Heller's Girlfriend (9 page)

Her face took on a dreamy cast.
“It wasn’t all bad times, of course. When he was in a good mood
with me, it was so wonderful. He could be incredibly tender and
loving.” She sighed and slammed back her third glass of wine. “I
suppose that’s why I stayed with him for so long.”

Her words had started to slur as
she spoke, her eyes blurring with well-deserved tears. I helped her
to her feet and then into bed. She was adamant that she didn’t want
me to stay, so after clearing up the dishes and leaving them
outside the room for the hotel staff to collect, I called Heller
and waited in the foyer for my ride. Heller picked me up himself
and I spent the trip home telling him about my adventures with
Warburton.

“More trouble tomorrow?” he
asked, concern clear in his voice.

“No. I’m sure he’s well aware of
the dollar cost of his actions,” I said confidently. “It’s probably
the only thing he does care about.”

“Okay, but I want to be kept
fully informed of all developments,” he commanded.

“Of course,” I replied dryly as
we pulled into the driveway of the Warehouse.

We walked up the stairs together
and he left me at my place, telling me he was going out that night.
Every couple of weeks or so he went out to get laid, his preference
being bored or lonely women staying at the top-end hotels in the
city. He would pick up a different one each time in the hotel bar,
and spend the night with her in her room making all her erotic
dreams come true, before returning home in the early hours of the
morning. He never stayed all night with them, not trusting anyone
enough to fall asleep with them. He also never brought anyone back
to the Warehouse, being almost paranoid about security.

Obviously, due to his incredible
good looks, he never had any trouble picking up women. I know from
what he’d told me that some of the women he met liked it very rough
indeed. He was happy to oblige, and for him, morals never came into
it. He didn’t care whether the women were married or in
relationships or had children, because for him, it was just pure
release. Emotions never entered the equation either.

I knew all this because he was
disarmingly honest about his sexual activities, if not about other
aspects of his life. All of us knew when Heller was out on the
prowl, and I was usually ‘privileged’ enough to receive a summary
of his romps from him the next day, whether I wanted to hear about
it or not.

Forcing a smile on my face, I
wished him well for his forthcoming carnal activities, crushing the
sharp stab of jealousy that ripped through me. I had no claim on
him and no cause to be jealous, I reminded myself harshly.

After a quick dinner, I rang my
parents, promising to visit them soon, and I almost even meant it.
I hit the sack early, trying not to let my mind dwell on Heller and
what he’d be currently doing and who he’d be doing it to.

The next morning was a repeat of
the previous day. I met Patricia at her hotel and we waited for
Corella in the foyer before being whisked away, somehow managing to
survive her scary driving to arrive unscathed at the mediation
centre. The nervous mediator was waiting for us once more, not
looking particularly thrilled at that moment with his choice of
employment. We sat in the dreary waiting room, with varying levels
of patience, for Mr Warburton to show up again.

His strident voice floated down
the hall before him, but it had a different tenor. I believed I
could detect a note of victory, rather than the angst at being late
that dominated his voice the previous day. The reason for his
smugness soon became apparent, and I gave him a point for
strategy.

Preceding him into the room was
his own security officer, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late
twenties with thick, wavy black hair and eyes so dark blue in
colour they almost appeared black. The first thing I noticed was
that he was very attractive; the second was that he was wearing the
dark blue trousers and pale blue buttoned shirt of Heller’s bitter
rival business, Select Security.

We sized each other up in an
instant and he nodded at me curtly, a professional courtesy I
hadn’t expected from a Select staffer, given the hostile
relationship between the two businesses.

I nodded back, equally
brusque.

Warburton said in an overloud
voice while pointing at me aggressively, “That’s her! You make sure
she stays away from me.” Then to me in a nasty tone, “He’ll crack
your fucking head open if you come anywhere near me again.”

The Select man rolled his eyes
behind his client’s back, and I took an immediate liking to
him.

Warburton then turned his words
of wisdom on Patricia. “I’m thinking of getting a restraining order
against you for setting that bitch on me yesterday, Tricia.”

