Heller's Girlfriend (7 page)

Finished dressing, I threw
myself back on the bed and happily snuggled against him. He kissed
my forehead and stroked my hair, throwing his leg over mine.

“Are you thinking about the
scary movie any more?”

“No,” I realised, reluctantly
amused. “I’m not.”

“A job well done then.”

“Heller, don’t pretend all this
happened to take my mind off a scary movie!”

He laughed again and we held
each other silently for a while.

“I hear you were given an
Employee of the Day award today,” he teased. I groaned – it was
impossible to keep anything secret in this place. Especially with
Niq around – the kid was commendably, but sometimes inconveniently,
truthful. “At a business where you’re not even employed. Very
impressive, my sweet.”

“It was all just a
misunderstanding,” I sighed. “But I’m kind of proud of that award
in any case. It’s not like I’ll ever get one working here.”

“Probably not.”

“Heller! You could at least lie
a little!”

“But didn’t you just say that
women like men to be honest with them?” He sounded confused.

“We do. Except when we want you
to lie a little.”

“Matilda, sometimes your logic
makes my head hurt.”

“Oh, you men! You never
understand anything.”

He didn’t respond and soon I was
drowsing, almost asleep when he spoke again. I guess he’d been
mulling over our earlier conversation.

“Matilda?”

“Mmm?” I replied sleepily.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure.”

“Can you at least write down all
your rules for me?

I laughed and moved nearer to
him. He kissed me and closed his eyes, falling asleep promptly, a
talent that always made me jealous. I stayed awake for a while,
despite my wonderful release at his fingers, watching him while he
slept and thinking about our ‘relationship’.

Most people would say that it
was wrong for me to be fooling around with him and sleeping next to
him when I had a boyfriend, but it didn’t feel wrong to me. In
fact, being in his bed felt very right, and I wasn’t prepared to
stop doing it, not even for Will. I figured that as long as I
didn’t actually sleep with Heller, then I wasn’t being unfaithful
to Will, no matter what else we did with each other.

And what did Will think about
Heller and me? I solved that very tricky problem by not telling him
anything about us at all.

Chapter 5

The next morning he was gone as
usual even though I woke up early to hit the gym. I was hard on
myself to work out some of my leftover lust. I staggered up the
stairs to my flat afterwards, dripping with sweat, to jump in the
shower and make a quick breakfast. I wasn’t expected anywhere for
work today, so dressed casually in jeans, t-shirt and runners,
pulling my long hair into a ponytail, before heading down to the
office on the second floor.

I checked my emails, deleting
all the spam, including most of the emails from my family. Dixie
had sent me a very naughty email with a photo of the aftermath of
another lewd nerd orgy she’d had with Jon and Don, the two
engineering PhD students with whom she shared a dingy flat. The men
both lay sprawled inelegantly on Dixie’s bed, fast asleep, their
flaccid dicks nestled like baby birds in their pubic hair nests. It
turned my stomach. Dixie insisted they were secretly gay and just
used her as an excuse to screw each other. But I think she was
becoming addicted to having two men at once, no matter how
uncommitted they were to her. I would have to catch up with her
soon and sort her out in person.

Daniel and Niq arrived together,
closely followed by Heller, who threw me a sly wink as he walked
past into his office. I quickly deleted the offending photo from my
hard drive and industriously applied myself to tidying up the
reports on some little jobs I’d had in the last few weeks, so that
Daniel could finalise the accounts. I did a lot of one-off
assignments for Heller, mostly escorting the wives of rich men in
town for business. I usually kept them busy sightseeing, shopping
and lunching. Heller only dealt with top-end clients, so money was
no object for these women and it was usually a luxurious experience
for me.

