Book of Dreams

For Kyle,
my inspiration
for many a great
character.

Four hours of torture to go before Kyle could hang up his smelly overalls and piss off to the pub.

He’d never wanted this job — he couldn’t imagine who, in their right mind, would want to be a cleaner — but as his Centrelink officer had managed to place him in a position where he could work alongside his best mate, Matt, Kyle had decided he’d stick it out for a while. The money was okay and Matt seemed to be enjoying the work; but then, Matt usually enjoyed himself no matter what he was doing. Kyle wasn’t too concerned about this ‘bettering himself’ fetish Matt was having. Matt would get over it like he always did, and then they could go back to being dope smoking, dole bludging bums and all would be right with the world.

The clock above the lunchroom door chimed six times to announce 6 p.m. — starting time. As Matt had yet to show, Kyle decided to grab another cup of coffee and catch a bit of the news.

The television ran twenty-four hours a day, as did the Nivok Industries building; there was always some member of staff hanging around the lunchroom no matter what the hour. At present, one of the older security guards was grabbing his tea break. He had his feet up on a table as he watched television.

‘Hey, Charlie.’ Kyle sat down opposite the guard, eyeing off a couple of pieces of cake in the old bloke’s lunchbox. ‘Your missus spoils you something awful.’

‘There’s an extra slice there.’ Charlie’s eyes remained transfixed on the news report. ‘
Anything
to stop you nicking mine.’

‘God bless that sweet, sweet woman,’ Kyle exclaimed, doing away with the plastic wrap.

He sat back with his cup of coffee to admire the look of the moist piece of orange cake before hoeing it down. His sweet tooth satisfied, Kyle’s attention turned to the news broadcast. ‘Hey!’ He recognised the man on the screen. ‘Isn’t that God?’

‘Yes, that’s the boss. James Nivok.’ Charlie glanced at Kyle as he reached for his tea. ‘One of the wealthiest men in the world.’

‘So what’s he done to get on the news?’ Kyle sipped at his coffee, noting the time was now ten past the hour.

‘Some loony tried to attack his young niece at a Nivok Industries “do” last night.’ Charlie shook his head in disgust. ‘That’s her there, Zoe Nivok.’ He motioned to the young woman now featuring on the screen.

Kyle eyeballed the attractive, well-dressed female with contempt. ‘I’ve seen her around.’

‘
After last night’s interruption
,’ the report said, over the footage of Zoe Nivok, ‘
it was announced that a large expanse of land in far North Queensland, which has been tied up by the late David Nivok’s will for twenty years, will finally be made available for development. It has been agreed between James Nivok of Nivok Industries and the young heiress that on her 21st birthday, when the land is released to her along with the remainder of the family estate, that the property will be signed over to her uncle’s company for the tidy sum of five million dollars.
’

‘Get-the-fuck-outta-here!’ Kyle shot out of his slouched position and leant forward in his chair to hear the rest. ‘That must be some hunk of property.’

‘
A price has yet to be set for Miss Nivok’s inheritance of nearly two-thirds of
all
Nivok Industries
.’

‘Sheesh!’ Charlie shook his head, as the news broadcast cut to another story. ‘What I wouldn’t give to be a handsome twenty-one year old again.’

Kyle grinned at the old man’s folly. ‘Your missus was a much better catch.’ His eyes turned to the remaining piece of cake.

‘Go on,’ Charlie growled, warmed by the truth of Kyle’s comment.

As Kyle reached for his reward Matt came charging through the large double doors of the lunchroom, leaving them swinging in his wake. He was sporting a large video camera perched on his shoulder, and filmed Kyle scoffing down his cake as he approached.

‘Where the hell did you get that from?’ Kyle queried with his mouth full, knowing Matt was usually as broke as he was.

‘Isn’t it a beauty?’ Matt circled Kyle as he zoomed the camera focus in on him. ‘I got it on loan from my Uncle Max.’

‘The quack?’ Kyle recalled what Matt had told him of the man.

‘That’s right,’ grinned Matt. ‘He said I could borrow it for a couple of weeks … see if I have any aptitude for it.’

‘Oh, give me a break.’ Kyle pushed the camera out of his face, and Matt ceased filming. ‘You’re going to be a cameraman now, is that it?’

