by JD Nixon
“I have spiders!” I sobbed incoherently when I was free.
“Eek!” screamed one of the fathers, waving his hands and backing away. “She’s covered in spiders. Oh God, I hate spiders! Get her away from me. Get her away. Get her away!”
“Get them off me!” I jigged around in front of everyone, swiping at myself and spitting onto the carpet, undignified and frankly, slightly insane.
Elton took control with confidence and composure. Mabel had, in the meantime, trotted out to see what the commotion was, her antenna finely tuned to any disasters on her precious opening day. She was aghast at the scene that confronted her.
“Take Tilly for a shower. Now,” Elton ordered her. He turned to two museum staff who’d navigated the down escalator to reach the top. “You two, call the costume shop. Get someone over here now. Then direct people traffic. Turn that down escalator into an up escalator and make sure the lift is only used for departures. One way in each direction. I’ll be back soon to take over and make sure everything is returned to normal.”
Then he placed his arm around my shoulders and rushed me to where Mabel was urgently directing, soothing me all the while, “You’ll be okay, Tilly. You’ll be all right.”
He was so masterful that now I saw why Heller had employed him and why Clive and his colleagues appreciated him so much. Because while they had warned me about him, there was much respect in their bantering that I’d failed to notice on first pass. And I bet there hadn’t been even a quarter as much respect in their warnings to him about me.
But right then I didn’t care about gender politics in the workplace – I just needed a shower.
Mabel took us down the corridor, past the dino display, to a ‘staff only’ room where she ushered me towards a bathroom. I stripped off my undies almost before Elton had closed the door on his big eyes, and jumped under a streaming jet of hot water to flush all those arachnids from my body. I rinsed everything three times, including my hair, sure there were still some stubborn survivors ready to invade my brain when I was asleep tonight.
Mabel found a spare towel for me and had kindly shaken my undies free of any stray spiders. But even then, I inspected them closely before I donned them and gladly put on my Heller’s uniform again, feeling more professional already.
When I emerged, Elton was there, Alice peering around him, annoyed by the lack of attention for her.
“Are you okay, now?” That was kind of him to care. “Because I don’t want Heller becoming angry with me for not looking after you.” Yeah, sure he was kind. Kind of annoying.
“I’m fine,” I assured. “The baby spiders are washed away.”
Alice giggled. “Like Incy Wincy Spider.” Nobody laughed with her, especially me. She retreated behind Elton.
Elton looked down at me. “Actually Tilly, they’re called spiderlings, not baby spiders. And I don’t know for sure of course, but I’m deducing that a spider egg sac hatched inside the costume while you were in it. They can release hundreds of spiderlings at a time. Possibly brought on by your body heat and movement. But who will ever really know?”
I spoke up. “Not me! And you know what? I really don’t give a flying f–”
One of the attendants poked his head into the open door. “We need help managing the crowd. Now!” Elton and I sprang into action. Well, he did. I was a lot slower and more reluctant, still recovering from my arachno-trauma.
Under Elton’s authoritative guidance, people traffic moved with admirable efficiency and the remainder of the day passed peacefully. And I didn’t even have to torture myself listening to his monologues, because I spent the whole time on the bottom floor, directing traffic up the down escalator. As I did, technicians from the costume studio gently tried to extract the dino costume from the other escalator, cursing and threatening the idiot who’d trapped it there.
I wasn’t about to admit it had been me.
And finally, when the costume had been freed and a thankful Mabel was advised that there was no major damage to it, the museum closed for the day. Elton and I piled into the black Heller’s 4WD fleet vehicle he’d booked out for us that morning. As he drove from the museum’s carpark, he spared me a worried glance.
“What’s Heller going to say about this?”
It didn’t take long to find out.
Chapter 3
We had no sooner parked the car in the basement of the building that Heller owned and used as both his business base and his residence (which I’d dubbed the Warehouse) than my phone rang. I didn’t even need to check to see who it was.