Strangely enough though, I never
felt any envy at their lifestyle, having witnessed enough misery,
cheating, possible abuse and mutual disdain between the women and
their husbands to put me off marriage for life. I’d found that it
was true that money didn’t buy happiness, but I certainly aimed to
bring a bit of laughter and fun into those women’s lives for the
brief time they were here in the city, even if it was wickedly sexy
fun they craved. The only thing I refused to supply was anything
illegal – Heller’s rules. Otherwise I found and gave them what they
wanted. I was no prude, and I’d seen plenty since I’d started
working for Heller, but some of their requests even surprised me.
There were always unexpected expenses (mostly male sex workers,
sometimes female, sometimes both) that had to be disguised and
added to the final bill. My discreetness and willingness to procure
legal buzzes made
Heller’s
a popular choice for visiting
rich wives. Happy clients not only tipped me well, but recommended
me to other women, so there was a constant trickle of work in that
arena.

I had just finished when it was
time for our weekly staff meeting. Daniel, Sid, Clive and I
gathered in Heller’s office to discuss business. Daniel ran through
any new enquiries and confirmed new contracts since the last
meeting. When he’d finished, he left an excited Sid to further
sketch out the background of a major new ongoing surveillance
contract with a leading construction company to oversee their many
building sites. Business picked up each month, which must have been
gratifying for Heller, having risked everything and worked so
relentlessly to break into what was a tight dog-eat-dog market. His
efforts hadn’t been without repercussions though, some of which had
impacted on me personally.

I glanced at him to gauge his
reaction to the new contracts. A hint of a smile was the only
indication he showed that he was pleased on hearing the good news.
My Heller had a wonderful poker face.

“And then there is the new
assignment. Heller, do you want to talk about that?” deferred
Daniel. Heller turned immediately to look at me.

“Matilda, a job for you.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“A socially prominent married
couple is currently going through a divorce. They’ve decided to try
negotiation before taking it to court as they can’t come to an
agreement about the split of assets. But she’s alleged abuse in the
past and wants a security presence during the negotiations.”

I was familiar with the
terminology. ‘Security presence’ meant the client was slightly
afraid for their safety, but not enough to want others to know they
were afraid. Usually I was asked to dress in civvies in those
situations so that nobody knew a security firm had been employed.
In those jobs, I was often more companion than bodyguard.

“She wants you to be present in
uniform at her hotel at ten tomorrow. You’ll escort her to the
initial meeting between the parties.”

“Full uniform. Noted,” I said
with surprise.

“It’ll be all right,” he
assured. “She’s only being cautious. I spoke to her this morning.
She’s not expecting any trouble from her soon-to-be
ex-husband.”

“Okay.” I trusted him not to
intentionally send me into any dangerous situations.

The meeting broke up, but before
everyone dispersed I quickly asked if anyone had time for some
hand-to-hand training with me. I desperately wanted to improve my
combat skills, concentrating on self-defence. I’d started with
Daniel, as we were of a similar tall and lean build, but was now
confident in being able to subdue someone his size by myself. I
needed to practice on bigger men. Problem was that there were few
medium-sized men employed at
Heller’s
. Most of the security
men were built like tanks, so there was no gradual progression
available for me.

I’d taken on Heller a few times,
but our sessions either turned into gratuitous grope-fests or he
was afraid to hurt me and wouldn’t take me on seriously. Sid flatly
refused, apologetically explaining that he wasn’t relaxed about the
thought of possibly injuring me. Clive had taken me seriously, but
had nearly killed me the one time we’d tangled, flinging me across
the gym where I’d landed hard on my back. I’d been completely
winded and unable to properly breathe or move for a long while,
afraid I’d broken my spine. I hadn’t stood a chance against him.
Unfortunately Heller had walked into the gym at that point and
Clive had received a right royal reaming from him afterwards, even
though I told him it had been my fault because I’d taunted Clive to
“bring it on”. Wouldn’t be doing
that
again.

I had no takers. Nobody wanted
to be responsible for teaching me by potentially hurting me.

“Heller, I
need
this
training,” I complained to him. “If nobody here is willing to train
me, then I need to go outside to find someone. What about the gym
where Niq and Daniel do their martial arts training? Could you set
someone up for me there?”

I could tell immediately that he
was uncomfortable with the thought of me finding any expertise
outside his small, contained world.

