by JD Nixon
At the end when I peered at the mirror I barely recognised myself. My skin looked smoother and clearer. My hair was glossier than I could ever have imagined and fell around my shoulders in soft and gentle natural waves. My makeup complemented my large light brown eyes, my fingernails shone and my body tingled all over from the massage. I felt like a princess.
As I mentioned before, I’m a naturally nosy person, so I had no hesitation in asking whether the rest of the Heller’s team came here for styling, and was told that a stylist visited them at the Warehouse once a month for haircuts, manicures and other grooming requirements. I was also told, to my amazement, that I now had a standing booking once a month to come in for my own styling. Oh boy, I was loving my new job more and more every minute!
I was finishing a delicious light lunch of smoked salmon sandwiches and a glass of champagne, compliments of the spa, when a petite lady approached me. She had a wise Yoda-face framed by a geometric black bob so precise that her hairdresser must have used mathematical apparatus to plot the cut. Calm black eyes peered out from under the severe black fringe.
“Good afternoon, Miss Chalmers,” she said as we shook hands. “I’m Mei Wong and I’m your personal shopper for this afternoon.” I told her to call me Tilly and we spent the rest of the day trawling through some of the city’s designer stores, assembling outfits for work and some casual clothes as well.
“Heller instructed that we must replace your entire wardrobe,” Mei told me as we stepped into the fifth boutique. I really wanted to take offence at Heller’s comment, but the truth was that I was ecstatically happy at that moment and just couldn’t squeeze out even one tiny drop of indignation no matter how hard I tried. We bought so much that we would have struggled to haul it around, so we didn’t carry our purchases, but left them behind at each store for poor Rumbles to come along and pick them all up later.
“Do you help Heller shop too?” I asked, curious as ever.
“Heller doesn’t shop, Miss!” she exclaimed with glee, laughing out loud. “Good heavens, the very thought!” She laughed again. “He’s a big, tall man and can’t readily buy clothes off-the-rack. No, he gets all of his suits, shirts, shoes and uniforms tailor-made. Very expensive clothes, he has. I pick out his casual gear for him. Always designer clothes, though. He’s very fussy about his appearance. Same with the twins and Daniel. Niq isn’t so fussy, but his Goth tastes keep me busy, I can tell you. I have to order most of his clothes online from Europe.” I smiled at her unusual workload. In my world it wasn’t common for men to be so interested in their appearance. I wasn’t used to it and wasn’t sure what to make of it.
After a while, I decided that it was a joy to shop with Mei. She worked hard to cover my flaws and had a wonderful eye for a good ensemble, including jewellery, shoes and handbags. I was certain that I wouldn’t embarrass Heller in any of these outfits. She confided that with my height and lean (albeit untoned!) body, I was a dream to outfit. And best of all, she was paying for everything, using a credit card that she told me billed directly to Heller’s account.
However, no matter how fervently a woman loves shopping, there was always a time when she becomes completely and utterly exhausted. By about five-thirty, Mei and I had both had our fill and she rang for Rumbles to pick me up. I hugged her sincerely as he drove up in the 4WD and she promised that I would be seeing her again in the future. The boot and back seat of the car were full of bags.
“Looks like you bought the whole shop, Miss,” Rumbles joked as we drove back to the Warehouse.
“Just about! Do you know that I am almost too tired to even breathe,” I confessed, and leant back into the soft leather seat, closing my eyes. It had been possibly the best day I’d ever had in my life.
It took Rumbles and me several trips to the basement to bring up my new packages. When I went to put my new clothes away, I realised that all my old clothes had disappeared from the cupboards and drawers. Who had done that? I thought with irritation. Luckily I even had new underwear to replace that which was now gone, because I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.
My poor empty stomach growled and I opened the fridge to prepare the quickest meal possible. Seeing there were no stolen burgers around, I made the next best thing – a cheese toastie washed down with a glass of wine. Satiated, I sleepily watched some TV and then happily fell into bed.
