Heller's Punishment (42 page)

“Ring me when
you want me to pick you up, my sweet.”

I smiled and
nodded, hurrying out. The solitary weekend security guard didn’t
give me any grief, mostly because of my new staff card,
diplomatically not commenting on how terrible and tired I looked. I
made my way to Trent’s office to meet my temporary new boss.

She was a
pocket rocket, small and dynamic, dressed for a weekday in an ocean
blue designer skirt suit and high heels. Her shiny blonde bob had
been hairsprayed so liberally that it wouldn’t budge in a cyclone,
her pointed face fully made up.
Who on earth goes to that much
trouble on a Sunday?
She looked me up and down
disparagingly.

“I expect a
certain sartorial standard in my staff.”

“It’s Sunday,”
I said sullenly.

“Make sure
you’re better dressed next time I see you. You look bloody awful.
What happened to you?”

“I was in the
same ‘accident’ as Trent. And thanks for calling me in on a Sunday.
I appreciate it.”

“Oh, attitude!
I like that in my men, not in my staff. That’s something you can
drop immediately.”

I nearly turned
and left. I couldn’t stand people like her – petty tyrants in their
small domains.
Remember the puff piece. Remember the puff
piece,
I chanted to myself.

“Talk me
through the stories for the next week. I want to be prepared. This
is my big break and I’m not going to fuck it up. So the stories
better be smoking, sweetheart.”

I made an
executive decision to push the
Heller’s
story into pole
position. I pitched it to her persuasively, not mentioning that it
was one of Trent’s pet projects. I had the feeling she would reject
anything that Trent had been interested in, wanting to stamp her
own ‘personality’ onto the show.

“He sounds
intriguing. How good-looking is he really? Nobody is that
attractive.”

“You can meet
him and judge for yourself this afternoon. He’s picking me up.”

“You know
him?”

“I used to work
for him. Which is where the idea for the story came from
originally.”

“He better be
fucking hot, that’s all I can say.”

She rode my
back for the rest of the day. I’d never worked so hard in my life
for so little praise before. I had to close my eyes, begging for
patience and serenity from whatever higher being was on duty today.
And by the end of the day I was sincerely hoping that she’d go
blank, spending her entire first show trying to remember her own
name. When she finally deigned that I’d slaved enough for one day,
I rang Heller, tired and in pain and he promised to come for me as
soon as possible. Mada,
sorry, Ms Grobetsky
, stared out of
the window that overlooked the entrance, waiting for his
appearance.

“If he’s not
absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, I am not even going to meet him.
Understand?”

I understood.
She’d told me that five times already. Finally, the black Mercedes
pulled up and Heller stepped out of the vehicle to speak to the
security guard. I could tell, even from this distance, that the
guard knew who he was, probably aspiring to join
Heller’s
one day. I watched Mada dispassionately, noting how her expression
dramatically altered from bored to interested to extremely excited
to overwhelmingly passionate, all in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, my God! Is
that him?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. My.
God.”

“I told you he
was good-looking.”

“Oh, my God!
Yes, yes, yes! Get him on my show. Immediately! Let’s go meet and
greet.”

She buzzed the
guard and instructed him to direct Heller up to the office. I sat
down gratefully, muscles screaming, and watched while Mada tried to
cannibalise Heller on his arrival. He countered skilfully with a
charm offensive that almost had Mada stripping off her clothes in
front of me.

Upset, I was
forced to witness as their discussion of the proposed story on
Heller’s
morphed into overt flirting that soon became loaded
with intent. I jumped up and turned my back on them, staring out of
the window, watching as the security guard indiscreetly scratched
his balls. I heard Heller and Mada make a date for the following
evening.

I sat in stony
silence on the drive home. Usually clueless about my emotions, this
time he sensed a certain moodiness in me. Maybe it was because I
hadn’t said one word to him. “You don’t mind me seeing her do you,
Matilda?”

“No Heller, I’m
thrilled that you’re going to screw my tyrannical new bitch of a
boss. I hope you both live happily ever after.”

“You are
annoyed.”