“Matilda.” His voice was cool and his accent quite pronounced, which was never a good sign. It meant that he was angry.
“There were spiders, Heller!”
“I want you both in my office now.” And he hung up.
Damn. I turned to Elton and brightly gave him the good news. He wasn’t happy, and I couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t done anything wrong besides having the misfortune to be teamed on a job with me. We trudged silently to the second floor.
The outer office was empty, Daniel and Niq having knocked off for the day. I wished I was with them. In fact, I wished I was anywhere except here, about to be reamed. I stole a peek at Elton’s face. He looked as if he wished he’d never met me. This was probably his first reaming ever. You get used to it after a while, I lied to myself.
Elton tapped deferentially on Heller’s office door. He glanced up briefly and gestured us in, pointing at the two chairs on the other side of his desk. We sat.
He kept us waiting while he finished writing something. I didn’t waste the time, using it to drink him in. The long fingers on his left hand moved gracefully as he wrote, the scars on his hands and knuckles tightly white against his tanned skin. He wore a chunky silver ring with the H logo of Heller’s on his wedding ring finger – I guess because he was married to his business. I knew what it was like to have those fingers caressing me, arousing me. Not today though, I suspected.
He finished writing and gently laid down his gold pen, resting his glacial blue eyes on us. He didn’t speak.
He was a beautiful man, breathtaking, a real head-turner. Incredibly tall and stacked, with spiked blond hair and the kind of cheekbones that made supermodels weep with envy. His accent, Scandinavian in origin, was as sexy as hell and his shapely lips were made for kissing (and other more intimate things).
I was kind of in love with him, not that I wanted to admit it to anyone, but had no expectations of a happy ever after. Yeah, I know, someone like him and a dolt like me? It was laughable. He was well out of my league.
Besides, he wasn’t the settling down sort of man. He liked to screw around a lot and had repeatedly tried to make me one of his many, many conquests. And while I loved sex as much as the next red-blooded young woman, so far I’d resisted, although we fooled around a bit. I didn’t know what would happen if we did sleep together – maybe nothing, maybe everything. Both outcomes scared me. I’ll admit it – I’m an emotional coward.
“I’ve just been on the phone with the director of the museum,” Heller said, his eyes cold.
Oh dear. I took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Everything is my fault, Heller. Elton was nothing but professional. Please don’t be angry with him. You ought to be proud of him. He helped me so much and he represented the business well today.” Elton shot me a grateful glance. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t, but –”
“You knocked over small children, Matilda. You scared people. You were responsible for blocking the escalator for hours so that foot traffic was disrupted. You caused chaos. A news crew filmed everything. It will be on TV tonight.” He paused, his eyes drilling into me. “It was the museum’s opening day of their biggest ever display. It was important to the director that everything went smoothly. I assured him that it would. I assured him that my employees were professional and adept at crowd control. And if I’m not mistaken, you were sent there to crowd control, not to cavort about in a costume.”
I lowered
my eyes to my lap, miserable. But at least he wasn’t yelling. Yet. “I’m sorry. I was trying to be helpful.”
Unexpectedly, Elton spoke up. “Heller, please excuse me for interrupting without being invited, but I must stand in comradeship beside Tilly today. She was trying to be helpful to the museum staff and it certainly wasn’t her fault that the costume was infested with hatching spiderlings. You didn’t see her – she was covered with them. I would respectfully suggest that anyone would react badly in those circumstances. You’re being harsh.”
It was my turn for a grateful glance. Geez, what a great guy he was! It was very daring for one of the men to talk back to the boss. Elton’s big blue eyes and my big light brown eyes stared at Heller, not sure what would happen next. We could both be fired. We could both suffer his shouting. We could both be ‘taken care of’ by Clive.