That night I dreamt that I was on the roof-top sitting on one the sun lounges and Heller was giving me a pedicure. For some reason I was completely naked, sipping champagne and enjoying the caress of the sun on my bare skin. Heller was fully dressed in one of his expensive hand-made suits. He moved from grooming my toenails to massaging my feet. Then his elegant hands moved slowly up my ankles and calves, massaging them gently and over my knees to my thighs, edging closer, all the while mesmerising me with his incredibly captivating blue eyes. I parted my thighs willingly in anticipation, barely daring to breathe. He inched closer, leaving my skin tingling as he progressed up my thighs. The heat grew within me. He was about to touch me intimately with his long, graceful fingers, a seductive smile playing across his lips, when I woke up suddenly, breathing heavily, tangled in my sheets and intensely aroused. No! I panted. Don’t end now! Not now!
It took me a long time to go back to sleep afterwards.
Chapter 8
The next morning I remembered that Heller had promised me that I’d meet with clients, so again I was up early, gently exercised, fed and showered before eight. I chose my outfit carefully, thrilled to have such a selection from which to choose. I decided on a smart little navy skirt-suit with a very feminine soft white chemise. I tied my hair back in an elegant loose clasp as the hair stylist taught me and applied my new skin products and makeup. I twisted back and forth in front of my bedroom mirror trying to check my rear view. I’m not normally a vain person, but I thought I looked pretty good. I certainly felt fine, the expert haircut and beautiful clothes greatly boosting my self-confidence.
I walked down the stairs, taking care with the ten-centimetre navy stilettos I was wearing. I hadn’t wanted to buy high heels, already being so tall, but Mei had talked me into a few pairs, arguing that I would get used to walking in them eventually. I hoped she was right, because I was sure I was going to break my ankle at any moment. When I stepped into the office, Heller and Daniel were already there, discussing some paperwork at Daniel’s desk. Conscious that they had both lifted their heads to stare at me, I carefully made my way towards my desk.
Daniel wolf-whistled loudly. “You look amazing, Tilly!” I smiled at him gratefully for his kindness.
Heller put up his hand to stop my progress. I stood there, embarrassed, while he walked around me, intensely scrutinising my hair, suit, shoes, jewellery, skin and makeup. I guess he had a right to do so as he had paid for it all. When he had finished, I looked up at him in silence, nervously awaiting his verdict. He held my glance steadily until I had to blink and look away.
“Not bad,” he reluctantly conceded.
“You overwhelm me with your praise, good sir,” I replied tartly, and gave him a little curtsy.
“My praise, if I felt like providing any, would all be for Mei. She can make anyone look good.”
“She obviously doesn’t dress you then,” I snapped, stung by his words. But from the dangerous flash in his eyes that followed, I knew I had stepped over a boundary.
We engaged in eye-lock until I had to break away again, burned by that glacial blueness. The man was talented at staring people down. He spoke to me sharply. “I have two client appointments today. I want you to come to both of them with me. We leave for the first one in an hour. You need to be prepared so I’ve put some material on your desk to read before then.” And with that, he strode off into his office.
I sat at my desk and spent the next hour reading about the business’s security and surveillance offerings, only too aware that Heller’s eyes were resting on me frequently as I did. Probably making sure I was working as hard as he
expected, I thought ungraciously. Luckily for me though, one of the few acting skills I’d had any talent at was memorising text, so I was fairly confident that I’d be able to discuss the services offered by Heller’s with some degree of knowledgeable professionalism. I casually threw some of the brochures into one of my new top-label handbags.
Just before we were due to leave, I dashed upstairs to check my makeup and hair. When I came back down, Heller was waiting for me impatiently.
“Ready?” he asked with irritation. Without waiting for an answer he shot off down the stairs, leaving me to follow him, clattering slowly in my dangerous high heels. I finally made it to the garage and climbed up into his Mercedes 4WD with some difficulty in my tight skirt. I started feeling cross. Why should I have to dress up in all of these uncomfortable clothes while he was free to dress in a way that made moving actually possible?
