Heller's Girlfriend (27 page)

“Well, I’ve reappeared now, so
you can see her tonight instead. That should shut her up.”

“No, I don’t want to see her
tonight. I want to watch you and Farrell training. I want to make
sure you’re learning.”

“Oh no! I’d forgotten about
that. I’ve arranged to see Will tonight. I guess I’ll have to go to
his place a bit later. I hope Farrell takes it easy on me.”

“I didn’t ask him to be easy
with you, Matilda. I want you to learn some skills. You attract
more trouble than anyone I’ve ever met.”

I didn’t think that was fair. It
wasn’t as if I deliberately went looking for trouble. And I did
seem to meet more than my fair share of aggressive jerks.

Heller kidnapped me for the rest
of the day and we spent it visiting clients, making sure that
everything was running smoothly. I turned on the charm because
after all, without them, I wouldn’t have a job. And to my delight,
he didn’t mention Vanessa once. We even managed to resume our usual
flirty banter in between visits, both of us parting for the day
with smiles on our faces.

I suddenly felt good about life
again – until I remembered my upcoming training session with
Farrell.

I made sure I was in the gym
before him. True to his word, Heller turned up and watched for the
entire hour, throwing in some good advice and hints occasionally.
Farrell even used him at one point to give me some tips on dealing
with two assailants at the same time, but I didn’t think I was
alone in hoping that I’d never have to cope with such a
situation.

Although Farrell was freshly off
his crutches and I’d just recovered from some serious burns, he
didn’t go easy on me. By the end of the session, I was totally worn
out and lay on the mat, red-faced again and gasping for air.
Farrell was drenched in sweat and Heller congratulated him for
working me so hard. Farrell took the praise without comment, his
expression not changing by even one tic of a muscle. The man was
made of rock.

“Go have a shower and I’ll drive
you to Armstrong’s place,” Heller offered. I dragged myself
upstairs, had a shower in record time, and donned a very pretty
strapless dress. He dropped me off and volunteered to pick me up
later as well. I turned him down, planning on making my own way
home after spending the night.

Will greeted me very
affectionately, helping me forget my angst about his recent neglect
and him not being contactable. As soon as the front door closed, he
pinned me up against it, kissing me ardently. He ran his hands up
and down my body, lingering on my boobs and butt. I could feel his
hard erection through our clothes and grabbed his butt, grinding
his hips into mine, lifting up one leg to wrap around him so he
could rub against me even closer. He yanked down the bodice of my
dress and freed my bra-less breasts, leaning down to caress my
nipples with his mouth. I groaned in pleasure and pulled his
t-shirt over his head, kissing his neck and chest.

He reached under my dress,
stroking me until I almost exploded with bliss. Between us, we
urgently tugged off my panties. He dropped his pants, pushed my
dress up and greedily rammed himself into me. He banged me so hard
that the front door shook. When I came I didn’t hold back, letting
him know just how much I loved it. He announced his orgasm with a
final brutal thrust and a shout of ecstasy.

We collapsed onto each other and
staggered over to his lounge to recover, holding hands.

“God, I love screwing you,
Tilly,” he panted and drew me closer to nibble on my nearest
nipple. “You’re so hot. I love the way you scream. You really get
into it. You can tell you’re not faking.”
Hmm, that wasn’t very
romantic, but I guess you have to take a compliment where you find
one.

He noticed my few remaining
wounds and started fussing.

Too little, too late,
buddy
, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking.

“It was nothing,” I lied. If he
couldn’t be bothered finding out what had happened to me, I
couldn’t be bothered telling him.

“I hate your job. It’s so
dangerous. You’re always being injured.”

“I’m afraid that’s an
unavoidable risk in my job.”

“And you’re always hanging
around with those big guys. I feel like a wimp every time I have to
stand next to one of them,” he complained.

“No wimp could make me feel as
good as you just did,” I flattered him shamelessly, not wanting to
get into yet another discussion about my inconvenient life. He
lapped it up, and I made sure that the rest of the night was so
passionate and wild that he was soon too exhausted to bitch any
more. Maybe our relationship was based on nothing but sex, but
sometimes that seemed like an excellent thing. And tonight was one
of those nights.

