Heller by J.D. Nixon

for a while now. To me, he’s more like an older brother
than a boss. I guess it’s not like a normal office.”
    “I figured
that out all by myself,” I teased. “Seriously though, the
relationships between you all intrigue me. Take Niq. You said
Heller isn’t related to him, but he’s a minor, isn’t he? I don’t
want to be nosy, but shouldn’t he be living with his family?”
    Daniel gazed
at me for a few long moments, his lovely brown eyes filled with a
pained emotion I couldn’t decipher.
    “Tilly,” he
said sadly, “you come from a fairly happy and normal family, I
assume.” I nodded, thinking of my much-loved parents and two older
brothers and their families. “That’s not the case with some people.
Niq’s family is us. He doesn’t have another family. Neither do I.
Nor the twins. Nor Heller, as far as I know. We’ve made a family,
and a business, between us.”
    “Oh hell. I’m
so sorry, Daniel,” I said contritely, cursing my nosiness. “I
didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious about my new
work-mates.”
    “I know, I
know,” he soothed, holding out his palms in a defensive manner.
“Heller told us that a new person would be inquisitive. It’s cool.
Let’s just say that without Heller I wouldn’t be here today. I know
that sounds melodramatic, but he really has been a saviour for all
of us here. He took us in and brought us up when the rest of the
world had kicked us to the gutter.” Daniel paused. “I suppose you
could say that Heller likes to collect damaged people.” And he
smiled at me sadly with his terribly beautiful crooked smile. I
felt lower than the bottom of a politician’s shoe at that
moment.
    Daniel’s
mobile rang and he spoke for a few moments, then apologised because
he had to leave as Heller needed him back in the office. I returned
to my flat and spent my first afternoon and evening at the
Warehouse unpacking, ‘shopping’ in the pantry and luxuriating in a
long hot bath. It was blissful and so quiet. Everything was clean,
fresh and tidy, and my cupboards were full of good food. And best
of all, there were no pimply, horny engineering students around,
trying to cop a feel at every opportunity. I was in heaven.
    I pulled on
some old track suit pants and a baggy t-shirt. On my way to the
kitchen to begin dinner preparations, I was startled when Daniel
and Niq walked into my flat. I must have forgotten to lock the door
behind me when I came back from the pantry.
    “We came to
see how you were settling in,” Daniel smiled, examining my dinner
ingredients. “Ooh, that looks great. What are you making?”
    “Baked salmon
with dill and caper sauce, baked baby potatoes and an avocado and
rocket salad. Followed by some fresh strawberries and cream.” All
the food I craved when eating stolen burgers night after night.
    Daniel and Niq
exchanged glances.
    “That sounds
yum! Can I have dinner with you?” asked Niq.
    Daniel
scolded, “Niq, it’s rude to invite yourself to dinner.”
    I smiled.
“That’s okay. He can have dinner with me. Would you like to as
well, Daniel?”
    “If it’s not
any trouble, Tilly. It does sound delicious and much better than
what I was going to cook.”
    “Which is the
same thing he cooks every night,” complained Niq with all the scorn
a teenager can muster – a veritable Mount Everest of scorn. “The
only thing he knows how to cook. Pasta! Nothing but pasta, all the
time. Pasta today, pasta yesterday, pasta tomorrow.”
    Daniel
blushed, but admitted sheepishly, “It’s true. I haven’t got a clue
how to cook.”
    “You’re going
to have to run some errands for me though,” I demanded. “I need two
more pieces of salmon and some dill and flat-leaf parsley from the
herb garden.”
    “What’s dill?”
asked Daniel with a puzzled expression.
    “We haven’t
got a herb garden,” frowned Niq.
    “Yes, we have.
It’s on the roof-top,” I explained patiently.
    “Is that a
herb garden? I thought it was a bunch of