Those Angstrom Men!. (3 page)

“Probably going to Paris or something with that model I saw in the tabloids,” said Elizabeth. “He’s been going out with her for a month or two, hasn’t he?”

“That one‘s long gone,” said Gloria. “I think that actress, Anjelica Jones was his last piece of arm candy. He took her out a couple of times before he went on holiday, but he told me yesterday not to put her through if she called, so she’s had the boot as well.”

“So he’s footloose and fancy-free again, is he?” said Amanda. “Too bad he never notices me. He could park his shoes under my bed any night.”

Linda, Elizabeth and Gloria all laughed at Amanda. “No, Amanda, he’ll never notice you. He has that rule, remember? He never dates anyone who works for him,” Gloria reminded her.

The week both sped by and dragged
on.

Maggie was very busy. John Taylor was pleased with the job she’d done for him and produced three other reports for her to edit and polish. Miles Green provided her with a proposal for a prospective client in Australia. Maggie’s eyes popped when she saw how much Angstrom and Associates charged for their services. Obviously the consulting business as run by Mr. Angstrom was far more lucrative that the woman’s magazine she’d worked for. Not much danger of this ship sinking!

Maggie worked late every night; she didn’t want to sit at home, daydreaming of Ian. Because that’s what she was doing every evening, sitting, daydreaming of Ian and his kisses.

Wednesday evening, Dubai time, Ian was still worrying about Maggie finding out his true identity.

He wished he hadn’t lied to her when they met. But it was so nice, going out with her as if he was just another bloke.

She had no expectations.

Why, she’d been worried he was overspending, taking her to the Savoy Grill so soon after buying her dinner on Friday evening! What a girl!

He hoped they’d be sharing his bed come Friday, but it was her decision, and he was damned if he was going to scare her away by being too aggressive, no matter how he ached for her.

The game would be up next Monday, anyway, unless he could think of a way around it.

He put his mind to it, tackling it as if it were a problem he was solving for a client.

Half an hour later, he had a plan.

Ian emailed John Taylor to forward him the report he knew Maggie had edited. It was on his laptop within minutes.

He read it, not for the content but for the presentation. He smiled. “Maggie mine, you’re good, really good. I think I know just what to do with you...”

Friday, Linda appeared at her desk at five. “Come on, Maggie, we’re going to the pub.”

“I’d love to come, but that new man I told you about is picking me up at six, we’re going to Devon.”

“Lucky you!
This is the same one you had that super dinner with Monday?”

“Yes, he’s been away all week. I’ve quite missed him.”

Maggie just had time to get home and change into her best jeans and a caramel silk shirt. She was going to look as nice as she could for Ian.  The doorbell rang and she raced downstairs, bag in hand, to his waiting arms and lips....

“Oh, baby, I missed you,” he said between kisses. “Come on, let’s go, or I’ll be taking you upstairs to your cousin’s flat.”

The drive to Devon was filled with laughter as Maggie described the people in her office. Ian grinned at her. “You have such a talent for humour, Maggie mine. It’s as if I’m seeing these people with new eyes!”

Maggie thought that was an odd remark, but shrugged and the conversation passed onto other subjects.

“Here we are, Maggie mine,” said Ian as he pulled his vintage Jaguar XKE up in front of a large stone home built on top of the cliff.

“I thought this was a weekend cottage, Ian, not a mansion…”

“You exaggerate, Maggie. I like to be comfortable…

He opened the door, scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the threshold.

“I’ve always want to do that,” he laughed. “Seen it in so many films. It looked like a very romantic thing to do...” His eyes darkened as he spoke.

“It is a very romantic thing to do,” breathed Maggie.
“Very romantic. Are you going to put me down now?”

“No, I’m going to carry you up these stairs and show you
the view from the deck off my bedroom. It’s very pretty at night, the lights of the town twinkling so far below us, the moon shimmering on the sea...”

“That sounds very pretty.”

“But not as pretty as you are, Maggie mine.”

When he’d reached the balcony he set her onto her feet and they stood, looking at the lights and the moon shimmering on the sea. He held her close, and tilted her face up so that he could kiss her.

“I want to make love to you, Maggie, to make you truly mine, but I can wait if you want to.”

“Yes, please, make love to me,” she said softly as she closed her eyes and kissed him again.

They never got to the town, or the pebble beach. They never got to his sailboat. They barely left his bedroom, except to eat and share the shower. They left for London as late as possible Sunday evening.

“Your home was larger and nicer than I’d expected, Ian,” she said as they drove toward London.

“I’m not poor, Maggie. Did you like the house?”

“Oh, yes, I liked it. It was a wonderful weekend, Ian.”

“You made it wonderful, Maggie mine. Will you come with me again? The next time I can steal a weekend away from the business, that is?”

“Only if you promise not to eat biscuits in the bed next time!”

“They did make rather a mess, didn’t they? But I did shake out the sheets and remake the bed, baby.

“Yes, you did, after I beat you in that pillow fight!”

“I promise, Maggie mine. No more eating biscuits in the bed.”

Monday morning, Rosemund called Maggie into her office and closed the door. 

“Maggie, Mr. Angstrom and his family own a number of companies. He, his brother and his father own a business publication,
Britain’s Best
and when Mr. Angstrom read one of the reports you’ve edited, I imagine over the weekend, the man seems to work 24/7, he decided you’re wasted here. You start at the magazine today.”

Maggie was stunned.
“Pardon?”