I didn’t want
to talk to him. He was so stupid sometimes that I couldn’t stand
explaining things to him. We drove in silence and he threw me
puzzled glances from time to time. As soon as we arrived back in
the Warehouse garage, I slammed the car door and stormed towards
the stairs.

“Matilda,” he
said firmly, grasping my arm and spinning me around. “What’s the
matter?”

“Nothing,” I
snapped, shaking my arm free.

“Is it because
of that woman?”

Tears pricked
in my eyes and I didn’t want him to see them. I needed fresh air
and solitude. I pounded up the stairs to the rooftop.

“Matilda,” he
called after me, but I didn’t stop or turn around.

Chapter
28

I had twenty
minutes of solitude. I lay back on one of the sun lounges and tried
to think about my relationship with Heller in logical, detached
terms. I failed. I failed miserably, ending up staring out at the
late afternoon sky, watching the colours change as the sun set,
thinking about nothing much at all.

Heller quietly
joined me and sat on the adjacent lounge, facing me. He reached out
and grasped my hand, then reached forward and traced one of the
tear tracks down my face.

“Matilda, I
need this story to be, not just positive, but glowing. I need the
good publicity. If sleeping with her sweetens her up, then I’ll
sleep with her. It’s just a business decision, like any other.”

“Sure,” I said
flatly, keeping my eyes on that beautiful, multicoloured sky.

“It doesn’t
mean anything.”

“If you say
so.”

He sighed in
frustration, running his hand through his hair. He moved over to
sit on my sun lounge, forcing me to shift over. He leaned down
towards me, a hand either side of my head, blocking my view.

“Do you
remember when we went away and you whispered something to me one
night that you thought I wouldn’t hear?”

That drew a
small, reluctant smile from me. How foolish I’d been to think
that.

“Do you
remember what you said?

“Of course I
do.” I looked at him then.

“That was the
most important thing anybody has ever said to me.” I remained
silent, but kept my eyes on his. “I have that memory locked in
here,” he tapped on his chest a couple of times. “And when nobody’s
around I take it out and cherish it again.” He smiled. “It’s
becoming a little tattered from overuse.”

That forced
another smile from me. “That’s so corny.”

“Maybe, but
it’s true.” He pointed down at his pants. “So what happens with
this
, doesn’t affect what happens with
this
.” He
tapped his chest again. “There’s only one thing locked in there and
it’s what you whispered to me that night.”

He lay down
next to me on the lounge and cradled me as we both quietly watched
the light fading from the sky and evening falling, the stars
beginning to shine.

I finally
stirred, in danger of falling asleep. “I better check on
Daniel.”

“He’s fine. I
checked on him when we came home. He’s probably sleeping again. The
doctor left him some sleeping tablets.”

“How is his . .
. mental state?”

“Fragile. I’m
not leaving him alone for a second. Sid, Clive and I are on a
roster with him.”

“I could help
too.”

“No, Matilda. I
want someone who’s strong enough to stop him from whatever he tries
to do.”

“Will he
recover?”

“I think so.
We’ve had . . . bad patches with him before, but nothing for a long
time.”

“Maybe you
should find him a psychologist?”

“
No!
” I
drew back at his vehemence. “I’m not having someone messing with
his head. Enough people have done that in his life already.”

“He means a lot
to you, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.” A simple
answer to express a world of emotions.

“Have you done
anything about what happened yet?”

“Not yet. I’m
patient. I can wait until Daniel is ready to talk about it. And
then I’ll decide what will happen.” And there didn’t seem to be any
more to say on the matter.

The next day, I
did the awful commute again and was ragged by the time I arrived at
work. Mada had reached a pitch of excitement over her first show,
or maybe it was her forthcoming date this evening with Heller.
Whatever it was, she was an absolute gorgon the whole day, and by
the time I left work and commuted home, I was too exhausted to even
eat, falling straight into bed after a quick visit to Daniel.

Despite my
secret wishes, Mada’s debut show went well and she was almost
purring the next morning, slinking over to my desk.

