by Imogen Nolde
KILLER BOSS
IMOGEN NOLDE
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1 Vera
Everyone has an idea of the perfect guy. I know ‘idea’ isn’t a very strong word, but it’ll do for now. I think everyone has some idea of him. Some people fantasize. Some obsess. They’re just thoughts running through our head, but they started when we were really young. And now they’re ingrained.
Your boyfriend is not the perfect guy. Your fiancé, your husband – forget about it. Oh indeed, the things we wish we could take back. No, the perfect guy is still with you even when you’re in that committed relationship. When you’re swimming in euphoria, when you’re having the best sex of your life. He’s even with you when you’re in love.
But the perfect guy does not exist.
Or does he?
It’s in gym class tonight that I’m reminded how much I’m missing out on. How much I really want. It all happens so fast, and I’m completely caught off guard, but –
“Holy shit,” my best friend Zoe Clarke uttered on the bike next to me. “Isn’t that guy from TV or something?”
“Huh?”
‘Huh’ is my response because I haven’t figured out what she’s on about. I’m still hammering away at the pedals, letting the sweat breathe through my t-shirt, my face dripping and red –
Meanwhile Zoe’s already pushing her bra up and grabbing hold of her towel.
Gradually, I become aware of some people walking towards us in my peripherals. One of them is our trainer Jill, the other is just a dark, shadowy outline –
“Oh fuck…” I grumbled as they set upon me.
I stopped pedaling mid cycle and slid halfway down the seat, looking God-knows how stupid. Not my fault of course – Wednesday evenings were ladies only, no guys allowed, nothing to worry about –
“That’s Vera, that’s Zoe,” Jill rambled away almost grinning. “Not what you’re after, I’m sure. They’re both in our ‘over twenty-eights’.”
My eyes locked onto the gorgeously hot celebrity trainer Zoe and I both recognized from TV. I’d seen him in group photos in Jill’s office so I shouldn’t have been that surprised, however I wasn’t really prepared –
“Don’t get up,” he said in small, yet assertive voice. “Please carry on.”
“I was – I was finished –” Zoe stuttered.
Her hair had fallen into place and she was giving him her eyes, smiling sweetly.
Then she bailed, skipping away.
“It’s Chester, isn’t it?” I said finally remembering.
He glanced at me, and there was depth to it, depth that left me pulsating.
“Can you give me any more criteria?” Jill asked drawing his attention away.
“I need people who aren’t camera shy,” Chester said. “It would great if they had a lot of positive energy, are bright, happy, just generally likable and nice to look at.”
There was a pause of silence.
Chester began to turn towards me again.
I immediately started pedaling.
“Well, there’s plenty of people here that fit that description,” Jill said quickly. “There’s more people upstairs as well if you don’t see anyone suitable here.”
I shouldn’t be pedaling.
My heart is going through my head.
Why am I doing this?
I’m making myself sick.
Why is this happening?
Why am I so afraid of him? Because he’s famous? Because he’s handsome? Cause he looked at me in such an unreadable way I was able to fill in the blanks?
I felt my eyes closing.
And why should I not fill in the blanks?
Why can’t I dream for this one special moment?
That he is the right guy.
That he picks me.
That everything works out.
And my sex life doesn’t continue on as the outlandish, perverted mess that it is…
“Nice to meet you, Vera.”
My eyes opened.
If he had looked at me, then the look was gone. He was walking away with Jill again.
I slumped over, my gaze reaching out at him, a sense of frustrated delusion washing over me.
Why should he make me feel like this?
Why should I let him?
“I heard somewhere he’s single,” Zoe piped up as she returned to the bikes. “He’s on the lookout Ms. Right.”
Slowly, I lifted one leg off the seat and lowered myself down to the floor.
I looked around for my towel before realizing Zoe had somehow wound up with mine.
I snatched it back.
“You know … that doesn’t help me…”
2 Vera
And then there’s a time where reality crashes. Where all the daydreams and fantasies catch fire and the smoke’s so thick you can hardly breathe.
And was I here?
Was I really?
Did I invent this moment in my life?
Were all the events leading to this…?
I stared face to face with the cracked mirror, watching the blood roll down my forehead, between the fractures in the glass.
This was normal, I told myself.
This was all completely fine.
I closed the bathroom door behind me and went to the chest by the wall where the necklace was waiting for me. I picked it up carefully, making sure the jewel was centered, and then took both ends to complete their stranglehold around my neck.
I then strode across to the mantle to retrieve the wireless earpiece connected to my cell. I set it inside my ear and dialed Mr. Redthorn’s number.