The next morning while Will was
in the shower, I checked my phone and found a text from Heller
offering to pick me up. I was strongly tempted to make him come and
get me, but decided instead to catch the bus home. I lived in such
an unusual and isolated environment that I believed it was good for
me (and the others when I could convince them) to continue to do
ordinary things that ordinary people do all the time. So I kissed
Will goodbye as he drove off to work and walked to the bus stop. It
had been a long time since I’d had to catch a bus, and I can’t say
that I’d ever had any regrets about that.

It wasn’t such a good idea in
retrospect. I had the unmistakable look of a woman who hadn’t been
home the night before, and I was conscious of my odour, having
screwed all night. I should have showered at Will’s but I preferred
to go home and change there. The pretty dress I wore last night was
conspicuously not off-to-work gear, and my bra-less boobs attracted
far too much attention for my comfort. It was a relief to reach my
stop, but the walk back to the Warehouse in my flimsy high heels
was painful and slow. I ended up taking them off and carried them
dangling in my hand, which only made me appear even more of a dirty
stop-out.

Four men stood in the doorway to
the security office chatting as I opened the front door and entered
the Warehouse. They broke off their conversation and watched me as
I began climbing the stairs. I gave them a half-hearted wave and
knew that Heller would be informed in about one second flat that
I’d returned home. The shower was my first destination and the
second was my kitchen. I was ravenous after all the evening’s
carnal activities and made myself a big breakfast.

I expected Heller to bother me
any minute, quizzing me on my evening, but he never came. It only
confirmed my view that he’d stopped taking an interest in me,
regardless of what he said. I couldn’t ignore the miserable
emotions that swamped me and threw my breakfast away, only
half-eaten.

In the office, I pretended to be
absorbed in my work when Heller arrived, so I didn’t have to
acknowledge him. However, he wasn’t letting me off that easily and
stood by my desk, piercing me with his icy blue stare. He looked
tired.

“Did you have a pleasant night,
my sweet?”

I gave him a dazzling smile,
hiding my feelings. “I had a wonderful night. How about you?”

“Been out all night.”

I raised my eyebrows, paying no
attention to the stab of jealousy that hit me. “Oh, so you had a
great night then as well.”

“No. There was a break-in at one
of the big construction sites downtown.” He told me the name of the
client – it was one of his most important ones, so always received
personal attention from him. “Clive and I were busy there nearly
all night. We only just arrived home.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Oh.” I felt guilty about
jumping to conclusions when he didn’t visit me earlier this
morning. “You should get some sleep.”

I hadn’t seen his sexy
half-smile for a while. I’d forgotten how much it made my stomach
roll. “So should you probably. Want to join me?”

“Heller! Don’t be so naughty.”
But my responding smile was genuinely happy. It was just like old
times. “Anyway I’m far too exhausted after last night. I wouldn’t
join you in bed without first having a solid week of good sleep,
emergency rations and a back-up mobile.”

He laughed as he walked into his
office. “I’ve always said you were a smart woman.”

His mobile rang as he walked
away. He didn’t rush to answer it and I wondered if it was Vanessa
again. Talk about clingy!

The next couple of days passed
quietly and I used the spare time I had to potter around,
organising things and catching up on paper work. I had another
session with Farrell on Thursday night. Again I made sure I was
there earlier than him.

“Hello Hugh!” I grinned cheekily
at him when he arrived. I had finally remembered to ask Daniel to
look up his first name for me.

He grimaced. “Farrell.”

“Hugh.”

“Farrell.”

“I’m going to call you Hugh as
long as you keep calling me Chalmers.”

His face was deliberately bland.
“We’ll just have to see who cracks first then, won’t we,
Chalmers?”

“We will, won’t we, Hugh?”

And the game was on. I used his
first name as often as possible during the next hour, delighted to
see how much it irritated him. He took it out on me by working me
extra hard, but I did everything he ordered without complaining. At
the end, my face bright red, hair dripping with sweat and muscles
screaming in pain, I flashed a brilliant smile.