“That man.
Jesus! I’ve never had my brains so comprehensively fucked out
before. It was incredible.”

“Thanks for
sharing,” I said flatly. I picked up the phone to discourage her
from any further conversation. It didn’t work.

“God, the
things he did! Well, I don’t need to tell you. You’ve been there
and done that, I suppose.”

“I haven’t
slept with Heller.” And it was only a half-lie.

“Why not?” She
slapped her hand to her mouth in an ‘oops, silly me’ gesture.
“Sorry, that was thoughtless of me. You’re a lesbian, aren’t
you?”

“No! He’s just
not my type,” I lied.

“God, I would
have thought he’s
every
woman’s type.” Understanding
blossomed in her eyes. “Oh, I get it. You prefer the wimpier kind
of guys. Like Trent.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“You’re banging
Trent, aren’t you? That’s why he lets you ‘work’ from his
place.”

“No, that’s not
why. Unlike some people, he was kind enough to take pity on me for
the long commute I’m forced to suffer to get here. I live closer to
his place. It’s as simple as that.”

I went back to
work, ignoring her until she drifted away.

The next day
filming began on her story about
Heller’s
, causing a great
commotion at the Warehouse. Daniel rallied remarkably well, though
still recovering from his injuries, stepping in to organise
everything with his usual calmness and efficiency. He confided in a
quiet moment as we waited for the camera crew to set up in Heller’s
office, that the doctor had started him on a course of powerful
antidepressants until he was emotionally stronger.

“How do you
feel on them?” I asked him.

“Even. No ups
or downs. I feel a lot better. I don’t feel as though I want to . .
. You know. They’re helping.”

I hugged him
tightly. “Thank God for that. Please keep taking them, Danny.”

“Heller didn’t
want me to take them.”

“He’s not
always right. And he’s the last person who should be giving advice
on dealing with emotional issues. He doesn’t have any.”

Daniel laughed.
“Yeah, I guess.”

“And you know
that my door’s always open for you, sweetie. Night or day, any
time.”

He kissed me on
the cheek and was called away to deal with some minor emergency
relating to the number of power points in Heller’s office.

I sat in on
Mada’s interview with Heller. Naturally, he performed well, not
flustered nor bothered by either the camera or her inane, simpering
questions.

“Thank you for
speaking with us today, Heller,” she said as she wrapped up. “But
before we finish, I know that all the women out there will want to
know if there’s a special somebody in your life at the moment?”

His eyes flew
to mine. “Yes,” he said, smiling at me. I smiled back, warmth
spreading throughout my body. Mada frowned. It wasn’t the answer
she’d wanted.

“I think we’ll
cut that bit,” she muttered to the camera crew as we left his
office.

I escorted her
downstairs to the security section where she’d arranged to hitch a
lift with a team for the rest of the day. Clive’s grim, stony
demeanour put her off a little, but she perked up when she saw the
two bulky men she’d be partnered with for the day. She did a quick,
unproductive interview with Clive who answered every question in
monosyllables, then a pre-interview with the two men who weren’t
much more talkative, before joining them in their vehicle. I didn’t
go along with them, space needed in the back seat for the
cameraman.

I went to my
flat and made lunch, giving myself the rest of the day off. I spent
it ringing Dixie and my mum. To my surprise, Trent rang me. He’d
taken himself off to his beach house to recuperate and was enjoying
some quiet relaxation. I complained about my new boss and he
sympathised, proclaiming her to be a pushy upstart. And with that
comment, I guessed that he’d watched her debut and wasn’t pleased
by the competition.

“After that
night, I was sure you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me again.
That’s why you haven’t contacted me since, isn’t it?” I asked.

“It’s not your
fault we were attacked by that madman. I didn’t ring you because I
needed some downtime. And I also thought you might be angry with me
for being so useless, leaving you to deal with Beyrer by yourself.
What happened to him anyway?”

“Heller took
care of him.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”
And that wasn’t a lie. After all, I didn’t
know
what had
happened to Beyrer, although I had my suspicions. “Mada’s doing the
story on Heller.”