by JD Nixon
“No.” It was not a tone that would accept any argument.
“I told him that it wasn’t possible at the moment,” I said with a melancholic half-smile.
He was unsmiling. “It’s not ever possible.”
“No,” I agreed, my voice quiet.
“You upset Niq and Daniel yesterday,” he remarked coolly.
“Stop it. Don’t make me feel guiltier than I already do. They didn’t check if I was free.”
“They shouldn’t have to.”
“Why not? Can’t I have any life not connected with this place?” Silence from him. “I need a shower,” I said wearily, turning away.
He clutched my shoulders, spun me around and gathered me in his arms, pressing me closely to him. I slid my arms around him and rested my cheek against his neck.
“Don’t run away from me again, Matilda,” he murmured, tickling my ear with his breath.
“I didn’t run away. I told you where I was going. And I came back.”
“You did run away from me though, down the stairs. I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“Neither did I. But I knew you were going to stop me if I didn’t get out of this place straight away.”
I looked up at him. He looked down and ceded a faint smile. “You’re getting faster.”
I laughed and shoved him away, turning towards the bathroom again.
“You haven’t asked me about my night with Jenna,” he teased slyly.
“I don’t want to know.”
“It was very good.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“She was disappointed when I left her.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“She told me I’m very . . . talented.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“She said I had the biggest –”
“Ego she’d ever seen? I’d believe that!” I butted in with shrewish sharpness.
He smiled lazily. “No, Matilda. The biggest –”
“Heller! I really don’t want to know. Okay?” I’d already seen his big talent in all its fleshly glory, so I didn’t need to hear Jenna Mackenzie’s endorsement of its magnitude. Although he was very discreet with everyone else about his many romps, he seemed to have an intense need to tell me everything. And he was embarrassingly shameless when he did.
I pushed him out of my flat and took a shower. It was glorious to stand under the hot water, washing away the libidinous excesses of the night.
Niq and Daniel were frosty with me during the day and I had to be extra sweet to both of them to coax a smile from their lips. I made sure that I dressed up for their dinner for me that night, and arrived in style at Daniel’s flat right on time as directed. I brought my digital camera with me and took many shots while they were cooking. Niq gave me a few poses, being the atypical extroverted Goth that he was, while Daniel was understandably much more reserved around a camera.
Their dinner was wonderful. I’d been slowly teaching them both to cook since I’d started living at the Warehouse and they’d taken it up with enthusiasm, if not much skill. But they really had excelled tonight, managing to produce three beautiful courses – smoked salmon frittata, a stuffed loin of pork and a berry and rhubarb crumble. It was an impressive spread.
I couldn’t praise them enough. They both shone with pride and afterwards I sat wedged between them on Daniel’s lounge – Niq slipping his arm through the crook of my elbow and Daniel holding my hand – a willing captive of their occasionally overwhelming affection. Daniel and I sipped a very nice pinot grigio, my high heels kicked off and my bare feet resting on his black glass coffee table, while we watched one of their favourite blood-splattered horror movies. After the third repulsively graphic decapitation though, queasiness made me clamp my eyes shut for the rest of the film.
“Are you going to marry this Will guy?” Niq asked casually when the credits were rolling and I was brave enough to open my eyes again.
“No! I’m not marrying anyone.”
“But what if he asked you? Would you?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. Probably not.”
“I don’t want you to leave, Tilly.” He looked at me plaintively with his huge light blue eyes encased in their usual layer of black eyeliner. I reached over and ruffled his black hair. He grimaced at me, hand immediately raised to his hair to smooth down the disruption.
“I know. I’m not going anywhere, kiddo.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” And I meant it too. There was no way that I could ever leave Niq. He was only fourteen and, like Daniel, had also had a terrible childhood, the details of which were still unknown to me. I’d ask him one day, when I thought he was ready to tell me. Heller had explained once that I was probably the first positive female role model that Niq had ever had in his life. I didn’t take that responsibility lightly, even though it was uncharacteristic of me to be sensible and mature about anything.