“Thanks, Hugh. That was
fantastic!”

“Next time, Chalmers,” he
grunted and stalked out of the gym.

“Bye, Hugh! And thanks again,
Hugh,” I called sweetly after him, then collapsed on the floor in
agony once I was sure he’d left for good. God, I was dying! What a
hard man he was, even after everything we’d been through
together.

On Saturday afternoon, Heller,
Clive and I drove downtown to meet Yoni Lemere who was staying at
the city’s modern six-star hotel. Her arrival earlier that morning
had caused a melee at the airport. Before we left, we’d watched
television footage that showed her besieged by international
paparazzi and local media. Only the six
Heller’s
men
protectively surrounding her prevented her from being completely
swallowed up. You could barely see the top of her head over the
scrum and even our hulking security men struggled to push her
through the crowd safely.

Clive grunted disapproval as we
watched the TV. “Going to be a tough gig with that bunch of hyenas
hanging around.”

“Make sure your men are well
briefed. I don’t want any incidents between us and the media.”

“Gotcha, Boss.”

At the hotel, we were ushered
into her luxurious executive suite by a glum-faced, stressed and
dowdy personal assistant and shown to a lush sitting room. Which is
what we did for the next twenty minutes – we sat in silence waiting
for Yoni Lemere to appear. Bored, I moved over to the window,
glancing out. To my surprise a throng of people crammed into every
vantage point out the front of the hotel.

At the sight of a female face at
the window, the crowd screamed with excitement. I waved in a
friendly way that made them scream even more and set off a barrage
of flashes from cameras and phones. I hurriedly sat back down
again.

“What are you doing, Matilda?”
Heller asked with resigned patience.

“Stirring up the fans,” I
admitted sheepishly.

“Well, stop it,” he
demanded.

“Gotcha, Boss.” I winked at
Clive. He stared back at me, his face as unresponsive as a dead
fish.

Yoni finally made her
appearance, every inch the Hollywood star, severely thin and
perfectly groomed. She had glorious flowing blonde locks, sapphire
blue eyes, clear skin that glowed surreally, and exclusive designer
clothes draping her tall body. She was only in her mid-thirties,
but it was rumoured in the trashy gossip magazines that I never
read (honestly!) that she was a regular Botox user and had already
succumbed to nose and boob jobs. And maybe a tummy tuck. And a
thigh resculpture.

She ruined her own, possibly
carefully planned, entrance by stopping short when she spotted
Heller’s own supernatural magnificence. Instant lust flared in her
eyes. I covertly checked out Heller’s reaction, and could tell that
he was definitely interested. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity
like her if it was offered to him. And apparently it was going to
be, on a silver platter.

He rose and shook her hand
politely, lavishing her with a full blast of his beautiful wintry
eyes, and introduced himself, Clive and me. She clung to his hand
for an embarrassingly long time and didn’t even cast her eyes in
Clive’s or my direction, let alone acknowledge us, her complete
attention intensely focussed on Heller.

Heller explained the security
he’d arranged for her during her week’s visit. As he spoke, she sat
closely next to him on the sumptuous lounge, her hand on his arm,
staring at him the entire time. It was hard to tell if she was
listening or not. She didn’t spare me a glance when Heller
explained that I’d be staying with her 24/7. I pulled a stupid face
and waggled my hands around, but she still didn’t notice me. I
shrugged and smiled at Clive, who again responded with his dead
fish face.

Heller eventually stood up,
swiftly followed by Clive. He promised Yoni that he’d return on the
last night of her stay, and the meaningful glance that passed
between them was not a figment of my imagination. She smiled
triumphantly, while he showed his satisfaction at the arrangement
with a faintly smug expression that I wanted to wipe off his face.
I didn’t doubt for a minute that she thought Heller would be
banging her brains out on Friday night. I didn’t doubt for a minute
that he would be.

But before he left, he took me
to one side for a minute.

“Take care in the crowds,
Matilda. And keep in contact with the security team. And me too,
please.” He squeezed my hand tightly and kissed me on the
forehead.