Heller (28 page)

I nodded and
gave a frustrated laugh. “Seems like forever.”

“There are
plenty of men out there, Matilda. No reason for going without,” he
advised.

“I know, but I
suppose I just want . . .” And once again, I wasn’t able to finish
that sentence.

He waited for
a moment. “What is it that you want?”

I was honest.
“I don’t know.”

“I think
that’s your real problem, Matilda. You don’t know what you want in
life.”

I groaned to
myself – was he going to give me his version of The Lecture? I
readied myself for it, but we continued to drive in silence.
Because he didn’t preach at me, I thought about what he’d said. It
had the unmistakable glimmer of truth about it. I
didn’t
know what I wanted in life. But I knew that I was a little closer
to fulfilment now that I’d started working for him and had a
purpose and a sense of belonging.

He spoke
again. “Your mother should realise that you are a grown woman and
can make your own decisions about your life. Whether they are good
or bad.”

“Tell me about
it!”

“Look, I’ll
make you a deal. I’ll pick you up after your family lunch and meet
your mother then.”

I was taken
aback. “Thank you, Heller. That should shut her up for a
while.”

“I’m only
doing it because it will be enormously entertaining to me. I don’t
imagine for a second that actually meeting me will allay your
mother’s fears at all.” I hadn’t thought of that, but he was right.
Meeting Heller would only make Mum worry about me even more. I
sighed deeply and slouched down in my seat. “But if it will help, I
promise I will swear on a stack of Bibles in front of your mother
that her lovely daughter remains as virginal as the day I met her,”
he teased.

I laughed.
“That’s not saying much!”

“With those
big angelic eyes and that sweet face, I think you look very
virginal. Especially in that outfit.” I was wearing a white
skirt-suit and pale pink shirt buttoned chastely to the neck.

I laughed
again. “You’re very flirty today, Heller. That’s not like you.”

He raised his
eyebrows in astonishment. “No one’s ever accused me of being flirty
before.”

“Probably
because you’ve never had a female staff member before.”

“True. Not
sure if my men would be very keen on flirty.”

“Probably
not,” I smiled. “But I don’t mind it, now and then.”

He smiled back
as he pulled into the carpark of our next appointment location. I
was about to alight from the vehicle when he stopped me, pinning me
with his intense eyes. He suddenly leaned across the vehicle
towards me and slowly unbuttoned the top two fastenings of my
shirt. The touch of his fingers on my skin made my pulse race. He
hesitated on the third button, but pulled his hand away
instead.

“It’s a male
client,” he explained softly, holding my gaze. “I don’t want you
looking too virginal.”

And of course
he was right. It’s amazing what a flash of cleavage can do to a man
because we won that job without even trying. On the way back to the
vehicle, Heller slid his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. I
grinned up at him happily, glad that he was pleased with me for
once.

Sunday rolled
around quickly and Rumbles dropped me at my parents’ house for
lunch, screeching off hastily almost before I’d even shut the door.
He must have heard of my mother’s reputation.

Mum and Dad
have lived in the same modest but comfortable one-story brick house
for the past forty years, since they were newlyweds. It was located
in a solidly middle-class suburb and they’d brought up their three
children there. I was the youngest at twenty-five; my brother
Brian, the oldest, was thirty-eight; and my other brother, Sean,
was thirty-six. I had been an unexpected surprise, a later-age
baby, much loved but a bit of an inconvenience to everyone. Because
of the gap between my brothers and me, I wasn’t particularly close
to either of them. However, my parents were ten times as protective
of me as they had been of my brothers, and I had grown up sheltered
and cosseted, and probably a little spoilt.

My arrival was
loudly announced by my mother’s little silky terrier, Puddles, who
yipped with overexcited enthusiasm before I’d even reached the
screen door. I had to rub and pet and fondle him for a good few
minutes before I was allowed to progress any further.

Both my
brothers were already at the house with their wives – Sean and his
lovely wife, Elise, and Brian and his wife, Gayle, and their two
daughters, aged six and four. I hugged and air-kissed the adults
and tickled the rugrats. My mother fussed around me as if I’d been
away for three years instead of the actual couple of months.

“You’ve
changed so much,” she exclaimed in surprise. “Your hair’s so
glossy. Look at your clothes! And you’ve lost so much weight!”

