to make him even happier three times during the night as well.

  Chapter 6

  “We should do this more often,” said Will softly, holding my hands across his kitchen table. He had made me a delicious breakfast; he was a good cook and that’s always a bonus in a man for me, because I loved to eat. It had been blissful to wake up in his arms in the morning. I gazed at him with dreamy happiness. He really was one of the sweetest men I had ever met.

  “I love you, Tilly,” he said. Momentous. The first time.

  I decided to jump into the deep end with him, even though I wasn’t entirely sure about my feelings. “I love you too, Will.”

  We reached across the table and kissed gently. He cupped my face with his hand.

  “You’re so beautiful. I don’t know what you see in me.”

  I frowned at him. “Are you kidding? Not only are you cute, but you’re also one of the nicest men I know.”

  “I’ve found that women aren’t usually interested in nice men. I guess that’s why I’m still not married at the old age of thirty-five.” There was a slightly bitter twinge in his voice that made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to talk about marriage.

  “I’m interested in nice men,” I said instead with deliberate lightness, reaching across again to kiss him on the nose.

  “I’m glad.” His face grew grave. “Tilly, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I really think we could become serious. I don’t see you enough though. Once a week’s not enough for me. I want to see you more often. All the time, even. Maybe you could think about moving in with me. I have this whole house to myself.” He stood up and clumsily placed some dishes on the sink, embarrassed, and I guessed that it had taken a lot of courage for him to propose that.

  But my heart sank. “Will, that sounds like a great idea, but my life is a bit complicated at the moment. I have to work very strange hours, and it wouldn’t be fair on you.”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth that I could never contemplate leaving the Warehouse. I could never leave Niq and Daniel. I could never leave Heller.

  Will struggled to smile. “That’s okay. It was only a suggestion. We can talk about it again one day, maybe.”

  “Sure we can.” He was hurt and I felt terrible. I wasn’t very good at making people happy, after all.

  I walked over to him and hugged him. He needed to prepare himself for a new school day and for once I watched him getting ready. I even scrubbed his back in the shower, eventually managing to elicit a smile from him again.

  “Why didn’t you bring an overnight bag with you? Or any shoes?” he asked with understandable curiosity, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

  “I just ran out the door with excitement after your phone call and forgot to pack,” I told him, with a deplorable lack of truthfulness.

  He laughed and slipped on his suit jacket.

  “I love a girl who’s keen,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. I tugged on his tie so that he had to kiss me several more times before I would let him go. We walked outside together, arms around each other, a
nd went to our separate vehicles after a very sweet parting. I watched him drive away safely, before I started my car and headed back to the Warehouse. I was dreading the welcome on my return, and drove home very slowly. I knew that Heller would know the second I came home – he’s not in the surveillance business for nothing.

  However, I managed to park the car and make it to my flat without being accosted. I was about to step into the bathroom to take a shower, when he walked into my flat.

  “You’re supposed to knock,” I reminded him, my voice frigid.

  He didn’t answer, but walked over to me and grasped my chin roughly in his hand, his eyes searching my face. I stared back at him unflinchingly, not ashamed of my well-satisfied features. He looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept much during the night. My shoulders slumped suddenly and I sighed hugely. Knowing him, he had probably sat up all night waiting for me to return.

  “You’re exhausted,” I said, reaching up to stroke his face gently. He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

  “I thought you’d come home.”

  “No. I told you I was going to stay with Will for the night.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “It was . . . nice.”

  “This is what you want?”

  “God! I don’t know. He told me he loved me, Heller.”

  He stared down at me, eyes intense. “Do you love him?” An emphasis on the word, as if that emotion was unfamiliar to him.

  “I don’t know. I told him that I did, but I don’t know if that’s true.” No response from him. “He’s exactly the kind of man that I always thought I would marry. He wants me to move in with him.”