We drove out to one of the affluent, leafy suburbs surrounding the CBD. Heller pulled up in front of a grand, turn-of-the-century sandstone mansion surrounded by beautifully kept gardens. I smoothed back my hair and tugged at my skirt. I was quite nervous. I wasn’t sure if I was able to pull off this job in the manner that he expected and I was growing very attached to the perks. It would have been a devastating blow to be fired and forced back to my old life for failing at this job. I was feeling the pressure to succeed, but considering that I had never succeeded in anything else in my life, I wasn’t overly confident about this venture either.
We walked up the sandstone path and Heller pressed on the doorbell. As the door started to open, he pushed me to the front so that I would be the first person visible. I turned to throw him a puzzled look, but immediately composed my features into a pleasant mask as the door fully opened. A large, pale chubby woman, her black hair pulled back in a tight bun, stood in front of us wearing what appeared to be a maid’s uniform – a frumpy black dress teamed with a small white apron.
Wow! It was a real, live maid! I had never before witnessed such a thing outside of television or the movies.
“Good morning,” I said politely. “We’re from Heller’s Security & Surveillance and have an appointment with Miss Worthy.” We showed her our staff cards. She threw a hesitant glance at Heller before hurriedly transferring her eyes back to me, as if he frightened her.
“Yes Miss, please come this way. Miss Worthy is expecting you.” We followed her through the labyrinthine rooms of the lovely, well-maintained house. The maid showed us into a pleasant, yellow-wallpapered, brightly lit parlour with a stunning vista out to the beautiful gardens.
An elderly lady perched on the edge of an enormous dark blue, Victorian-era leather sofa reading the day’s newspaper. She turned as we entered but did not stand up. She was tiny, with elegantly curled white hair, wearing black slacks and a pearl-coloured, full-sleeved silk blouse, her arthritic feet covered with soft leather ballet-style slippers. Discreet but perfect pearls studded her ears and draped in three strands around her neck. Her pointed features arranged themselves into surprise when her eyes alighted on Heller, relaxing slightly when she spotted me.
“Good morning, Miss Worthy,” I said quite formally, sensing that she would approve of this approach. “My name is Matilda Chalmers and this is Mr Heller. We’ve come to discuss your surveillance needs.”
“Mr Heller?” she asked sharply. “You are the proprietor of the business?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I interrupted smoothly. “Yes ma’am. Mr Heller has accompanied me to ensure that you will receive the best quality surveillance service possible.” She seemed satisfied with that, belonging to a class of people who believed that everyone else existed to support them. I’m not sure why I cut Heller off, but I had a distinct impression that she was quite old-fashioned and would prefer not to undertake business with a ‘foreigner’. He slid me a curious glance, but let me take the lead.
The maid brought in some tea for us all while Miss Worthy and I chatted about inconsequential stuff that I couldn’t even remember afterwards. Although she was conversing with me seamlessly, I noticed that she was keeping an eagle eye on the tea proceedings. The maid fussed around setting the crockery and cutlery out before us in perfect lines, her eyes flicking anxiously to Miss Worthy all the while. Maybe having a spoon out of alignment with a saucer was a reprimandable offence in this household? I was glad that I didn’t work for her.
“Now, Mr Heller advised me that you are concerned about some of the burglaries that have occurred in this neighbourhood recently and would like to protect your precious belongings,” I began, and on and on I droned, detailing the types of surveillance offered by Heller’s – discreet or obvious, alarms that rang out to alert the neighbours, or silently alerted the Heller’s dedicated security force, trip cameras, lights, the whole gamut of surveillance options.
After our third cup of tea, she became most adamant about what she wanted. Silent alarms directly alerting the Heller’s security force. No cameras. She was willing to pay for priority service. “After all, Miss Chalmers,” she divulged, her hand on my arm fondly, “one detests those incessant alarms that screech for hours, irritating the neighbours.”