“Hello Vera,” he answered in his usual deep and enchanting tone. “How may I be of assistance?”
I looked down at the floor. “It’s tonight. I’m going out soon.”
“Of course you are.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
And waited.
“Vera?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t look at the floor. It will affect your posture.”
“Sorry.”
I shifted my face upright.
“That’s better.”
I kept myself in that position until he instructed me further.
“Have you eaten anything since you left work?”
“No.”
“Have you drunken anything?”
“I had some water at the gym.”
“What sort of water?”
“Fresh. Bottled. Not out of a tap.”
“And the seal was –?”
“Broken by me.”
A pause.
“How much water did you drink?”
I inhaled. “I don’t know the exact amount.”
A longer pause.
“Next time, you will know it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I heard a phone ring in the background on his end. It was swiftly cut out with the lifting and replacing of the receiver.
“Vera?”
“Yes.”
“What are you wearing? Do you still have your clothes from the gym?”
“No, I took them off.”
“But you haven’t changed for tonight?”
“Of course not.”
“And…”
“I’m naked.”
I glanced down at the floor again. Not for very long.
But long enough that he would have caught it.
“Go to your closet, Vera. We shall find you something to wear.”
I left my place by the wall and ventured across my ap
artment towards the bedroom. I pulled back the left door, and then the right door, each with a tall mirror attached to either side.
My gaze remained centered.
Focused on the hanging clothes.
“Show me what we’re working with.”
My head darted to the right so he could see all.
“You’re bleeding, Vera.”
“What?”
“Down the side of your face.”
“Oh.”
“You must have hurt yourself.”
“Yes.”
“I hope it wasn’t on purpose.”
“It wasn’t.”
“So someone else is to blame?”
“No, I…”
The words were difficult.
“Take your time, Vera.”
I looked in the mirror.
As though I was looking at him.
“I just lost control for a moment.”
He sighed. “That is extremely disappointing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I will need some time to think about your punishment. It seems my previous methods of discipline have been ineffective.”
“No, they’re not, really, I just –”
“If you don’t want my help, you can pick your own fucking dress.”
Click.
“Mr. Redthorn? Mr. Redthorn?”
The closet spun.
I stormed over to where my cell had been left and saw we’d been disconnected.
He’d hung up on me.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.
I removed the necklace and let it fall to the floor.
I knew, you see, he had a temper. I knew he could get really, really angry. I didn’t want to upset him. I’d tried to appease him, but things had just gotten so weird of late.
He knew everything about me.
He’d made me answer every single question he asked.
Tonight was not the first time he’d seen me naked.
But I’d never seen him at all.
3 Vera
Mr. Redthorn knew how important tonight was for me. He knew how lonely I was. My fantasies about the perfect guy. He said my luck would change, sooner than I expected. I knew my looks were average, he told me I was pretty. I knew I wasn’t that bright, he said I was one of the smartest people he’d met. I had no idea as well. How many businesses he was involved in. How many other girls he employed over the phone. He probably said the same thing to them all. I just wondered if things had gotten as bizarre as they had with me.
There wasn’t time to think about it.
I had to get going.
I pulled down the nearest garments my trembling hands could find, and then returned to the bathroom to make myself up. By the end of it I was about as satisfied with my appearance as I could be, and the infamous cut from the mirror had been tidied up.
Okay.
So this wasn’t a real date or anything.
We were just going to dinner.
As friends.
This isn’t Mr. Redthorn I’m talking about of course. Perish the day I ever get to meet him. No, I’m going to dinner with James Lancaster, an old friend from high school I hadn’t seen in ten years. He contacted me on Facebook, said he’d just been recently divorced, and he was branching out trying to be social again. He asked me to dinner, and I’d said yes. But just as friends. Even though it hadn’t exactly been made clear…
James had offered to pick me up, but I’d made a point about wanting to take separate cars. That had been Mr. Redthorn’s suggestion. He encouraged my going to dinner with James, but not to give him any rope to shack up with me, until I knew that was what I wanted.
Ten years was a long time.
As pretty and colorful as his photos posted to Facebook were, he could be a walking psychopath by now. The world had a habit of turning people crazy.
I didn’t get that impression about James though, thankfully, once I’d laid eyes on him. He was already seated at our table, joking around with some couple at the table behind us.
I put my handbag down and stood by the table’s edge, listening in to what they were saying.
“I swear if my father-in-law had done that to me, I would have knocked his teeth out,” James exclaimed, laughing. “Figuratively speaking. I have no idea how I’d handle that situation.”
