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handed it to me.
    “Your nose is
bleeding,” he commented, a charming northern European accent
tingeing his voice. German? Danish? I took the handkerchief and
gingerly dabbed at my aching nose, eyes fixed on him still. Would I
ever be able to look away?
    “I kicked her
in the face,” Niq confessed. Heller turned his frown on Niq before
stepping alarmingly close to me. My heart started racing. He
reached towards me, gently grasped the bridge of my nose with his
fingers and moved it around carefully. Somehow I managed to stifle
my yelp of pain, although my eyes watered again. When he stepped
back afterwards, I suddenly wished he hadn’t, despite the extra
pain he had caused. I wanted to catch the scent of his tantalising
cologne again. He stared at me and frowned once more, his blue eyes
boring into mine relentlessly.
    “It’s not
broken,” he diagnosed coolly. I delicately held the handkerchief to
my nostrils to stem the flow of blood, trying to ignore the
screaming pain. I despaired of the terrible first impression I was
making with this extraordinary man, dripping blood onto my suit and
onto his carpet. He was immaculately groomed and you could tell at
a glance that appearances were important to him.
    “Niq, what in
God’s name were you doing in the lift? I have told you a hundred
times that it is not safe!” Daniel seethed. Heller spun his blue
spotlights back to Niq, giving me a brief reprieve. The little Goth
hung his head and seemed to shrink a bit smaller at the rebuke. I
was immediately sorry for him. He was just a kid, after all.
    “It’s my
fault,” I spoke up, my voice muffled through the hankie. “Niq
wanted to take the stairs, but I insisted on the lift. I’m a fan.”
Three pairs of eyes – two blue, one brown – regarded me with doubt.
Heedlessly, I blustered on. “Of antique lifts, that is. A huge fan.
I just can’t resist them. Have to ride in them every time I find
one, no matter what condition it’s in.”
    Niq smiled up
at me gratefully through his fringe again. The other two were
uncertain what to say at my unexpected and far-fetched explanation,
so wisely ignored it.
    Heller turned
to Daniel. “Please give Ms Chalmers some first aid and a few
minutes to compose herself before bringing her into my office.”
    Daniel nodded
and Heller returned to his office. God, what a hard-arse , I
thought, watching him walk away. I’d been about to suggest that I
turn around and go home, that we all cut our losses and pretend
that today had never happened. Instead I was getting a few minutes
to ‘compose myself’ before carrying on with an interview.
    Daniel smiled
faintly at me. “Let’s start again, shall we? Thank you for coming
here today, Ms Chalmers. I’m Daniel, the office manager for our
business, Heller’s Security & Surveillance . And that was
Heller, the owner of the business. You’ve met Niq, our little
troublemaker, already. Did you have any problem finding us?”
    His friendly,
dark chocolate eyes assessed me subtly. I wondered how I stacked up
in comparison to the other applicants for the position, thinking
that surely none of them had experienced such an unpromising start
to their interview. He was a lean, well-dressed young man, wearing
a nicely tailored dark gray suit and a black shirt with an H monogrammed on the pocket in gold thread,
identical to the H on the security men’s polo
shirts. He was about the same age as me, mid-twenties, with a
stylish haircut and an attractive face, long lashes and a
sympathetic welcoming smile. I was fairly sure it was his lovely
voice I’d heard on the phone and warmed to him instantly.
    But his good
looks were shockingly marred by an old jagged scar that ripped his
face in a semi-circle from the edge of his left eye down to his
mouth. My eyes flicked involuntarily to the scar, before I forced
myself to look back into his eyes. I wondered briefly what kind of
accident could have caused such terrible damage. His eyes searched
my face for