I gathered from the snideness of her tone that some of her near neighbours had such alarms. I promised that some surveillance experts would be sent to her house later in the day to scope the job and ensure that everything was installed promptly. They would also bring the paperwork for her to sign. She thanked me profusely and I promised that she could ring me at any time if she had any more queries, although to be honest I had already exhausted my skimpy knowledge of surveillance systems.
As we were leaving, she said, “Matilda is such a lovely name. It was my eldest sister’s name but we all called her Matty.” I told her that I was called Tilly, which made her smile at me dotingly. “You’ve quite made me think of her again today, my dear. She had beautiful dark hair like yours.” Miss Worthy sighed sadly. “She passed away a few years ago now. I must get out the photo albums to look at again.”
As she walked us to the door, she lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, glowering at Heller with suspicion. “I’m not sure about that man. He’s overly handsome. In my experience, men like that are nothing but trouble. I’d stay away from him if I was you.”
“That’s very good advice, Miss Worthy,” I said, surprised. “But he’s my employer. I don’t need to worry about him.”
“Mark my words,” she tutted and turned to go back inside, softly closing the door on us.
I wasn’t sure if Heller had overheard any of that conversation, but we walked silently down the path to his vehicle. As we climbed back in, he said, “Ongoing work such as that is very important to me. Thank you for winning me a new client, Matilda.”
I smiled at him amiably. “My pleasure, Mr Heller.” And I’m almost positive there was a faint smile in reply as we drove off.
Our next client for the day was a bored, wealthy, middle-aged woman who was convinced her husband was screwing his PA and wanted to catch him in the act. I could barely capture her attention for even a second as her eyes remain glued to Heller the entire time. However, when I explained that we could bill her credit card as ‘manicure services’ for the surveillance, she was all ears. It tickled her that she could catch out her love-rat husband and ensure that he would pay for the privilege. With some lingering glances at Heller, she promised to sign a contract for three months of full surveillance. I advised that the paperwork would be organised today. As Heller and I stood up to leave, she took me aside.
“God, he’s such a honey! Does he, you know, ever offer ‘extra services’ for clients?” She pulled such a crude face that I almost felt sorry for Heller.
“I believe that he does have a ‘special relationship’ with his VIP clients,” I fabricated, continuing with a touch of regret, “They’re the clients who have a great deal of business with us, Mrs Smythe. For example, those who have their ongoing home security packaged with us as well. That kind of thing.”
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��Have you got any brochures?” she demanded before adding thoughtfully, “This neighbourhood is growing more dangerous every year. We probably do need more security.” And, without even the slightest trace of irony, “I’ll talk to my husband about it.”
I left her one of the Heller’s glossy promotional brochures, and Heller left her his business card because I didn’t have any yet. Her eyes lit up and I think she believed that he was giving her a special message or something.
“What are you so happy about?” he asked as we drove back to the office.
“She might turn out to be some repeat business for you in the future,” I replied, smiling at him innocently.
He nodded, unaware of the tempest soon heading in his direction. “By the way,” he said mildly, “I’m not sure that we can bill surveillance as ‘manicure services’.”
“Better get Daniel on to it then, hey?” I smiled at him again. “She seemed to really like the idea.”
He gave me a long thoughtful sidelong glance before returning his eyes to the road. We drove home.
Chapter 9
The next morning, I woke at a very early hour. I wanted to sleep in, but remembering for the millionth time Heller’s scornful comments about my fitness condition, I dragged myself down to the gym for another workout. I walked in casually, humming to myself, only to screech to a halt when I noticed that for the first time since I’d started working here, I wasn’t alone. Heller was busy doing an intense weights workout. He was shirtless and wearing nothing but small black sports shorts, his incredible muscles flexing and rippling with the effort of the bar weights he was lifting. My first instinct was to turn and flee, but he had noticed me in the wall mirror in front of him and, although not stopping his repetitions, his eyes tracked me in the mirror.
