Heller's Punishment (38 page)

Trent was
oblivious to it all. “How nice that you’ve all met so soon. Tilly,
these two men will be responsible for ushering you safely through
the office door every single day you work here.”

“That’s just
super, Trent. I look forward to it,” I beamed insincerely. The
Brawnies glowered at me. I flipped them the mental finger. They
mentally returned the gesture.

“She used to
work at
Heller’s
,” he told them. I wished he hadn’t.

“I thought he
had high standards,” Brawny One snarled in contempt.

“He does.
Didn’t make it through the interview, huh?” I taunted, and knew
from the unbecoming red flushing his face that I’d hit a sore spot.
There’s no doubt about it, I have a winning way with men.

“Tilly was
suspended though, so she’s come to work for me.” The Brawnies
smirked.

“Trent, I don’t
think they’re interested in my life story,” I said hurriedly,
nudging him towards the lift.

“See you later,
fellows!” he waved at them cheerfully, before we stepped into the
nearest lift. Inside his jolliness dropped away like a mask. “What
was all that about? They looked as though they were about to thump
you.”

“They took
exception to me disparaging their looks and intelligence. They
didn’t believe me when I said I was working for you. Do I look like
a liar?”

“I agree that
they’re absolute jerks, but I try to stay on their good side at
least. Are you always so combative with gigantic men? I’m beginning
to see why Heller was glad to have me take the burden of being your
boss off his shoulders for a while.”

“I had a
terrible morning trying to get here, and they pissed me off. Heller
won’t let me use any business resources, and I don’t own a car. I
had to take three buses to get here. Look, you know what, I can’t
do this, Trent. I live right across the city from here. There’s no
way I can do that commute each day for a year. Let’s just forget
the whole thing.” And I moved to stop the lift.

“Is it easier
for you to get to my apartment?”

I halted and
turned around. “Yes, it’s much closer.”

“Well, you can
work from there. Most of your work will be with phone and email
anyway, so location isn’t critical. You don’t need to be here all
the time. And there’s the view. Don’t forget that.”

“Are you sure?
You would let me do that? I love that view!”

“Sure, doesn’t
matter to me and I’m your boss. But you need to spend the rest of
the week coming in here though for the handover. Can you cope for
that long?”

“Yes. Thank you
so much, Trent. You’re such a great boss already.” And I couldn’t
help myself but give him a huge, but unprofessional, hug.

Chapter
25

The next few
days passed quickly. Marissa, Trent’s researcher, was good-natured
and friendly, glad that Trent had finally found a replacement for
her. She spoke of him with fond affection and I observed they
shared a relaxed, bantering kind of relationship. She showed me the
ropes, and I was fairly confident I could handle the work.

On the
Wednesday of that week, Trent took me back to his apartment after
work and I dressed there for the charity event that evening. I
chose an ultra-feminine dress that flashed some cleavage and pinned
my hair up, allowing soft tendrils to caress my neck and shoulders.
Trent was handsome in a tuxedo, and we headed out happily
together.

It was a great
night and we had a lot of fun and laughs together. Our photo was
snapped a few times during the evening and for the following week I
scoured magazines and newspapers, cutting out each photo of us. In
most of them I was just captioned as Trent’s ‘friend’ or
‘companion’ and the few times they actually bothered to name me,
they spelt my name wrong. Trent was a perfect gentleman that
evening, on his best behaviour.

As the evening
finished very late, he talked me into staying over at his place,
arguing sensibly that I could catch a lift to work with him the
next day. After letting Heller know, I happily snuggled into his
guest bed, the sounds of the harbour drifting through the open
window.

When I woke up
in the morning, I realised that I didn’t have any clean clothes to
change into. Trent lent me a fresh t-shirt, but otherwise I was
stuck in the same undies and jeans that I’d worn the previous day.
I was self-conscious turning up to work with him, the Brawnies
greeting us with innuendo dripping from their nasty smiles. My
embarrassment grew when Marissa untactfully enquired if I was
wearing Trent’s t-shirt, because she recognised it as one of his. I
tried to brazen it out with a barefaced lie, but her sceptical,
knowing smile suggested she didn’t believe me. I guess she’d seen
Trent with a revolving door of women.