Corella wasn’t letting that go.
“I wouldn’t suggest you go down that path, Mr Warburton. There were
a number of witnesses to yesterday’s fracas who will swear on oath
that
you
were the one who attacked this young lady first by
pushing her in the chest. That you then physically assaulted her
and that she was only attempting to restore some order to the
situation when she kneed you in the ba . . . er . . .
testicles.”

My smile at Warburton was sweet
and innocent – St Matilda the Peacemaker. His face reddened even
further with anger. I thought I saw the Select man’s mouth tremble
in suppressed amusement, before he resumed his flat, expressionless
demeanour. It was so fleeting though that I couldn’t say for sure I
hadn’t only imagined it.

“It doesn’t matter what you
fucking think. I’m entitled to hire a security guard if I feel that
my safety will be compromised by my wife’s actions,” he snarled
back. He glared at me. “And that bitch just better keep her
distance.”

I yawned ostentatiously when he
finished his tirade, and leaned back in my chair, stretching my
legs out in front of me. I crossed my ankles with practiced
nonchalance, laced my hands behind my head and stared at Warburton.
He clenched his fists and turned to the Select man.

“Can you see that? She’s fucking
harassing
me!” he blustered. “Get her to stop it or I’m
calling the police.” We all stared at him then, until the absurdity
of his comment finally sank into his thick skull. “Are we going to
start this fucking meeting or not? I haven’t got all day to waste
like some people,” he shouted and pushed past the mediator to barge
into the negotiation room.

Everyone reluctantly followed,
except for the Select man. I settled Patricia in the room, before
sitting down again outside in the waiting area. The Select man
remained standing for a while, his height intimidating from my
lower vantage point. I wasn’t too daunted though, as I spent most
of my days surrounded by gigantic men. Eventually he took a seat
opposite and looked at me.

“Bick Barnes,” he said, offering
his hand.

His manners pleasantly surprised
me. I leaned over and took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Tilly
Chalmers.”

“Tilly? That’s an unusual
name.”

I smiled. “I was just about to
say the same about Bick. Mine’s short for Matilda, my
great-grandmother’s name. I hate it.”

He smiled back, and it was a
very nice smile. I suddenly had an enormous desire to make him
smile again.

“Mine’s short for Bickley, an
old family name. The oldest son of the oldest son traditionally is
cursed with it as his first name. My father decided to revive the
tradition when he came to this country even though nobody else
cares about it any more, and it hasn’t been used for years. I
haven’t the heart to tell him the tradition won’t continue, as I
have absolutely no intention of ever having children.
Especially
if I have to call them Bickley.”

I laughed. “I’m with you there.”
He didn’t need to know I’d been told that I would probably never
have children anyway.
Didn’t mean that I’d wanted them in the
first place
, I told myself fiercely.

We sat in silence for a
while.

“I’ve heard it’s good to work at
Heller’s
.”

“I’ve no complaints.” I wouldn’t
talk about Heller to the competition, no matter how cute he
was.

“I’ve heard he treats his staff
fairly and respects his clients.”

“You could do worse. He can be a
real hardarse when he wants though.”

“I can handle that. I just can’t
stand unethical behaviour. Do you know my boss?”

“Big, ugly bastard.”

Bick laughed. “You’ve met him
then.”

I nodded. As I’ve said before, I
had no reason to be fond of Chris Kirnin, the owner of Select
Security. He was the man responsible for my lack of options about
having children.

“I’m not sure I agree with some
of his recent business decisions. Some of our clients are very
dodgy. I’d love to abandon ship. Do you know if Heller is hiring at
the moment?”

“I’ll ask him. Give me your
phone number and I’ll let you know. He’s always looking out for
good men.”

“Thanks, Tilly. I really
appreciate that.” He smiled again. I had to remind myself that I
had a boyfriend and had no cause to be so impressed by a
good-looking man with a cute smile and beautiful eyes.

He pulled out a Select business
card from his wallet and wrote his mobile number on the back. I
searched through my pockets for a
Heller’s
card and wrote my
name and number on the back and handed it to him. Another smile. I
wondered if he knew its effect on women. He appeared to be
naturally friendly, but you could never be sure with men.

