He continued, “There should
be some towels in the bathroom cupboard and I’ve grabbed another
set of clean clothes for you to change into. When you’re finished
here come back down to the office.” He’d kindly brought up some
soap, shampoo and conditioner for me, as well as some disinfectant
cream and bandaids.
I took a quick
shower in my lovely new shower cubicle, the water jets on
full-blast to dislodge any stubborn remnants of glass. One check in
the mirror afterwards confirmed my suspicion that I now resembled
Edward Scissorhands’ sister, and I patched myself up as best I
could. I slipped into the expensive man’s jeans and long-sleeved
t-shirt that Daniel had left me. The people here seem to love
dressing well , I thought. I presumed the clothes were Daniel’s
again and I hoped I didn’t also end up bleeding all over them.
Back in the
office, Daniel guided me through the appointment paperwork and
arranged for my staff card and keys to the building. As he did
that, he filled me in on me a few work rules, including one that
reinforced my impression that the Warehouse was not a place where
you could spontaneously invite people over. Heller hadn’t been
joking when he said that he screened everyone who came to the
building. I wondered if he would let Dixie visit.
We were about
to commence our tour of the Warehouse when Heller walked back
through the door. He had obviously showered as well and like me,
was covered in scratches and cuts. He had changed out of his suit
into black jeans and a tight, muscle-hugging dark green t-shirt.
Having already been bowled over by his stunning good looks, you
would expect that I’d be better prepared this time. But you’d be
so, so wrong! Just at the sight of him again, my heart stopped, my
stomach flipped, my brain froze and my private parts grew hot and
tingly. God, he was absolutely heavenly. I tried to settle myself,
swiftly looking away so that nobody could see my desperate
expression. I really needed to find a boyfriend. Fast.
“Thank you,
Daniel. I’ve decided to take Ms Chalmers to collect her belongings
myself now,” he said.
“No worries,
Heller,” Daniel told him. “We’ve finished with the paperwork for
now anyway.” He turned to me. “Welcome to Heller’s , Tilly. I
hope you enjoy working here.” I smiled at him. He was a very nice
man and I could tell I was going to like him a lot. With a
surreptitious wink, he sauntered away, whistling to himself.
“Let’s go,”
Heller said abruptly and disappeared quickly down the stairs. I
hurriedly followed him down to the basement level, hobbling in my
tight court shoes, puffing by the time I got there.
“You’re not
very fit,” he remarked scornfully, and if I hadn’t literally been
fighting for breath I might have shot him an acidic response. He
climbed into a shiny black Mercedes 4WD, its vanity number plate
gold-coloured with black lettering spelling out HELLER. No
question over who owned this one , I thought with a well-hidden
smile as I clambered into the passenger side. I had barely begun
doing up my seatbelt when the vehicle squealed backwards and shot
off up the driveway to the entrance to the garage. On the street
though, he drove carefully. I noticed that he regularly checked his
rearview and sideview mirrors, prudently stuck to the speed limits,
and cautiously obeyed all road signals – almost as though he was
trying not to attract attention. It was the complete opposite of my
driving style. I regularly attract far too much attention from the
traffic police. That was on the rare occasions when I was flush
enough to actually own a car though. Mostly I was forced to use the
bus for my transport needs.
Heller didn’t
even bother to ask me where I lived, but confidently guided the
Mercedes in the right direction. Of course, he already
knows , I thought sourly. We didn’t speak on the trip. I stole
some glances at his perfect profile, but he kept his eyes firmly
fixed on the road. I went at
be some towels in the bathroom cupboard and I’ve grabbed another
set of clean clothes for you to change into. When you’re finished
here come back down to the office.” He’d kindly brought up some
soap, shampoo and conditioner for me, as well as some disinfectant
cream and bandaids.
I took a quick
shower in my lovely new shower cubicle, the water jets on
full-blast to dislodge any stubborn remnants of glass. One check in
the mirror afterwards confirmed my suspicion that I now resembled
Edward Scissorhands’ sister, and I patched myself up as best I
could. I slipped into the expensive man’s jeans and long-sleeved
t-shirt that Daniel had left me. The people here seem to love
dressing well , I thought. I presumed the clothes were Daniel’s
again and I hoped I didn’t also end up bleeding all over them.
Back in the
office, Daniel guided me through the appointment paperwork and
arranged for my staff card and keys to the building. As he did
that, he filled me in on me a few work rules, including one that
reinforced my impression that the Warehouse was not a place where
you could spontaneously invite people over. Heller hadn’t been
joking when he said that he screened everyone who came to the
building. I wondered if he would let Dixie visit.
We were about
to commence our tour of the Warehouse when Heller walked back
through the door. He had obviously showered as well and like me,
was covered in scratches and cuts. He had changed out of his suit
into black jeans and a tight, muscle-hugging dark green t-shirt.
Having already been bowled over by his stunning good looks, you
would expect that I’d be better prepared this time. But you’d be
so, so wrong! Just at the sight of him again, my heart stopped, my
stomach flipped, my brain froze and my private parts grew hot and
tingly. God, he was absolutely heavenly. I tried to settle myself,
swiftly looking away so that nobody could see my desperate
expression. I really needed to find a boyfriend. Fast.
“Thank you,
Daniel. I’ve decided to take Ms Chalmers to collect her belongings
myself now,” he said.
“No worries,
Heller,” Daniel told him. “We’ve finished with the paperwork for
now anyway.” He turned to me. “Welcome to Heller’s , Tilly. I
hope you enjoy working here.” I smiled at him. He was a very nice
man and I could tell I was going to like him a lot. With a
surreptitious wink, he sauntered away, whistling to himself.
“Let’s go,”
Heller said abruptly and disappeared quickly down the stairs. I
hurriedly followed him down to the basement level, hobbling in my
tight court shoes, puffing by the time I got there.
“You’re not
very fit,” he remarked scornfully, and if I hadn’t literally been
fighting for breath I might have shot him an acidic response. He
climbed into a shiny black Mercedes 4WD, its vanity number plate
gold-coloured with black lettering spelling out HELLER. No
question over who owned this one , I thought with a well-hidden
smile as I clambered into the passenger side. I had barely begun
doing up my seatbelt when the vehicle squealed backwards and shot
off up the driveway to the entrance to the garage. On the street
though, he drove carefully. I noticed that he regularly checked his
rearview and sideview mirrors, prudently stuck to the speed limits,
and cautiously obeyed all road signals – almost as though he was
trying not to attract attention. It was the complete opposite of my
driving style. I regularly attract far too much attention from the
traffic police. That was on the rare occasions when I was flush
enough to actually own a car though. Mostly I was forced to use the
bus for my transport needs.
Heller didn’t
even bother to ask me where I lived, but confidently guided the
Mercedes in the right direction. Of course, he already
knows , I thought sourly. We didn’t speak on the trip. I stole
some glances at his perfect profile, but he kept his eyes firmly
fixed on the road. I went at
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