“Not
that
much,” I protested immediately.

Sean, a tall,
good-looking personal trainer, squeezed my bicep. “The girl’s got
some muscles now.”

“You better
believe it, buddy.” I fisted my hands and got in a few hard jabs at
his own well-muscled arms.

“And loads
more attitude too, by the sound of it,” Gayle drawled unpleasantly.
She was my least favourite family member, and in my mind compared
unfavourably with the good-natured and soft-hearted Elise.

“I think you
look absolutely radiant,” said Elise, smiling fondly. “Working at
that place really agrees with you, Tilly. Tell us everything that
you’ve been doing since you started. Security and surveillance
sounds so exciting!”

I gave them a
brief edited version and caught up on everyone else’s news. Then I
helped Mum serve the lunch. It was the traditional roast lamb with
full trimmings and a baked pudding with custard for dessert. It had
been a while since I had eaten such food and I enjoyed every bite.
And yes, I probably did have one or two glasses of wine too many.
Some things never change.

Afterwards, I
helped Dad with the washing up and we chatted about inconsequential
things. He was retired now and his conversation was completely
centred on golf, his garden, his club and the house. When that was
done and dinner had settled a little, I played for a while with my
nieces, giving them wild piggyback rides up and down the hallway,
Puddles yipping excitedly at my heels the whole time. They were
squealing with delight and Puddles was making a row when I heard
the doorbell ring. I jogged over to the door and flung it open, a
small child firmly attached to my back, her little arms virtually
strangling me, Puddles trying to climb up my jeans for a cuddle. It
was Heller. I’d forgotten he’d promised to pick me up. Puddles took
one look at him and ran off to cower near Mum’s feet.

He stepped
inside warily, taking in my flushed face, bare feet and wild hair.
My little niece was screaming in my ear with joy, in that
excruciating high-pitched squeal possessed only by little children
that instantly ruptures all eardrums in a fifty-metre radius. He
grimaced in pain while I was positive my hearing would never
recover.

“More Aunty
Tilly, more!” she insisted, kicking my sides brutally with her
feet.

“Cara, you’re
strangling me! Not so strong, sweetie!” I choked out as she
tightened her grip around my neck. Heller gently plucked her off my
back and placed her on the ground. She immediately ran off to her
mother, poking her head out at him from behind Gayle’s knees, eyes
huge.

He turned to
me with a mocking half-smile. He looked immensely lickable today in
a tight black, short-sleeved button-up shirt that accentuated his
muscular arms and chest, his customary black jeans but with casual
black sneakers.

“Hello, Aunty
Tilly,” he said.

I scrunched my
nose at him and led him into the living area. The effect he had on
the room was electric. Everyone stopped what they were doing
instantly and turned to stare at him. Either he didn’t notice,
probably used to it after a lifetime of being gawked at, or he did
notice but didn’t care, because he didn’t react at all with any
discomfort at being the centre of attention.

I made the
introductions casually. “Everyone, this is my boss, Heller. Heller,
this is Mum, Dad, my brother Brian, his wife Gayle, my brother Sean
and his wife Elise. You just met my niece Cara, and that little
cutie over there is Libby. They both belong to Brian and Gayle.” I
noticed the other family member. “And that is Puddles, Mum’s
eternal puppy. And I’m sure you can imagine how he came by his
name.”

Heller nodded
briefly at everyone as I introduced them, even deigning to stoop
for a moment to scratch Puddles on the head, the poor animal
trembling at his touch before fleeing to parts unknown. I’d
forgotten for a moment that he already knew everything about my
family, remembering the very comprehensive dossier he’d compiled
about me.

Mum jumped up
from the lounge and rushed forward. “Welcome, Mr Heller. I’ve been
looking forward to meeting you. Oh my!” she exclaimed, eyes
drinking him in. “You’re so tall! And my goodness, look at those
muscles! You must work out a lot, Mr Heller.”

I had a
terrible feeling she was about to reach up and stroke his arm,
captivated by his well-built body.