“The
Heller’s
uniform is
so much cooler than Select’s,” he admitted grudgingly. “I’m sick of
looking like a cop wannabe.” It was true. His uniform’s similarity
to a police uniform was no mistake, his boss obviously trying to
force an aura of instant authority on his staff. I was surprised
Select hadn’t been sued by the cops for copyright infringement.

I laughed. “How incredibly
shallow of you, Bick. That sounds like something I’d say!”

Another smile from him and
another silence, although I was aware that he glanced over at me a
few times. Abruptly, the door to the mediation room crashed open
and Warburton stormed out to take a phone call. We both half-rose
from our seats.

“No,
you
look!” he
shouted into the receiver. “I told that dickhead that if he didn’t
accept my fucking offer by last Friday then I was taking it off the
table. So you can tell him to shove his counteroffer up his arse.
I’m no longer fucking interested. Do you understand or are you
completely stupid? No? Good!”

He stamped back into the room,
slamming the door, not even sparing us a glance. We sat down
again.

“Your client’s a real charmer,
isn’t he?” I commented.

“A veritable prince amongst
men,” Bick replied dryly. “Did you really knee him in the balls
yesterday?”

“Yeah, but he deserved it. The
jerk was groping my boobs.”

He raised his eyebrows in
amusement. “I wish I’d been here to see that! He’s really pissed
off at you. I think he was hoping you’d have another go at him, so
he could ask me to beat you up.”

I looked him up and down. “I
hope not. I wouldn’t like to tangle with you. You’d have me for
breakfast.”

“I think I might enjoy tangling
with you actually, Tilly Chalmers.” Another smile. A bit shyer this
time?

I smiled back. “Are you flirting
with me, Bickley Barnes?”

“I’m trying to, but obviously
not doing a very subtle job.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“That’s okay. He’s not here and
I promise I won’t tell him.”

I shook my head, smiling. “You
guys.”

He shook his head in
mock-contrition. “Us guys.”

My phone rang and I answered. It
was Heller, of course.

“Everything all right,
Matilda?”

“So far, so good. He’s been
mouthing off a bit, but hasn’t laid a hand on me yet.”

“Good.”

“Something interesting though,”
and I smiled at Bick. “He’s hired a Select man to protect himself
from me.” And I’m sure that even Bick could hear Heller’s shout of
laughter ringing down the line. I had to hold the phone from my ear
momentarily.

“It’s not funny, Heller,” I said
crankily, and turned around so Bick couldn’t hear any more of the
conversation. “He’s serious. He’s scared of me. He wants to bait me
so this guy beats me up. And he’s big.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.
I’m going to come over to check on you.”

“No! Don’t you dare!
Everything’s okay,” I whispered furiously.

“Matilda.”

“I said, don’t you dare. You
never go and check on any of the men, so don’t even start thinking
you’re going check on me!”

He exhaled heavily, his
familiar, long-suffering sigh noisy in my ear. “Calm down please,
Matilda. Ring me the second the job’s finished for the day. And if
anything
happens, ring me. Promise.”

“I promise.” I paused and became
sweeter instantly. “Thank you, Heller.”

He sighed again. “Matilda. You
drive me crazy sometimes.”

“Only sometimes? I’m
disappointed in myself.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll see you
later. Take care.”

We hung up. I turned back to
Bick, who’d been listening in on my conversation with a deplorable
lack of manners that would have shamed his mother.

“Heller would appreciate it if
you didn’t beat me up,” I smiled.

“Well, I can’t promise
anything,” he teased. “I’ll try not to, but only if you promise not
to beat
me
up. I’m a little concerned for the safety of my
family jewels.”

I giggled. “Agreed.” I leaned
forward and held my hand out again and he shook it, sealing the
deal.

We didn’t get to say another
word as the door to the negotiation room slammed back and Warburton
stormed out again. This time though, his insults were hurled over
his shoulder at Patricia. His lawyer, clearly appalled by whatever
had just occurred, followed him meekly. Warburton stopped and
turned to berate Patricia some more.