I didn’t stay late with the guys, well aware that Heller and I had our first face-to-face meeting with Clarence Cockburn the next day. And I wanted to ensure that I gave myself plenty of time to prepare, not ready to face another dressing down from Heller for being unprofessional.
I had a good sleep and in the morning chose a short dark green skirt suit with a soft white blouse. I left the top three buttons undone, reminding myself that a glimpse of cleavage had never yet dissuaded a male client from signing on the dot for Heller’s exorbitant fees. I swept my hair up into a loose chignon, carefully arranging a handful of trailing curls around my neck. I was slightly heavy-handed when applying my makeup. Nothing slutty, mind you – just a little more eye shadow, mascara and lipstick than normal. I wanted to impress Mr Cockburn.
When I joined him in the office, Heller raised his eyebrows at my appearance, making me wonder if I’d gone too far. But as he didn’t comment, I didn’t ask. He was stylishly elegant as usual, dressed in complementary colours to me, wearing a black suit and dark green shirt.
Clarence Cockburn was staying in the newer of the city’s two six-star hotels, which had only opened a month previously. Heller announced our arrival at the reception desk where a very polite staff member deferentially rang Mr Cockburn’s room to confirm that we were indeed expected. We were instructed to proceed to the top floor of the hotel, to the executive suite. I took the opportunity to look around the hotel as we walked to the lifts. It was starkly modernistic in style, in complete contrast to the city’s opulent and luxurious other six-star hotel. And in comparison to the French antiques and baroque oil paintings of its rival, this hotel was furbished in sleek modern European furniture and sparse, puzzling contemporary artwork.
Heller knocked firmly on the executive suite’s door and we were both surprised when Mr Cockburn opened the door himself. We usually had to run a gamut of assorted lackeys before we met any of our powerful and rich clients. He seemed stunned to see us, as if we were virtual characters in his game suddenly brought to life in the flesh. His eyes flicked excitedly between us both. I should say between the three of us actually, because my boobs received their fair share of eye time as well.
He was shorter and weedier than I’d expected. He had pale blond floppy hair and a wispy moustache and goatee that looked as though they had taken several years to sprout. With his over-eager, round dark blue eyes and an angry clutch of pimples on each cheek, you would have sworn that he had only just reached pubescence, even though he was supposed to be thirty-six. His was the kind of face that showed every emotion. He would be a big hit at the Heller’s poker table, and no doubt would be fleeced of his billions in minutes – probably by Niq. His clothes came straight from the teenager’s department, and he was wearing black and red Converse sneakers, some ridiculously baggy jeans that were hanging off his butt and a t-shirt featuring Kermit the Frog. What he definitely did not look like was a wealthy, successful and presumably shrewd billionaire businessman.
“Mr Heller! Welcome! How nice to meet you. Come
in, come in,” Mr Cockburn gushed, his voice slightly high and tinged with a Californian accent. He shook our hands enthusiastically and I was deemed special enough to even receive a squeeze – of my hand that was. Although judging by his expression, he would have preferred to be squeezing another part of my body, given half the chance.
He ushered us into his ultramodern, deluxe, temporary accommodation. Some people take over a hotel room, draping and throwing their belongings about with abandon, but he didn’t appear to have made any impact on his surroundings at all. There was nothing that looked as though it didn’t belong to the hotel, except for an expensive laptop set up on a table near the window.
Mr Cockburn fussed around us, offering us five different kinds of beverage before accepting that we really weren’t thirsty, thanks very much anyway. Heller and I sat on a velvety lounge together while he sat opposite, perched on the edge of his chair, eyes wide with excitement.
“Mr Heller, Alston Paul had such praise for you and your team that I didn’t even consider any other firm. I just know that you will provide me with the services I require.” A meaningful glance in my direction.