Finally,
Saturday arrived. The day of Will’s wedding. I wasn’t sure how I
felt when I woke up, but lay in bed, staring at the sky from out of
my window, trying to pick through my emotions. All I hoped for was
that I didn’t make an absolute arse of myself in front of
everybody. Or was that too much to ask?

Daniel popped
in briefly as I was dressing, reminding me that he was attending a
party with Anton and his friends tonight. We exchanged quick wishes
for a pleasant evening for each other and he dashed off to finish
getting ready.

I’d bought a
new dress especially for the wedding, agonising for days over the
decision. In the end I chose a sweet and modest vintage-style
empire line dress in emerald green with black trimmings, with
matching emerald shoes and a dark green and black handbag. I kept
my hair long and soft. I was making last minute adjustments to my
appearance when there was a knock on my door.

“It’s open!” I
yelled from the bathroom and looked up to see Heller reflected in
the mirror. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me finish my
final touches. I turned around with a flourish.

“Well? What’s
the verdict?”

He came forward
and took my hands in his. “Beautiful, angelic and innocent. Just
the perfect look to attend your ex-lover’s wedding.” I gave him a
sad smile. “Are you going to be okay, Matilda? Maybe I should have
gone with you to make sure you will be.”

“Too late now.
I’m sure I’ll be fine, and if not, I’ll just drink myself
senseless. I’ll never be a close family friend anyway, so it
doesn’t matter if I vomit all over the bride.” I smiled when his
forehead creased with a frown. “That’s a joke, Heller. I’m going to
be fine.”

He drove me to
Trent’s apartment, and we shared a brief kiss before I alighted.
The doorman waved to me, used to my presence by now and I waved
back, heading for the lift. Trent opened his door wearing a
charcoal suit and a green-accented shirt.

“We match!” I
said in delight. “How did you know I’d be wearing green?”

“I had no
idea,” he replied honestly, and kissed me on the cheek. “You look
beautiful, Tilly. That colour really suits you. I’ll be the envy of
every man in the room. Probably even the groom,” he joked.

“Possibly,” I
replied cautiously. “We were once very close.”

“How
close?”

“He used to be
my boyfriend. In fact, he cheated on me with the bride before he
dumped me.”

“Oh dear. And
you still agreed to go to his wedding?”

“It’s important
to show him that I don’t care.”

“Then you
shouldn’t have agreed to go to his wedding. That would have shown
him that you don’t care at all.”

I sighed in
exasperation. “Why can’t any of you men understand my logic about
this?”

“There’s logic
involved?” he teased, readjusting his tie in the mirror. “Please
tell me it won’t end up being one of those weddings where I get my
teeth knocked out trying to defend you?”

“No,” I
reassured him, laughing. “Everything will be perfectly civilised.
Trust me. Although he wants me to keep sleeping with him.”

Trent spun
around. “After he’s married?” I nodded. “That’s appalling
behaviour. What kind of a man is he? I hope you told him to shove
it.”

“I haven’t yet,
but I will.”

“Did you tell
Heller about this?”

“Yes. He was a
little . . . angry when I told him.”

“Jesus, you
like to live dangerously, don’t you? Do you still love him?”

I shrugged. “I
don’t think so. He crushed my heart and it was kind of flattering
to have him begging me to see him again. But a lot’s happened since
then. I haven’t seen him for weeks. He’s probably changed his mind
and has moved on by now.”

But he hadn’t.
As Trent and I walked up to the church, I spotted Will immediately,
standing nervously out the front with his best man and groomsman,
greeting guests and chatting. He glanced up and his eyes locked
onto me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. People would
soon notice if he kept that longing gaze directed at me all night.
When we reached him, I kissed him chastely on the cheek.

“Will, you’re
very handsome today,” I said sincerely. “Formal wear really suits
you.” I’d never had the chance to see him in it.

“Tilly. It’s so
wonderful to see you again. It’s been far too long.”

Trent loudly
cleared his throat. I was conscious of the curious attention we
received from the other people milling out the front of the
church.

“Where are my
manners?” I said lightly. “Will, please meet my date, Trent Dawson.
Trent, this is my . . . friend, Will Armstrong. The groom.”