“Nuts, I’m telling you,” the gentleman at the other table said. “He’s completely nuts.”
“Will you both shut up?” his partner said, giggling. “That’s my father you’re talking about!”
James looked up, seeing I’d arrived.
He got to his feet, extending a charming smile and his hand for me to shake.
“It’s good to see you, Vera,” he said. “How have you been?”
“I’m not interrupting anything, I hope,” I replied.
“Not at all,” he said casually. “Just an old friend the academy. I can’t stop running into people these days, it’s insane.”
We got seated.
“Do you want something to drink?”
I nodded. “Whatever is fine.”
“How about some wine? Feeling romantic?”
I narrowed my eyes sternly.
“I’m just kidding around,” he laughed. He then signaled the waiter and made a display of ordering the “finest bottle the kitchen has to offer.”
“You know this isn’t a date,” I said.
“I know it’s not a date,” James fired back. “Do you know it’s not a date?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
He reached across the table and touched my hand. “Settle down, Vera. Relax. We’re just unwinding here. Don’t be uptight.”
He removed his touch before I could recoil.
“Seriously,” he said.
“Please don’t come down on me.”
“I’m not, I’m not,” he insisted. “I apologize. I just … feel so sorry for you sitting over there. You look like … your soul has been crushed.”
“Gees,” I murmured. “You just say whatever comes into your head, don’t you?”
“I try to,” James said. “I’m not much for biting my tongue.”
“Well, I guess some things don’t change.”
The waiter returned with James’s fancy wine. We raised our glasses and he said “Cheers”. The wine was okay, but didn’t taste any better than what I was used to.
“Hmm,” he said licking his lips. “That brings me back some.”
“It does?”
“I was drinking this at my wedding. Not sure if I had it since.”
“How long were you married for?”
“Too long.” He took a deep breath. “What about you? Who have you been seeing?”
“Uh…”
“Or – what do you want to talk about? I don’t mean to pry.”
I considered. “I was with Barry Turner for a while.”
“Oh yeah, Barry. How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing great.”
“Really?”
“His wife just gave birth to triplets.”
“Gosh, you don’t hear about that much. Bloody painful I expect. She must have a been a whale before they fell out.”
“Well, she was already a whale to begin with –”
“And the two of you didn’t work out?”
I shook my head.
“That’s too bad.”
“There was someone else.”
“Oh right.”
“After Barry, I mean.”
“How’d that work out?”
“He was a biker. He used to beat me up.”
“Really?” James leaned back in his chair. He took a notepad and pen from his pocket. “What’s his name?”
“What?”
“His name. Please tell it to me.”
“I’m not telling you his name.”
“Was he charged?”
“This is getting a bit personal.”
James looked a bit shadowy for a moment. He put the notepad away.
“Sorry,” he said. “No one should be able to get away with that.”
“It’s over now. It’s done. I’ve moved on.”
“Well, that’s good I guess. You can’t let people push you around like that.”
I thought of Mr. Redthorn. “Can we change the subject?”
“Sure.”
I took a sip of the wine.
It tasted better this time.
“You still keep in touch with Zoe?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we’re still friends. We work at the same place too.”
“Where’s that?”
“A small office in town. We do bookkeeping and things for a private business.”
“Interesting.”
“Is it?”
“I always saw Zoe as being more the outdoors type.”
“Yeah. Well. Whatever pays the bills.”
“Does she know we’re hooking up tonight? Going to dinner, I mean?”
“Yeah,” I said. “She found it funny. Wants me to call her up when I get home and tell her all about it.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ve got to say, life’s a funny thing.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. James.”
He made a gesture with his hands. “I’m a homicide detective. There.”
“What?”
“Homicide. 187. I solve cases. Like Sherlock.”
“I didn’t even know you were with law enforcement. I thought you were into … stuff with computers and –”
“Yeah, well, I needed a change. Updating software isn’t exactly the most meaningful work.”
“So you’re really focused on your career now then?”
“Well, you have to be. The important thing is now I’m making a difference.”
“I wouldn’t have thought there were many murders for you to solve in these parts.”
“Vera. Come on.”
“What?”
“It’s a fucking nightmare out there.”
His mask of good humor fell away.
“You’ve seen some stuff?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s not pretty.”
“I can imagine.”
He made another gesture with his hands. “I guess now it’s my turn to want to change the subject.”
“Well, what do you want to talk about?”
He leaned forward, a small grin beginning to emerge. “I don’t know. But I guess we could start with how much you’ve missed me…”