“Thank you, Mr Cockburn. That’s very flattering. I’m hoping today to scope out your requirements precisely, so that we can make the best arrangements for you during your stay,” Heller replied smoothly in his delectable accent.
Mr Cockburn’s face lit up with delight. “You pronounced my name correctly!” As if Heller would go to a meeting with a wealthy new client without doing some basic research. “You have no idea how many people give it its phonetic pronunciation instead of its real pronunciation of ‘Co-burn’,” he explained. “It’s an old English name, you see.”
We both nodded wisely.
“But you must call me Clarrie, please. I insist.” We both nodded again. “And I’m sorry, Mr Heller, but who is your very charming companion?” His eyes were goggling at my cleavage again and while I’m told that I do have nice boobs and have grown resigned to men gawping at them, he was being uncomfortably blatant about it.
Heller showed no mercy. “This is my lovely employee, Matilda.”
“Hello Matilda. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Please, call me Tilly, Mr Cockburn.” I shot a dirty glance at Heller. “I dislike Matilda.”
“Well, thank you, Tilly!” I felt as though I’d just given him permission to sire my first-born. “But only if you promise to call me Clarrie.”
I smiled at him. “My pleasure, Clarrie.”
“Well, as I explained to your office manager by email last week . . .” A momentary pause for another glance at my boobs. “I want some security while I’m here, but definitely nothing obvious. I don’t want people to think that I’m afraid of anything.”
“Of course not,” Heller assured. “So perhaps one staff member with you at all times, twenty-four hours a day. Would that be sufficient?”
“Yes, that would be just what I’m after. But not anyone who looks like a security officer. Or anyone too masculine.” A resentful look at Heller. “I don’t want to be overshadowed. This is an important award for me. It’s the first time I’ve been formally acknowledged for my achievements in my home country.”
“Mr Cockburn, is there any reason in particular that makes you believe people will think you’re afraid of something if you hire some security?” prodded Heller gently.
“No,” Clarrie shot out quickly. “I’m merely after a companion for the time I’m back here in town. I grew up here, you know. A great place. It’s just that . . .”
We waited for a long moment.
“Just what, Clarrie,” I prompted.
He sighed. “There are some jealous people who were at university with me. They think I owe them for my creation.” He shrugged. “They might want to make a scene, but probably not. That’s why I only want a security presence, not a full-on security team. Do you understand?”
“Understood.” I could almost hear Heller’s mind running through the possibilities. He does tend to hire the bigger, more masculine types of security officers with muscles on their muscles, and I could see he was struggling to think of a suitable staff member. But then suddenly he smiled with satisfaction and I felt my heart sink.
“My recommendation would be for Matilda to act as your main security companion during your stay. She has full security and self-defence training and is an experienced security officer. She certainly wouldn’t overshadow you, and I’m sure you’d agree that she is most definitely not too masculine.” Clarrie shook his head ardently and swallowed noisily. “You have the option of having Matilda with you during the day and another staff member on duty all night, or if you prefer, she could be on call twenty-four hours a day, and even stay here in your suite with you.”
Clarrie’s eyes lit up with the possibilities. I squirmed unhappily on the lounge, not thrilled about this development, about to open my mouth to protest. Heller discreetly ground the heel of his shoe down on my toes until I was biting my bottom lip with pain. I stopped squirming and kept my mouth shut.
“Thank you, Mr Heller. Having Tilly stay here with me would be a very . . . adequate plan.” Clarrie then treated himself to an embarrassingly lingering perv at my boobs that left all of us feeling uncomfortable. He mustered the willpower to drag his eyes away, back to Heller. “She will be perfect for me.”
“Excellent. She’ll need to make some arrangements, but will be back here later this afternoon. Does that suit you?”
“Perfectly. I’m planning on working here in my room for the rest of the day and won’t be venturing out. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again this afternoon, Tilly.” And the look he gave me made him seem much less young and innocent than before.