He looked at Clive. “Isn’t there
anyone in security who won’t kill Matilda? What about that ex-SAS
man? He’s fairly wiry.”

Clive considered. “He’s very
strong, but I think he’s done some training before. He might be
willing to teach Tilly. I’ll send him up later for you to talk to
him.”

He nodded to Clive, then turned
to me. “I’ll let you know, Matilda. Okay?”

I nodded reluctantly. I had
really hoped to fit some training in that afternoon, before my new
assignment tomorrow. But I knew better than to argue with Heller,
especially when he was trying to help me. So I spent the rest of
the day trifling at my desk, then pottering in my flat, doing more
tidying, cleaning and washing. Even though I’d lived in it for a
while now, I still appreciated the peace and brightness of my
little living space, not forgetting the damp and scungy flat that
I’d previously shared with Dixie and the PhD students.

That night, Niq and Daniel
invited themselves over for dinner again. I sent them on various
chores to the pantry and herb garden, instructing them to chop and
slice ingredients, until I was sitting at my kitchen bench, a cold
glass of wine nearby, directing the entire dinner. I didn’t think
they realised that I’d turned the tables so neatly on them, even
making them wash up the dirty dishes afterwards without
complaining.

I went to bed early and woke
early to hit the gym before work. Heller dropped me at my client’s
hotel himself, before heading off to meet with some prospective new
clients. I made my way to her room and confidently rapped on the
door.

An anxious blonde woman opened
the door, looked around her cautiously before inviting me in. She
was in her mid-forties, disturbingly thin with a pretty but drawn
face. She wore a sombre charcoal dress, low black heels,
skin-coloured stockings and discreet pearls. Her baby blue eyes
widened in apprehension as she took me in. My height, well-toned
body, hair firmly up in a bun, and my all-black
Heller’s
uniform seemed to intimidate her. I smiled at her in a friendly way
to dispel the grim image I projected and she visibly relaxed.

“Hello, I’m Tilly Chalmers. I’ll
be with you until your negotiations are finished.”

“Hello, Tilly,” she said softly.
“I’m Patricia Warburton. Thanks for agreeing to accompany me. I
feel better already.” I thought it was a strange way of expressing
our relationship. She was paying Heller a lot of money for me to
accompany her – so of course I agreed to do it. I didn’t really
have much say in the matter.

She collected her handbag and we
caught the lift down to the foyer to wait for her lawyer to arrive
and escort us to the resolution centre. We weren’t kept waiting too
long (only about $600 worth of time in lawyer terms), before that
esteemed member of the legal profession made her appearance.

She was a hard-faced woman in
her mid-thirties with a black, severe-fringed bob, a well-cut but
glaringly bright yellow designer suit, stupendously high heels,
bright red lipstick and an unmistakable fuck-you attitude. Patricia
introduced us; her name was Corella Moon. I nodded politely. She
glanced at me as if I was a piece of gum on her shoe, then ignored
me, talking to Patricia in a harsh, fast voice about tactics for
the day’s meeting.

I trailed them out of the foyer
and sat in the back seat of Corella’s red Audi convertible. She
took off with a squeal of tyres and barked out instructions to
Patricia the whole way. She barely concentrated on her driving,
nearly rear-ending an ambulance at an intersection. She didn’t even
notice, but I sat white-knuckled, glad when we finally pulled into
the parking lot of a drab office block. There was no chance of me
forgetting that car accident when faced with driving like
Corella’s.

I gathered from what I’d
overheard of the women’s conversation that we were meeting in the
office of a government-sponsored mediation service. It existed
mostly to provide neutral ground and an impartial referee for
warring parties, in a vain attempt to ultimately reduce the
caseload on the Family Court. Corella skidded to an abrupt stop,
all of us thrown forward in our seats, and parked crookedly across
two parking spots. I walked next to Patricia as we entered the
building, my eyes peeled for any trouble.

We were directed at reception to
a small, depressingly drab waiting area with brown vinyl flooring
and rickety chairs. We perched on them uneasily, waiting for the
other party to show up to the meeting.