Heller’s Decision

by JD Nixon

  Despite my best efforts, I’d fallen asleep by the time Heller tracked me down later that evening. He was in a tender mood, coaxing my clothes off gently and taking his sweet, slow time with me. It was the perfect ending to a fairly horrific day.

  “Is there something different about you tonight, my sweet?” he asked afterwards as I drowsed against him.

  “Different? In what way?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t put my finger on it. You seem . . .” It wasn’t often Heller struggled for a word, despite English not being his first language. “Different.”

  “No. There’s nothing different about me.” Not that I was aware of anyway, but I fell asleep before I could ponder the matter further.

  I dreaded going into the office the next day, unsure if everyone had forgiven me for the whole Reverend Joshua debacle. In some ways, I felt slightly responsible for what he’d done to Malefic because it seemed to be spurred on by Malefic’s treatment of him on Trent’s show. But I reasoned to myself that the Reverend was a fervent powder keg waiting to explode and any number of things could have sparked the ignition flame.

  My phone rang just as I opened the door to leave.

  “Is that Tilly I’m speaking to?” asked a vaguely familiar voice.

  “Yes,” I replied with caution.

  “This is Liya, the Cybelian.”

  “Hello.” Now I was even more cautious. I hoped she wasn’t ringing to try to recruit me. I wanted to put all that magic rigmarole behind me.

  “Firstly, thanks again for what you did for me. For my coven. We really appreciate it.”

  “You thanked me enough yesterday, Liya,” I said, a little impatient. I checked my watch. I really had to leave. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have to get to work.” I didn’t want to be late when my job was on the line. I didn’t want to give Brady any more reasons to sack me.

  “I’ve taken Meredith, the novice Cybelian, under my wing.”

  “That’s nice of you.” What did that have to do with me?

  “I’ve been checking her potions and I noticed a discrepancy. As you were her only customer, thankfully the damage isn’t widespread.”

  “A discrepancy?”

  “Yes. In her dosage instructions. On your potion she’d instructed ten drops to be taken with a beverage. It should only be one drop, not ten. You haven’t used it yet, I hope?” She sounded rather panicky.

  “No.” Nor would I after hearing that.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Great Magna Mater for that. Ten drops would be rather disastrous.”

  “What would happen with ten drops?”

  “Nobody really knows. It’s never been done before.”

  “Thanks for telling me. I’ll bear it in mind if I use it.”

  Hanging up, I went to the kitchen and found the vial where I’d left it, its stopper still in place. I tipped the rest of the potion down the sink, washed out the bottle and put it in my recycling bin. I could never be tempted to experiment with it now.

  I sang along to the radio all the way to work, trying to artificially bolster my spirits for what was probably going be an unpleasant experience. At the station, I could see my two ‘friends’, the security officers, through the glass wall of the foyer and groaned to myself. They were the last two people I needed to see this morning.

  Head down, preparing to run their gauntlet, I peeped up at them to see if I could gauge their mood. If they were their usual contemptuous selves towards me, that was a good sign because it meant my job was safe. If they gloated at all, their level of gloatage would tip me off to just how much trouble I was in this time.

  But they surprised me by pulling out a third expression. I’d never suspected them of being so complex, but I had to admit this one confused me. Their features distorted as though they were putty someone was playing with, and their mouths twisted into a terrifying grimace. They lumbered towards me.

  I stepped backwards in alarm. Were they going to forcibly evict me from the building? They couldn’t just throw me out! I had personal items on my desk upstairs. I’d be damned if I was going to go quietly so someone else could eat my chocolate biscuits and play with my desk basketball game.

  It was only then that I realised that what I took for grimaces were actually smiles. The meatheads were trying to smile at me. Oh God! My fate must be direr than I’d even imagined.

  “Morning, darling,” said Meathead One. “Looking good today.”

  “Huh?”

  “I said you’re looking good, darling. Real good.”