‘Yeah, why not?’ Matt’s face beamed with excitement. As always, there was not a doubt in his mind that this goal was achievable. ‘Current affairs … riots, bombs,
crime
… wherever the news breaks.’ He raised the camera to resume filming Kyle.

‘Will you quit it!’ Kyle shoved the camera aside, harder this time. ‘If you want to film someone, go shoot your girlfriend … she just inherited five million bucks. There ought to be a story in that.’

‘My girlfriend?’ Matt frowned, having to think about it.

‘Up on ten?’ Kyle hinted.

‘Zoe?’ Matt asked, as she was the only person he really knew on the tenth floor.

Kyle nodded, his brows raised for added assurance.

‘Jeez, I knew she was inheriting some money, but
five million
… sheesh!’

‘That’s what I said.’ Charlie seconded Matt’s amazement.

‘You misunderstand me,’ Kyle added. ‘The five million is one tiny piece of what she’s actually inherited.’

The double doors slammed wide as Mr Grego, the cleaning supervisor, stormed in, searching for his missing team. ‘Are you two on
holiday
?’

‘No sir.’ Matt spoke up, knowing he would handle the situation more diplomatically than Kyle would. ‘I —’

‘Put that thing away!’ Grego cut him off, referring to the camera. ‘You’ve got to the count of five to get out of my sight, or you’re both out of a job. One, two …’

Matt grabbed hold of the back of Kyle’s overalls, thinking that his friend might hold their supervisor to his word.

‘Three, four …’ Grego counted down, as Matt hauled Kyle to the door.

Kyle paused at the exit to smile back at his boss.

‘Five!’ the supervisor roared, angered by the lad’s defiance, but Kyle made sure to duck out of his line of vision by the appointed time. Grego let the incident pass.

The sound of the large rickety bin he towed always drove Kyle nuts. He hated hauling it around; he hated emptying trashcans. It was mind-numbingly boring work and, in his opinion, more degrading than not having a job. Tonight’s rubbish round was even more depressing than usual given that he was forced to listen to Matt ranting and raving about his imminent media career. It wasn’t that Kyle was the kind of person who would deliberately put a downer on a mate’s aspirations, but Matt dreamt up a new job prospect for himself every second week. Kyle, on the other hand, had yet to think of a single realistic vocation that he could get enthusiastic about. He was a man of few talents. The skills Kyle possessed were useless in the regular workforce, and he would never, in all likelihood, have the skills to land a job which he would consider halfway acceptable.

They finished their round of the ninth floor and caught the lift up to the tenth. Matt retrieved his camera from the compartment of his cleaning trolley before the lift door opened.

‘I wonder if she’ll be working late.’ Matt raised his brows in expectant enthusiasm.

‘You’re not seriously considering using that on the heiress to the Nivok Empire?’ Kyle queried, thinking Matt naive. ‘She’ll have you up on harassment charges, just like the poor chump who got too close to her last night.’

‘What poor chump?’ Matt asked with fleeting interest, before waving off the answer. ‘Zoe’s cool, she’ll dig it!’

Kyle opened his mouth to protest as the lift doors parted and Matt sprang into the hall to see if the lights in Nivok’s private offices were on.

‘Excellent,’ Matt exclaimed, heading up the wide, plush corridor.

‘Great!’ retorted Kyle, put out by the fact that Matt had left him to haul the bin and the cleaning trolley.
Harassing the boss’s niece … that would be a fast way out of here.
As Kyle thought twice about the idea, his mood brightened considerably.

Zoe was seated behind her desk in the lavish, dimly-lit reception area out front of James Nivok’s private office.

She had declined the offer of having her own office until such time as she decided whether she held any interest in the family business. If the truth be known, Zoe had pretty much decided already and was only humouring her uncle, who insisted that she be absolutely positive that she wanted to sell before he bought her out.

Although Zoe was still unsure of what she wanted to do with her inheritance, she was certain that the world of big business wouldn’t enter into the equation. She didn’t like the pressure, the office environment, or the thrill of the profit — that was her uncle’s bag. After twenty years of waiting, James deserved to assume full control of the family company that he’d kept thriving and growing since the untimely death of her parents. As her guardian, James had also kept Zoe thriving and growing these past twenty years, and she had no desire to complicate his business affairs. Take the money and run, was more her way of thinking. She had extensive travel plans. And after she’d seen the world, Zoe hoped to have some clue as to what to do with the rest of her life.

