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name, Matilda, for some reason
he’s never bothered to explain, even though I hate it. I thought I
wanted to be an actor before I landed my current job with Heller
about five months ago. We’ve been through a lot together already,
including a fairly bumpy road determining the exact nature of our
own relationship, but had currently settled on a cease-fire. He let
me see my boyfriend, Will, but insisted on picking me up at
midnight and wouldn’t let me stay over under any circumstances.
    Yeah, yeah, I can hear you all
asking why the hell would I put up with such chauvinistic nonsense,
being the modern woman that I am? Well, the truth is that this is the compromise position. If Heller had his way, I
wouldn’t be allowed to see or visit, or especially sleep
with Will at all. He’s a little over-protective like that.
    But when I turned my back on
acting (with no real loss to the acting world, I should confess), I
made a commitment to Heller to be his loyal employee and to abide
by the Rules of Heller. In return, he promised to allow me some
freedom, which is how I get to be with Will. It sounds restrictive,
but my job comes with many perks, including interesting, varied and
sometimes dangerous work, free rent, an enormous salary, free food
and entertainment, free styling and clothes, good friends, and best
of all, Heller himself. He’s kind of a boss with benefits, if you
know what I mean, and we fooled around from time to time. Not that
we’d ever slept together, I just want to make that perfectly clear.
I mean, he’s my boss , for God’s sake! How smart would that
be? Although I’d be lying if I said I’d never been tempted,
especially before I met Will and hadn’t had any action for a long,
long time. I’d been very tempted by my beautiful boss.
    “So when do I get to meet this
‘boyfriend’ of yours?” He always made that word sound like some
kind of disease I’d accidently picked up while on holiday.
    “Never! You did say you would
like to hurt him when you met him or have you forgotten that?
Because I haven’t.”
    He shrugged. “It was merely an
expression.”
    “Sure it was. But I’m not
willing to risk it.”
    We’d had a very tense moment a
few months ago, after Will’s and my first proper date. Will had
taken me to a movie and we’d eaten at a nice restaurant, sharing
some delightfully romantic smooches sitting on a vantage point near
the harbour while we watched the boats coming and going.
Afterwards, he’d invited me back to his place for a nightcap and
the second he’d closed the door, I’d jumped his bones, sex-starved
and desperate. The poor guy hadn’t stood a chance and I’d used him
mercilessly for hours, to the point of collapse. We never did get
around to having that nightcap.
    There had been a dossier sitting
on my kitchen bench when Heller had picked me up and I’d returned
to my flat late that evening. I’d approached it slowly and warily.
The name on the front had been written in Heller’s bold, elegant
script – William Joseph Armstrong . I’d been
immediately and exceptionally pissed off. I had explicitly asked
Heller not to run a check on Will, because I didn’t want to
know everything about him before we had even started to get to know
each other.
    Unfortunately though, I am a
naturally nosy creature and instead of having the integrity to
refuse to look, I had found myself opening the file and flicking
through the pages. There were school and university records, notes
about his family and friends, details of his career as a high
school science teacher. A couple of speeding fines. A court
appearance for being drunk and disorderly after a buck’s night ten
years ago when he was twenty-five. Handwritten notes, obviously
recorded after covert interviews with ex-girlfriends and ex-bosses.
A few photos, including a cute one of him in his graduation robes
taken with his parents, grandparents and sister. Nothing dramatic.
No current or ex-wives, no children, no prison