  “Oh . . . okay,” I said, backing away. “You’re looking very . . . um, adequate yourself.”

  He swaggered to Meathead Two. “Hear that, Tugger? She said I’m looking adequate.” Tugger? I guess the name suited the man.

  “So what? She smiled at me first this morning.” Huh? I didn’t smile at either of them.

  “Well, this has been fun,” I lied, edging away. “I better get off to work.”

  “If you ever want to have lunch, darling, you know where I am,” Meathead One winked at me. “The station cafeteria serves a great bacon sandwich.”

  “Bacon sandwich,” Meathead Two scorned. “You’d probably make her pay for it herself too, you lunkhead. Come to lunch with me instead, honeycake, and I’ll treat you to the finest meatloaf you’ll ever taste.” He winked at me twice, or maybe he just had something in his eye. “With extra gravy.”

  “Wow, that’s . . . thanks.” I fled to the lift jabbing the button with unwarranted force, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  At my floor, I stepped out of the lift with trepidation, peering one way down the corridor then the other. All clear. I scurried up the corridor to the main office, rehearsing in my head the grovelling words I’d try out on Trent, hoping he wasn’t going to send me packing. I needed this job, not just to support myself, but also to give myself at least a modicum of independence from Heller. I knew I wouldn’t be welcome back at Heller’s until my year’s suspension was up, but I wasn’t willing to become his full-time sex pet just so I could eat and have a roof over my head.

  I needed this job.

  Just as I almost made the relative safety of the office, around the corner with all the fury of a thunderstorm rolling in from the west, came Brady.

  Chapter 23

  Brady skidded to a halt the second he saw me. He hooked his thumbs through the loops on his jeans and sauntered towards me. I couldn’t decide whether to stay and face up to the inevitable or to leg it to the fire stairs and cross my fingers I outran him.

  “Hi, Brady,” I said with optimistic brightness, hoping that a bit of sunshine might dispel his storm clouds. No chance of that ever happening.

  He stopped in front of me and propped himself up against the wall with his arm, one ankle crossed over the other. He didn’t speak, but let his eyes roam over my face, his expression changing from storm cloud to something I’d never seen on it before – friendliness?

  “You smell good, Tilly. What’s that perfume you’re wearing?”

  “Pardon?”

  He leaned forward and sniffed. I leaned back. “Nice. Very feminine.”

  “I’m not wearing any perfume,” I squeaked.

  “You must just smell good naturally.” He gave me a half-smile, which was half a smile more than he’d ever spared me before.

  I giggled nervously, not really sure how to respond.

  “Have I ever told you that you have a cute laugh? Are you interested in drinks after work one night? I’d love to get to know you better.”

  Dear God! Was he flirting with me? Did he just ask me out on a date? This was even worse than being fired.

  I crab-walked sideways, hoping to skirt him and reach the office. He restrained me with a gentle hand on my arm.

  “Hey, what’s the rush? It’s only work, after all. Let’s go get a coffee. We could just talk about . . . stuff. Whatever you want. Did I tell you that you smell great?”

  “Um, yeah, you did, and maybe l
ater? I should report in with Trent.”

  “You’re so dedicated to your job,” he said admiringly. “We really should give you a promotion.”

  My crab manoeuvre proved successful and I broke free from him, rushing into the office.

  Scottie looked up from his computer when I burst in. His eyebrows rose.

  “Wow, Tilly. You look sensational today. Have you done something different? Maybe with your hair?” I had my hair tied back in a ponytail like I did most days.

  “No, I haven’t done anything different. I’m exactly the same as I was yesterday. What’s going on here?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, but whew –! You’re smoking hot today. If I didn’t bat for the other team, I’d so be letching on to you right now.”

  “Is Trent in?” I asked, deliberately ignoring his comments. But there was no need for him to answer as Trent barged out of his office in a rare rage.