“Mum!” I
reproved hastily. “Why don’t we make some coffee for us all? I’m
sure Heller would love some coffee.” He gave me a look that I
didn’t care to interpret, but I did not want to witness my mother
hitting on my boss, especially in front of her family. It would be
severely traumatising for all of us. I rushed Mum into the kitchen.
“I’ll help you get everything ready.” And I abandoned Heller to the
rest of my family like the coward I am, figuring he was big enough
to look after himself.

In the
kitchen, clattering cups, saucers, coffee pot, spoons, sugar, milk
and biscuits together at warp speed as if she didn’t want to miss a
second of Heller’s company, Mum commented repeatedly on how tall he
was, how handsome he was, didn’t he have the bluest eyes and had I
noticed his muscles? We carried everything into the living room and
set it up.

Heller was on
the lounge, wedged between Dad, who was regaling him with an
exceptionally tedious story about having security screens fitted to
the windows, and Gayle, who was sitting closer than was normally
considered polite between complete strangers, staring at him
reverently. Elise was more circumspect, sitting on a nearby
armchair, but I noticed that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from
him either, her face flushed with excitement. Sean gave him polite,
respectful attention, while Brian stared at Heller, sizing him up
with an unfriendly look on his face, his arms crossed aggressively
as he leaned against a wall.

Mum shooed Dad
off the lounge and took his spot, pouring Heller coffee,
disappointed that he took it black and unsugared, so she couldn’t
serve him further. She tried to press a biscuit on him. He refused.
She tried again. He refused again. She asked him if he was sure. He
replied that he was.

And then she
fired off a volley of questions at him, barely giving him a chance
to sip his coffee.
How long had he lived in the city, in the
country, on the planet? What did his parents do, where did they
live, how many siblings did he have, what did they do? What was his
work history, did his business make money, was he financially
secure? What was his first name, what did he mean he didn’t use a
first name, was it David, Michael, Paul? Did he own his home, what
was his star sign, his shoe size, did he have any tattoos or scars?
Was he married, had he ever been married, had he ever considered
getting married? Did he date, was he currently dating anybody, what
kind of woman did he prefer to date? What did he think about
children, did he hope to have children one day, how many children
would he have, what would he call his children?
Gayle sat
sulkily by his side, unable to attract his attention.

He suffered
through the bombardment with reasonable patience and good grace,
eyes sliding in my direction on occasion. I admired the skilful and
subtle way he managed to avoid answering most of the questions,
easily diverting my mother with the few answers he did provide. But
he was in a mischievous mood, choosing to only answer the questions
that would get Mum buzzing the most.

He admitted
that he’d never been married nor had any children and wasn’t even
remotely interested in changing the status of either. Mum’s face
fell immediately. He admitted that he only dated casually (which
was a nice, polite way of him saying that he screwed around
extensively) and her face fell even further. But then he
offhandedly added that his ideal kind of woman to date seriously
would be tall and slender, with long wavy dark hair, big brown eyes
and good old-fashioned values. Mum’s eyes lit up with expectation
and future wedding plans, and I shot him a look of pure poison. He
winked at me. I didn’t wink back. He was going to cause me no end
of trouble.

Mum asked him
some more questions, but I think he was mesmerising her with his
icy blues and finally she petered out, exhausted, flopping back on
the lounge. I thought she was going to ask for a cigarette
afterwards as it had been such an intensely enjoyable experience
for her. Eventually though, maybe even later that night, she would
realise that she didn’t know much more about him than she had when
he’d arrived. None of us would.

Gayle perked
up, hoping for her turn to ensnare Heller in her conversational
web, when Sean butted in, quizzing him about his fitness regime.
Sean prides himself on his muscularity, and was impressed enough
with Heller’s magnificence to seek his comment and advice. Heller
muttered his excuses to the ladies on the lounge and moved over to
lean against the wall to talk to Sean for a very detailed ten
minutes on repetitions, cut abs, Lorna Jane sportsware and Zumba
classes. Nah, I’m just making up that last bit. I don’t know what
they were talking about because I was dragged into the kitchen by
the female members of the family who were all, “oh my God, he is
so
gorgeous”, “you must bring him around more often”, “that
accent is so intriguing, where’s he from?” and “when can I come and
visit you and would Mr Heller be there?” I rapidly reached a point
where I’d had enough of everyone drooling over him, and marched
into the lounge room in an antsy mood.