“Yes, his instructions. They have an intermediate editorial position available. You’re due there immediately, so pack up your desk and we’ll get you over to your new office. I believe the move includes rather a nice raise...You would like the promotion, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, of course I would. One of my ambitions is to be a magazine editor. It’s just such a shock.”

“Yes, well that’s Mr. Angstrom all over. Once he sees something he likes, he gets straight after it.

“In this case, he likes your writing talent and is putting it to the best possible use. He said to me that you must be an outstanding journalist and you will compliment the staff at the magazine splendidly.

“
You are interested in Business, aren’t you? I know it was a woman’s magazine you worked for prior to here.”

“I am interested in Business, of course
, Rosemund. I wanted to work for a business publication when I finished University, but it was the women’s magazine that offered me a job,” said Maggie hastily, vowing to herself to read the last twelve issues of
Britain‘s Best
.

An hour later, Maggie was ensconced in her new office a ten minute walk away from Angstrom and Associates. It was a much nicer office than the last one, larger with decent art on the walls, and a view of the river from her window.

The Editor-in-Chief, Gordon Davis, was a debonair man in his early thirties who eyed her appreciatively and promptly asked if she was single.

“Er, I have a boyfriend,” she said.

“Serious?”

“Perhaps.”

“Too bad, I was going to ask you out to dinner.”

“Sorry...”

“Ah well, you can’t hurt asking, can you? Do let me know if you decide to dump him. I’d love to get to know you personally.  Better get to business then...” and Gordon plunged into the details of the magazine and what she would be doing there. He gave her several past issues of the magazine.

“Here, spend the rest of the morning glancing through these, Maggie. They’ll give you an idea of what I want you to accomplish with your editing.”

“You anticipated my request, Gordon. Thanks.”

She spent the rest of the morning reading.

“Shouldn’t be too difficult to do this job,” she thought to herself. “Everything is in plain English, no fancy terminology…no airs and graces…just promoting what’s best about Britain.”

Maggie’s mobile rang just after twelve.

“Hello, Ian.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Oh, your calls have a special ring.”

“A sexy one, I hope.”

“A very sexy one.
I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt
,” she giggled.

“Maggie mine, you’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

“No, that’s the tune I chose, because I prefer you naked,” she breathed.

“The same way I prefer you, baby. I’m not nearly as clever as you are. I chose Rod Steward singing
Maggie Mae
as your ring tone.”

“Guess what? I was transferred this morning!”

“Where are you now?”

“I was switched over to
Britain’s Best
magazine. It’s a business publication that features rising young companies and their owners. I think Mr. Angstrom’s family owns it. I’m an editor here, and the salary is almost double the amount I was getting before!”

“Congratulations, Maggie mine. I’ll take you to dinner at the Savoy Grill to celebrate.”

“That is becoming our tradition, isn’t it, Ian?”

“What is?”

“You taking me to the Savoy Grill to celebrate a new job.”

“Yes, it is, but if you like this job, we’ll have to find other excuses to go to that restaurant.”

“I’m sure we can do that.”

“I’m sure we can do that as well, Maggie mine. Let’s do the Kitchen Table experience, if I can get us a reservation for it.”

During dinner, Maggie was struck by a thought. “Ian, I don’t know what you do for a living?”

“Oh? I thought I told you?” he lied.

“I’m sorry. I must have been so mesmerized by your kisses that I’ve forgotten.”

“I like the sound of that, Maggie mine, that my kisses mesmerize you. Well, eh, I’m a bit of a computer nerd. I do consulting work for several companies.”

“Oh, like a systems analyst.”

“Similar...”

Well, if you have a vivid imagina
tion, you could call it similar, Ian thought with his fingers crossed.

“Good thing I got this new job then, isn’t it?”

“Why would that be, Maggie mine?”

“If I was still working for Angstrom and Associates, there could be a potential conflict of interest, if you and Mr. Angstrom were after the same clients. I think they have one division that deals with computer systems, although it‘s a pretty small part of that company.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Smart girl, Maggie. No conflict now, though is there?”

“Not at all, darling.” It was the first time she’d called him darling. He beamed at her.  

“What would you like for dessert?”

“You.”

“That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing. We must be mind readers.”

Dinner was followed by a steamy night at Ian’s luxurious flat along the Embankment. Maggie just had time after he dropped
her home to change and get to work for the nine o’clock Editorial Team Meeting.

Over the next three months, she saw Ian at least four times a week when he wasn’t out of London on assignments.

Maggie hadn’t bothered to find her own flat. Her cousin Jillian was happy to have her share the rent, and when Ian was in London, she was with him.

She met Amanda, Elizabeth and Linda once a week for lunch or drinks after work. Occasionally Gloria joined them for lunch, if Mr. Angstrom was out of town.

“Mr. Angstrom has a new girlfriend,” Amanda said one Thursday evening.

“Another model?” smiled Maggie, not really interested.

“No, apparently this one’s a career woman. Probably close to his age, gorgeous and as driven as he is.”

“How do you know?”

“Gossip columns, of course. Isn’t that our usual source of information about Ian Angstrom?”

“Yes, I have to admit it is. You never tell us anything, Gloria, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. Good P.A.’s don’t gossip.”

“
Apparently a reporter from the
DailyDirt.com
was at the same business luncheon Mr. Angstrom was, and mentioned he hadn’t seen him about town. Mr. Angstrom laughed and said he’d given up models for a career woman.”

“Oh,” was all Maggie said. She really wasn’t that interested. She’d never even met the man.