  “Tilly! About bloody time you showed your face. I was just about to report you as a missing person. I have two words to say to you.” He stopped in a dead halt. “And they are, ‘hello, gorgeous’. Is that a new outfit?”

  I looked down at my usual jeans, tailored shirt and jacket. “No, it’s not. You’ve seen it a million times.”

  “I don’t know how I’ve been so remiss to not notice it before. You look amazing. Come here.”

  “What?”

  He held his arms out. “Come here. Come on. I want to give you a hug. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve really missed you.”

  He pulled me to him and hugged me tightly – one of those awkward hugs where one person is more enthusiastic than the other. I endured it, thinking, what the hell is going on in this place today? I felt as though I’d stepped through the looking glass into an alternate universe.

  Eventually, thankfully, he disengaged.

  “Oh God, it’s like a nightmare,” I despaired. “I came in expecting to be fired.”

  “Fired! Are you crazy? It’s an honour to have you working with us. Nobody’s going to fire you, silly.” He pushed me towards my desk. “Sit down. I’ll get you a coffee.”

  He bustled around using the office coffee machine, making me one of the worst brews a human being had ever been forced to drink. You could tell he was a takeaway coffee kind of man. I barely held down the first sip, but he stood at my desk watching me as I drank. So I held up the Trent Dawson Fan Club mug he’d served it in and willed myself to have an iron stomach, which was a little difficult considering Daniel and I had polished off two bottles of wine together the night before.

  “Mmm, so good,” I lied. “Thanks, Trent. You’re the best.”

  He actually blushed. A shameless self-promoter like him actually blushed. Now I wondered if I was still tucked in bed, dreaming. Scottie pouted with neglect at his desk.

  But when Trent – finally! – returned to his office, I tipped the rest of his coffee into the pot plant on my desk. I turned on my computer and tried to work, but was interrupted by a constant stream of visitors. Trent brought me another self-made coffee and a fresh danish for morning tea, so my pot plant had a second watering when he wasn’t watching. It would probably be dead tomorrow. I ate the danish though.

  Brady brought me in lunch and proceeded to sit at my desk with me and eat his as well – an uncomfortable experience for everyone in the office, except him. And at different times, the two security officers each then also brought me some lunch, which I had to eat while they stood and watched avidly. I staggered to the ladies room afterwards, my jeans so tight I could barely breathe. I was afraid the button would pop off unexpectedly and injure someone, it was straining so much.

  Hiding in one of the stalls, I rang Liya. She seemed surprised to hear from me.

  “Is it possible to get some of that love potion on me just from touching the vial?” I asked.

  “Did you ingest any of the liquid?”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “Then that’s not possible. That particular potion must be consumed to be effective.”

  “Oh. It’s just that some odd things are happening to me today.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you, Tilly. If you didn’t ingest any of the potion, then that can’t be the reason.”

  “Okay, thanks. I thought I’d better check.”

  When I left the bathroom, a crowd of my male workmates huddled at the doorway, as if waiting for me to reappear, forcing a small scream of fear from me. I flattened myself against the corridor wall and sidled my slow way from them back to my desk.

  This day could not end fast enough.

  In the afternoon, Scottie fought off Trent to make me coffee and bring me an enormous cinnamon scroll that made my stomach roil and complain loudly. And although his coffee was rather nice, my pot plant received its third watering. I buried the scroll under some rubbish in my bin, too full to even contemplate ever eating again until I reached the age of ninety.

  I didn’t get any work done. Trent, Brady, Scottie, the two security guys and some random dudes I didn’t even recognise, visited me, leaned on my desk wanting to chat, all of them asking me out using various methods. I watched the office clock like it was a detonator timer for a nuclear weapon.

  Would this day never end?

  As soon as those minute and hour hands reached the earliest time I could decently leave without looking like too much of a slacker, I fled. I didn’t give anyone a chance to stop me as I yelled a hasty and indiscriminate, “goodbye” over my shoulder. I raced from the building, pursued for a short while by a now-puffing pair of security officers.

