take care of her, Boss?” And coming from
a big brute like him, that comment sounded more menacing than
considerate.
“No Clive,
this is Matilda Chalmers. I was in the middle of an interview with
her for the client manager position when this happened,” Heller
explained, indicating the window. “Ms Chalmers, this is Clive
Trilby and this,” hand waving to the other one, “is his brother,
Sid Trilby. Clive runs my security section and Sid’s in charge of
the surveillance team.”
“I’m sure
you’ll understand if I don’t offer to shake your hands,” I said,
holding out my bleeding palms to them like a tortured saint begging
for mercy. “Very nice to meet you both though. I’m just leaving.”
Clive stared at me coldly and Sid nodded and smiled. Well, I think
it was a smile. It cracked his stony countenance, revealing
surprisingly tiny regular teeth. But his smiling face was only
marginally less alarming than his angry face.
“You’re not
going anywhere,” Heller ordered. “You need more first aid and we
haven’t finished our interview yet.”
My mouth
opened and closed like a slow-witted fish. Did he honestly think I
was going to hang around to be physically and mentally tortured
some more? Oh man, he was a real piece of work! The interview was
well and truly over as far as I was concerned.
“What do you
mean more first aid?” asked Sid.
“Niq kicked
her in the face earlier,” Heller answered, regarding me
unsmilingly.
“Trouble-magnet, is she?” Clive scorned, his lip curling.
“Apparently,”
replied Heller, and they stared impolitely, almost as if waiting
for some other disaster to befall me. When I failed to oblige, they
turned away and resumed their discussion. I bristled indignantly
with the unfairness of it all. As if being kicked in the face and
nearly blown to pieces by a ball thingy was my fault!
“Look, I
appreciate your willingness to resume our interview, Mr . . . um .
. . Heller, but I’m slowly bleeding to death here and I’m sure you
understand that after everything today, I just want to go home.” I
carefully picked up my handbag with my stinging hands, the blood
smearing all over the cream leather-look material. “Oh, now look
what’s happened! That will never come out. This has been the worst
day I’ve ever had.” I could have cried in frustration.
“Stop!” Heller
ordered again. Before I could blink he was standing closely in
front of me, looking down. “You haven’t told me what that other job
was yet.”
I raised my
eyes to him and sighed. What did it matter if I embarrassed myself
before him one last time? I’d never see him again and my parents
had always told me to take pride in my work, no matter what I did.
So I took their advice and met his eyes as I spoke. “I played a
slice of watermelon in a fruit salad song-and-dance routine. It was
a big hit with the primary school kids.”
He closed his
eyes briefly and his beautiful lips clamped together as if to
suppress a shout of laughter. He couldn’t stop them twitching at
the ends though. Fed up, I spun around, determined to finally
leave. He grabbed me by the arm and turned me back around
again.
“I was just
about to offer you the job on a one month trial. I’m impressed by
your ability to handle unexpected events in a calm and collected
way. You haven’t fallen to pieces, despite today’s many, er,
misfortunes. I didn’t see that in any of the other applicants, and
frankly it’s a vital skill in this office.” He paused for a moment.
“Plus, you’re very entertaining.”
I shook off
his hand angrily. “I’m not here to entertain you! I was looking for
a job, but I’m no longer interested in this one,” I said huffily as
I started to stalk out of the office again, not without some
satisfaction I confess. But I also knew that I had to get out of
here before something else happened to me.
He mentioned
the salary and I stopped dead in my tracks at his office door,
hesitantly rotating,
a big brute like him, that comment sounded more menacing than
considerate.
“No Clive,
this is Matilda Chalmers. I was in the middle of an interview with
her for the client manager position when this happened,” Heller
explained, indicating the window. “Ms Chalmers, this is Clive
Trilby and this,” hand waving to the other one, “is his brother,
Sid Trilby. Clive runs my security section and Sid’s in charge of
the surveillance team.”
“I’m sure
you’ll understand if I don’t offer to shake your hands,” I said,
holding out my bleeding palms to them like a tortured saint begging
for mercy. “Very nice to meet you both though. I’m just leaving.”
Clive stared at me coldly and Sid nodded and smiled. Well, I think
it was a smile. It cracked his stony countenance, revealing
surprisingly tiny regular teeth. But his smiling face was only
marginally less alarming than his angry face.
“You’re not
going anywhere,” Heller ordered. “You need more first aid and we
haven’t finished our interview yet.”
My mouth
opened and closed like a slow-witted fish. Did he honestly think I
was going to hang around to be physically and mentally tortured
some more? Oh man, he was a real piece of work! The interview was
well and truly over as far as I was concerned.
“What do you
mean more first aid?” asked Sid.
“Niq kicked
her in the face earlier,” Heller answered, regarding me
unsmilingly.
“Trouble-magnet, is she?” Clive scorned, his lip curling.
“Apparently,”
replied Heller, and they stared impolitely, almost as if waiting
for some other disaster to befall me. When I failed to oblige, they
turned away and resumed their discussion. I bristled indignantly
with the unfairness of it all. As if being kicked in the face and
nearly blown to pieces by a ball thingy was my fault!
“Look, I
appreciate your willingness to resume our interview, Mr . . . um .
. . Heller, but I’m slowly bleeding to death here and I’m sure you
understand that after everything today, I just want to go home.” I
carefully picked up my handbag with my stinging hands, the blood
smearing all over the cream leather-look material. “Oh, now look
what’s happened! That will never come out. This has been the worst
day I’ve ever had.” I could have cried in frustration.
“Stop!” Heller
ordered again. Before I could blink he was standing closely in
front of me, looking down. “You haven’t told me what that other job
was yet.”
I raised my
eyes to him and sighed. What did it matter if I embarrassed myself
before him one last time? I’d never see him again and my parents
had always told me to take pride in my work, no matter what I did.
So I took their advice and met his eyes as I spoke. “I played a
slice of watermelon in a fruit salad song-and-dance routine. It was
a big hit with the primary school kids.”
He closed his
eyes briefly and his beautiful lips clamped together as if to
suppress a shout of laughter. He couldn’t stop them twitching at
the ends though. Fed up, I spun around, determined to finally
leave. He grabbed me by the arm and turned me back around
again.
“I was just
about to offer you the job on a one month trial. I’m impressed by
your ability to handle unexpected events in a calm and collected
way. You haven’t fallen to pieces, despite today’s many, er,
misfortunes. I didn’t see that in any of the other applicants, and
frankly it’s a vital skill in this office.” He paused for a moment.
“Plus, you’re very entertaining.”
I shook off
his hand angrily. “I’m not here to entertain you! I was looking for
a job, but I’m no longer interested in this one,” I said huffily as
I started to stalk out of the office again, not without some
satisfaction I confess. But I also knew that I had to get out of
here before something else happened to me.
He mentioned
the salary and I stopped dead in my tracks at his office door,
hesitantly rotating,
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