We shook hands, made our farewells and left him standing at the door watching us. We settled ourselves into Heller’s Mercedes and as soon as we shut the doors, I started. I ranted for a solid ten minutes about how depraved Heller was to be sending me into that lion’s den, didn’t he know that I am not an object to be traded to the highest bidder, what exactly did he think Clarrie was expecting as part of the ‘service’, hadn’t he noticed that Clarrie kept staring at my boobs all the time, and didn’t he promise me that he would protect me from perverts?
Heller kept his eyes firmly on the road the entire tirade. Once I had exhausted my indignation, he turned to me.
“You will do this for me, Matilda. I insist,” he said coldly.
“Heller!”
“He’s a very important client for me. If he recommends me to others, as Alston Paul recommended me to him, it will mean more top-end business for me. And that’s important for all of us. I’m trying to build a business, Matilda. You are my employee and will do this job, and you will do it in a gracious way. Understood?”
I didn’t answer him, but slumped in my seat, arms crossed, sulking the rest of the way home. This was the part I hated about working for him.
Chapter 7
I packed in a hurry, pulling out all my least suggestive clothes from my cupboards and shoving them roughly and angrily into my suitcase. Niq sat on the edge of my bed, watching my frantic packing activities with unhappiness.
“Two whole weeks?” he complained. “That’s too long. I’m going to say something to Heller.”
“Good luck with that!” I spat out viciously. “He’s the one making me do it.”
“It’s not fair!”
“I know.” I stopped and looked up. He really did look miserable. “Oh, honey. It’ll be okay. It’ll go quickly. I’ll have my mobile and I’ll take my laptop and check my email and Facebook every day. But make sure you contact me. I’ll be going insane otherwise.”
He nodded despondently.
“Hey, how about you and Daniel plan a wonderful ‘Welcome Home Tilly’ meal for me? You have two weeks to plan for it. How does that sound?”
He nodded again reluctantly.
“And when I come home, we’ll go out shopping, just you and me. We’ll buy everything we w
ant and we’ll put it all on Heller’s credit card. Okay?”
He gave me a small smile. He loved shopping and spending Heller’s money.
“God, I’m going to miss you!” I hugged him tightly, until he protested about me crushing his ribs. Someone knocked on my front door. Niq went to open it and let Heller in, glaring at him with unforgiving eyes.
“Niq, don’t start with me,” Heller warned in the sternest voice I’d ever heard him use on the little teenager. “Matilda has work to do. You might not like it, but that’s her job.”
“You don’t have to send her away. I never see her anymore, anyway,” Niq accused sullenly.
“Niq.” Another warning.
“I hate you, Heller!” And Niq flew out of my flat, slamming the door behind him.
Heller turned to stare at me in bewilderment. “He’s never said that to me before.”
“Well, don’t blame me and don’t look at me like that. I’ve been trying to cheer him up for the last half an hour.”
He sighed. “I’m very unpopular at the moment. I don’t think Daniel is speaking to me because of this and now Niq probably isn’t as well.”
“I don’t feel like speaking to you either. So don’t come to me for sympathy.”
“It’s just an assignment. Why is everyone so angry about it?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re sending me away for two weeks, that’s why! At least you could have let me come home at night. Daniel and Niq are going to miss me terribly and it’s going to be exhausting being on call for that long. You’re cruel.” I shoved my makeup into my suitcase.
“You still don’t know how to pack properly,” he commented with a slight smile, trying to reach out. I glared at him fiercely and continued to throw things in my suitcase in an angry careless manner.
He gave up. “Ready to leave?”
More glaring from me. He threw his hands up in despair and went to pick up my suitcase for me. But I was in such a shitty mood that I grabbed it first (with another glare) and proceeded to lug it down the four flights to the garage myself. About halfway down though, I wished that I hadn’t been so impetuous because it was frigging heavy. I decided that I’d leave it for him to carry up to the hotel suite when we arrived. I sat in stony silence the entire trip to the hotel, arms crossed and staring straight ahead, ignoring his repeated attempts to engage me in conversation.