  “Bye, Tilly,” they called plaintively, waving at me as I screeched out of the carpark and burned rubber making myself scarce in those parts of town.

  I didn’t know what was going on in my life, but I didn’t want any part of it.

  Back at the Warehouse, I parked my car in its usual spot snuggled next to Heller’s Mercedes in his own private fleet on a floor above the business fleet. One of the men once told me that Heller kept an armoured vehicle in his private fleet, but no matter how much I scrutinised the other vehicles parked on that floor, I couldn’t tell if that was true or not.

  Relieved to be home and away from all the weirdness of the day, I trudged up the stairs. When was Heller going to fix that damn lift? I grumbled to myself, wheezing a little already. I really needed to visit the gym again.

  On my way up the stairs I met Clive on his way down.

  “Tilly,” he said, something in his eyes I’d never seen there before. Affection?

  “Clive,” I replied warily, backing up against the wall.

  “Come into my office. Let’s discuss your return to Heller’s. We never spend enough time together.”

  “I’m not returning for another six months. Can we do it another time? I’m kind of tired.”

  He looked down at the floor and back at me again. “Please?”

  Clive said please? Clive said please to me? I knew then, there was no hope anywhere. It was as if love-zombies had taken over my world.

  I looked up the stairs, but he blocked that escape route with his bulk. I looked down, but a couple of men had just returned from a job and were eyeing me with uncomfortably intense attention.

  “Okay,” I agreed with deplorable weakness.

  I followed him into the security section. The minute we entered, a hush descended over the men. And then it started – an endless stream of men complimenting me on my appearance, my personality, my everything, my anything. I retreated and retreated until I was backed into a corner, feeling overwhelmed by the mass of muscularity and testosterone milling around me, all talking to me at the same time.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “Back off, guys! You’re freaking me out.”

  They stopped, then turned on each other.

  “Stop freaking her out, dude,” one said to another, shoving him in the chest.

  “You’re the one freaking her out with your ugly face.” A shove in return.

  Small skirmishes threate
ned to turn into major fights when the door to the section splintered open under the force of someone’s boot.

  Heller strode in and forced his way through his squabbling men. He stood in front of me, his nostrils flaring and teeth bared. I shrank back a little further, not sure if he was angry with me, or whether it was something even worse.

  He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and marched up all the flights of stairs to his apartment where he threw me on his bed.

  “Matilda,” he said hoarsely, climbing on to the bed with me. “I told you there was something different about you.”

  My clothes didn’t stand a chance, the remnants flung to the four corners of the room.

  Let’s just say it was a night never to be forgotten.

  The next morning, I almost had to crawl to his shower, exhausted, yet strangely at peace. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, hoping to remove whatever it had been that had caused that reaction. Afterwards I examined myself in the mirror. I accepted I was attractive because I was young, maybe pretty and had a nice set of boobs. But that didn’t explain the day before. I’d received more than my fair share of attention from men over the years, but never like that. Something strange was going on.

  After I dressed, and while I ate breakfast (from Heller’s pantry), I drank three glasses of water to flush ‘whatever’ from my body, just to be on the safe side. I kept puzzling over it in my mind as I chewed on my food. I knew I hadn’t drunk any of that potion and Liya assured me its effects were only received through ingestion. I just couldn’t understand it.

  I heard the swipe of an access card and Niq came through the door.

  “Hi sweetie. Do you want some breakfast?”

  “Yes, please. You know what Daniel’s like with food. Cereal every day gets boring after a while.”

  I kissed his forehead as he plonked down on a dining chair. Searching through Heller’s fridge, I found some eggs and fresh herbs from the rooftop garden. Probably supplied by ‘Victor’, I thought, laughing to myself.

  I made Niq an omelette with some toast and orange juice and sat back, like any proud mother, to watch him eat.