Always unpredictable, Heller laced his fingers together on his desk and regarded us coolly, his eyes moving from me to Elton and back again, a suspicious expression on his face. He studied my face carefully. He’d forbidden me from having anything but platonic relationships with his men. But surely he didn’t think that Elton and I had . . .? Eww! I liked the guy, but not like that.
He turned to Elton. “You may leave us. Return to the museum tomorrow as scheduled.”
“But –”
“You may leave.” And it would be a foolish man who didn’t take that advice promptly.
So Elton left, throwing me a remorseful glance over his shoulder.
I assumed that meant that I was in for a private reaming and braced myself. It wouldn’t be the first time. It wouldn’t be pretty. I’d probably cry.
But when Elton had gone, Heller relaxed against the back of his chair. “Are you all right, my sweet?”
That took me by surprise, and I crumpled with relief and emotion. My voice wobbled when I spoke. “There were spiders everywhere and they were in my mouth and it was horrible and . . .”
Before I knew it he moved to me, pulling me up from the chair and enveloping me in his strong, muscled arms. And, oh boy, it was a nice place to be. I rested my head against his neck and breathed in his expensive cologne.
“The director of the museum was happy about the publicity,” he murmured in my ear.
I drew back and looked up at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yes. The display was only due to receive a very brief story on the local news, but now it’s national news. He’s convinced that tomorrow will draw in even more crowds. Everyone enjoys watching a rampaging dinosaur in action. Or so he said.”
I leaned against him again, my brain working overtime. “Are you taking me off the assignment?”
“No. You will finish out the week.” Hmm, the rest of the week with Elton? I was being punished. “In costume.”
I pulled back again. “They want me back being Tilly the T Rex?”
“It’s actually an Allosaurus, my sweet. It has three claws, not two. Everyone knows that. And yes, nobody but you will do. Apparently you spacewalk better than any dinosaur in history.”
I laughed. “Moonwalk, Heller. It’s moonwalk, not spacewalk.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know these things.”
“I know. You’re too busy running a business, right?”
“A business with the most incredibly frustrating staff member ever employed. Even when she’s being a complete disaster for me, she somehow ends up doing a great job and pleasing the client. I can’t understand how that’s even possible.”
I laughed again. “It’s a gift.”
He shook his head, looking down at me sadly. “No Matilda, it’s a –”
“Curse?”
He smiled. “Or a blessing in disguise.”
I smiled back.
He turned me around and smacked me gently on the butt. “Off you go. Daniel and Niq are waiting for you to cook them dinner.” I started protesting, but he just smiled his sexy half-smile. “And I’m always waiting for you afterwards, if you’re interested in dessert.”
I scrammed. Of course I was interested, but . . . oh boy! I wasn’t sure I was ready for dessert. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for dessert. Apparently, dessert was beyond amazing. Or so I’d heard.
Back at my flat, I found Daniel and Niq sprawling on my lounge.
Daniel was the same age as me, a nice-looking, vulnerable, sensitive man with soft chocolate eyes and a soothing voice. He’d been subjected to horrendous childhood abuse that had left him physically and emotionally scarred. The most visible, a terrible facial scar, ran from his left eye down in a semi-circle to his mouth. Awful ragged scars ran across each of his wrists. There were many more secret scars as well. He was very self-conscious about his appearance, but was taking small steps with lots of encouragement from the rest of us to gain confidence.
Niq was now fifteen, small and delicate-boned. He was a dedicated Goth, with jet-black hair, pale blue eyes, multiple piercings in his ears and nose and rarely seen without his eyeliner, black clothes and spectacular hair creations. Heller had rescued (kidnapped) him when he was young from a very neglectful childhood that had culminated in the violent death of his junkie mother. He was also a devastatingly honest and trusting boy.
I tried to spend as much time with the two as possible, and couldn’t now even begin to imagine my life without either of them in it. I hadn’t been expecting such an emotional impact when I’d accepted a job with Heller, but it had ultimately turned out to be a very rewarding decision for me.