A desk lamp shed light onto her fingers as she typed at her computer — the clicking noise of her long nails making contact with keys was the only sound to be heard.

The silence was shattered, however, as Matt came charging through the double glass doors, his camera mounted on his shoulder and rolling.

‘It’s the lovely Miss Zoe, heiress extraordinaire, sacrificing yet another evening to work late for her dear old Uncle James.’ Matt grinned as he viewed Zoe through the lens.

Zoe didn’t look, or act, much like your average executive secretary. Her designer, hippie-style clothes gave her a much zanier appearance than most of the female staff at Nivok Industries, and yet she always looked like a million bucks. Tiny wine-coloured braids fell amid her long, straight hair of deepest brown. Her large hazel eyes and luscious lips were painted in earthy tones, but unlike most females of her age, Zoe didn’t use make-up to excess. Her body was tall and slender, which suited her flowing attire, and she had a scent that was subtle and intoxicating. Zoe’s only apparent flaw, as far as Matt could readily assess, was a major lack of substance in the breast department. Not that this bothered Matt; he liked Zoe because she found him humorous.

‘And how are we this fine evening?’ Matt could tell straightaway that she was amused by his antics, although Zoe did her best to suppress her grin as she looked over the rim of her reading glasses at him.

‘Very well, Matthew, and you?’

‘Very well,’ he confirmed, although his smile really said it all.

‘You have a new toy, I see.’

Matt was about to commence his commentary on the camera’s features, when Kyle backed in through the glass doors dragging the large bin and the cleaning trolley with him. He left the equipment parked beside the doors and went about his rubbish round as if Matt and Zoe weren’t even there. He slammed the metal bins into one another as he emptied them, making one hell of a ruckus.

Zoe’s head shrank into her shoulders. ‘Is your friend all right?’ she asked Matt on the quiet. ‘He seems angry about something.’

‘Yeah, work … it’s against his religion.’ Matt circled round to capture Zoe’s profile. ‘But let’s not talk about him. Let’s talk about, say … five million dollars.’

Zoe, having answered more than enough questions about her inheritance in the past few days, graciously declined. ‘Let’s not.’

Matt lowered the camera, gaping in awe. ‘So, it’s true then?’

Zoe merely shrugged, a non-committal grin on her face.

‘Dear Lord.’ Matt dropped down on one knee beside Zoe and took up her hand. ‘Would you marry me? Please!’

‘You’re just after my money.’ Zoe played along, pulling her hand away as she pretended to take offence.

‘True,’ Matt confessed, ‘but your body would suffice.’

Zoe’s jaw dropped, but she had to smile at his cheek.

‘I hate to interrupt this very touching scene,’ Kyle strode over to steal Matt’s limelight, ‘but I need you to open Uncle James’ office, so I can finish up and get out of here.’

The contempt in Kyle’s tone instantly rubbed Zoe the wrong way. She had encountered his kind before. Every underprivileged male she’d ever met immediately took her for a spoilt little rich girl to be despised — except for Matthew.

Matthew was the perfect embodiment of the ‘boy next door’. His thick blond hair was a decent length, clean and well groomed. His blue eyes twinkled with a lust for life and, although his mouth seemed a bit large for his face, his smile was clown-like and he had the humour to match. What Zoe liked most about Matt, though, was that he was always so polite, considerate and sweet.

Unlike some
, Zoe thought, as she gave Kyle the once-over.

This guy was Matt’s exact opposite in every regard. Matt’s work overalls were clean and pressed, while Kyle’s uniform looked as if it hadn’t seen a washing machine in a hundred years. Matt was tall and slender; Kyle was short and stocky. Matt bounced when he walked, whereas this guy thundered. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark demeanour: Kyle obviously had a major chip on his shoulder and he didn’t mind letting everyone know it.

‘It’s Uncle Jim, actually,’ she informed him in a snobby fashion, ‘and he made it very clear that I was to let no one into his office. You’ve never asked to clean it before —’

‘You’re not here every night,’ Kyle interjected. ‘It’s a once a month thing. It has to get cleaned sometime,’ he appealed on a lighter note.

Matt knew Kyle was fibbing, but he was curious to see inside the bigwig’s office; on the other hand, he didn’t want to get Zoe into strife. As she turned to seek Matt’s opinion, Kyle nodded and urged him on behind Zoe’s back.