They shook
hands. Will considered Trent unhappily. “You look familiar, Trent.
You’re on TV or something, right?”

Trent’s wink to
me was self-deprecating. “I’ll admit that I’ve done a little
TV.”

“How did you
two meet?” Will asked.

“On a job,” I
answered.

“I was afraid
you were going to bring Heller along today.” He turned to Trent.
“Have you met Heller yet?”

“Oh yeah. It’s
quite an experience,” Trent smiled. Will nodded with emphatic
agreement.

“I don’t work
for him at the moment, Will. I’m working for Trent now.”

He was stunned
but not able to pursue it further, forced to move on from us with
the arrival of more guests. Trent and I shifted over to the edge of
the crowd, neither of us knowing anybody, relying on each other for
entertainment. He engendered a certain amount of excitement amongst
the guests, everyone too polite to speak to him directly,
preferring to whisper about him and peer over each other’s
shoulders to get a better glimpse of him. I hoped that after
everyone had a few drinks, he wouldn’t be mauled by secret fans. He
suppressed a bored yawn and I squeezed his arm, grinning at him.
“Having fun?”

“I think you’re
going to owe me a feel-up of your boobs tonight for dragging me
along to this, Tilly,” he murmured in a low voice.

“In your
dreams, Dawson.”

“Well, at least
a look at them.”

“Not going to
happen.”

“At least let
me sniff one of your bras.”

I giggled so
loudly that people looked over in surprise. “Okay, but only if you
behave.”

“Finally,
something to look forward to!” he said, making me giggle again.

A tyrannical
family member, who’d obviously made it her sacred duty to
extinguish any spark of enjoyment, started ushering guests into the
church. She honed in on us immediately.

“Do I know
you?” she demanded from me, staring at me as if I’d
gate-crashed.

“I’m a friend
of Will’s,” I smiled disarmingly at her. She wasn’t disarmed and
turned her eyes to Trent. The change that swept over her was
extraordinary.

“Oh, my God,
Trent Dawson! I’m your biggest fan! Oh, my God! I can’t believe
that you’re here at my nephew’s wedding. Do not leave tonight until
you have given me your autograph. I insist. Now you better get
inside the church. The bride’s about to arrive.”

We took a seat
in one of the pews, watching in smothered amusement as the woman
ordered people around with all the tact and diplomacy of an army
sergeant.

“I think you
had a lucky escape from that family, Tilly,” Trent whispered to
me.

I nodded. “I
bet she’d let you feel
her
boobs tonight,” I whispered
back.

He spluttered
loudly, attracting attention, and dextrously turned it into a
throat clearing. We smiled at each other. I looked up to see Will
staring at us dourly, waiting at the front of the church for his
bride to arrive. A burst of shrieking organ music that made us all
jump with fright signalled that the bride was on her way. We stood
respectfully and turned to the entrance. The taffeta and lace
wedding dress Penny had chosen only enhanced her baby bump, making
her appear as if she was nearly due instead of the five months
pregnant she actually was. I’ve never understood why people in her
situation just didn’t wait until after the baby was born to marry,
but then remembered her religious family. She must have wanted to
be a married woman before she gave birth.

The ceremony
was over quickly. Before I was even able to determine which of my
emotions was dominant, Will was married and any residual dreams I
harboured about him were killed for good. As he kissed the bride, I
suddenly became aware that I grasped Trent’s hand in a death-grip.
He wore a pained expression, but bravely endured. I let go and
mouthed “sorry” to him.

The
photographer rushed the newlyweds away for their photo shoot. I
imagined their wedding album would consist of mostly headshots.
Trent and I followed the crowd and trooped off to the reception at
the adjacent church hall, heading straight for the champagne. After
I’d scoffed a few glasses and as many of the circulating nibblies I
could politely shovel in my mouth, Mr and Mrs Armstrong made their
triumphant appearance. Speeches were made, toasts given, the cake
cut, and then the festivities began in earnest. As I’d predicted,
after guests had consumed a few drinks, Trent was swamped by the
curious, the celebrity worshipping and maybe even a few genuine
fans. Aunty Army Sergeant led the charge. I made small talk with
some of Will’s teaching colleagues while Trent signed autographs
and answered impolite questions about his love life and career.