“Guys,” I complained. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I had a horrible day and . . .” A beautiful smell wafted from my kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at them in enquiry and followed my nose to the oven where a chicken casserole was merrily bubbling. “Oh, you wonderful boys!”
I threw myself onto the lounge, on top of them, smothering them both with kisses. They pushed against me, laughing, twisting their heads away from me and protesting loudly about my pulverising weight. That snipe earned them both a hair mussing and a tickling, though I was careful with them. Daniel had been shot in the back not long ago and was still fragile, though much healed, thank goodness. And it wouldn’t take much to crush Niq, he was so slight.
When we’d exhausted our laughter, I plonked down between them, forcing them to make room for me.
“Don’t sit on me, Tilly,” groaned Niq, too slow to move.
“Hey, men would pay good money for me to sit on them,” I said.
“And even more money for you to get off them,” laughed Daniel. I thumped his arm. Hard. “Ow!”
“You deserved that.”
“You deserve this.” And he kissed me on the cheek.
“Why?”
“For giving us another great laugh.”
I groaned. “You watched the early news?” They both laughed again. I unlaced my boots. “How bad was it? Give it to me straight.”
“Real bad!” Niq smiled.
“Terribly bad,” laughed Daniel. “And by the way, nice sensible undies you have on today. You’ll never find another boyfriend wearing those, you know.”
I stared at him. “You’re kidding me? They filmed me in my undies?”
“Not your face. It’s pixelated,” said Niq.
I flung myself against the back of the lounge, looking up at the ceiling. “Can you tell it’s me?”
“Only if you know what a huge butt you have,” said Daniel, jumping up to avoid another thump as I sprang forward. “I’ll see to dinner.”
“You better, buddy,” I warned, settling back on the lounge, my arm around Niq. He nestled his head against my shoulder and I kissed his forehead. He was a sweet kid. I loved him a lot.
We watched the news together. I couldn’t believe the footage. There was me rampaging across the screen in the costume, then the bastards had filmed me being pulled from it on the escalator and rushed away. Elton came across very well – tall, commanding, handsome, a knight in shining armour, a great advertisement for Heller’s. I would have looked twice at
the screen if I’d been a general public member. And sure, they didn’t show my face, instead focussing the camera on my retreating white-cottoned butt. I think they even slowed the footage down as my butt cheeks rolled from side to side in turn.
“Watch out, Pippa Middleton! Some competition for you,” quipped one smartarse newsreader, making the others giggle unprofessionally.
“They can’t just show someone’s butt on the news without their permission, can they?” I complained. “That’s not right. It’s invading my privacy. I was very distressed at that moment. There were spiders everywhere on me. It’s not right.” And I whined all through dinner and the washing up until they both told me to can it.
“We made up a song for you,” Daniel said, his face angelic. Nobody did angelic like Daniel.
“Really?” I asked warily.
And in his lovely voice he sang to the tune of “Spiderman”.
Spiderlings, spiderlings
Go where no man dares to go
Any crack, any hole
Could they even find Tilly’s soul?
Look out! Here come the spiderlings
Running from her girl things
Poor little spiderlings!
“Har-dee-har-har,” I said, unimpressed. I threw myself on the lounge in a sulk.
“Let’s watch a DVD,” suggested Niq, smiling.
“Okay,” I agreed, ready to forget my awful day. “What have you picked?”
His face twisted with laughter. “How about Arachnophobia?”
“Oh, that’s it,” I declared and jumped up, swatting them out of my flat, both still laughing. “Get out. Go on. Scram.”
I slammed the door in their faces and spent the rest of the evening taking another shower and retiring early.
The week passed easily. I enjoyed my time in the (fumigated) costume and the director had been right. Crowds, drawn by the TV coverage, were impressive. I’d never been hugged so much in my life, especially by young men. And I wasn’t sure, because of the padding of the costume, but I think some of them were even groping my butt. But best of all, I was an entire floor away from Elton, not forced to eat my own ears to stop listening to him.
