" oh, you're history enthusiast?" Angie smiled at him over her coffee cup.
Logan actually smiled, as if he'd heard a joke. " you might say that."
Now there was only silence as he studied her. She wasn't quite certain if she was supposed to thank him for the interview and leave or ask him if there were any more questions he wanted answered. He stared at her for long moment. " Tell me, Mrs. Newland , just why I should I hire you?"
Angie wiped her mouth . " I haven't the faintest idea, except that I need the job and you're evidently difficult to work for. I realize I may not be front desk material—"
"That is a matter of opinion." Logan shrugged his broad shoulders. " At least you're not a bag of bones in a tight miniskirt. You also seem to have some brains, which is more than I can say for the others I've been sent."
Surely after the war they'd clashed, he wasn't about to offer her a job? She looked at him over her coffeecup.
he glared at her across the desk ." I am about to do something I know I'll regret later, but I'm damned tired of interviewing people."
" most executive in your position would let some underling do the interviewing," Angie said.
" Damn it! I know that. How do you think I ended up with those two gorgeous nitwits who didn't last? Renquist hired them."
Angie put down her cup. " you— you're offering me the job?"
" if you want it; although, like I said, I know I'll regret it."
He learned back in his chair and out his cowboy boots up on the desk again.
Small feet,big…
" why are you blushing ?" He demanded.
She had a sudden vision of this big , virile man naked and felt herself burn even more . " I'm not sure I can tell you. "
"Can't or won't"
" I'm not sure; maybe both."
" people don't usually buck me this way, Mrs. Newland ."
She looked at him squarely. " I need a job, Mr. Logan, but I won't be bullied ; I put up with enough of that from my husband."
"Mrs. Newland ," his face was grim, " I have checked into your finances; you can't possibly turn down this job; not at the salary I'm offering."
Damn him, his investigators had done a thorough job after all. " Alright; but I'm afraid this is going to be a relationship from hell."
Now he grinned, but there was no mirth in his hard, dark eyes. " if you only knew. Can you start today?"
" Yes." She was immediately apprehensive.some unknown force had compelled her to interview this job, but she hadn't really expected to get it. Jiminy Christmas, what was she letting herself for ?
It was Friday and it was still hard for Angie to believe she'd this dream job in this elegant skyscraper. Or was it going to be a nightmare? She brushed that nagging thought aside as she went up in the elevator. Renquist scowled at her from his bank of ringing phones. But Angie only smiled and nodded . She went into her office and put her brown lunch bag into the bottom drawer of her desk. Today, she was starting her new diet. She'd brought a salad piece of broiled chicken breast. She looked down at her plain brown suit and sighed. When she lost some weight and got her first paycheck she was going to reward herself being some new clothes.
Was John Logan VI even in the office? His door was closed, but her fax machine had spit out a hundred messages overnight and the phones were all ringing . She turned on her computer and dug into the workload, hardly looking up. Her stomach rumbled, but she tried not to think about food. She must take off those extra pounds.
She buzzed Logan on the intercom and got no response maybe it wasn't working.
She knocked on his office door. "Mr. Logan?" No answer.
Hesitantly, she stuck her head inside his office.He sat behind his desk, staring wistfully out at the landscape of rolling prairies in the distance. " Mr Logan, you have three invitations to charity balls in this morning's mail, a plea for funds to redo some historic building, and a reminder of a dinner at the country club."
He scowled. " send them all a generous check and decline for me ."
" oh, and Mrs Ruthford van Hinesworth called about the debutante dance —"
" The snotty old bat is hoping to interest me in her simpering sorority daughter. Tell her I'll be out of the country and I'm so sorry."
" Yes, sir." So he wasn't married. She looked at the custom made cowboy boots propped up on his desk and the finely tailored eastern suit and said without thinking, " I don't know many cowboys like you."
" That more than true you know, lady." He stood up and paced around his office. He was big, wide shouldered man, she thought. " I'm getting restless again. I may take off for a few months, or even a couple of years; go to Europe or my place Scotland, or just go up to my ranch for awhile, where I can ride horses and get away from all this."
A ranch. Angie had always yearned to win a ranch and live the simple country life. " How bug is your spread ?"
" I don't remember "—he shrugged—" couple of thousand acres maybe, up in the Osage country near Tulsa."
" sounds wonderful!" Angie sighed.
" you ride,Mrs. Newland?" He eyes her curiously.
" A little. Being an officer's daughter used to have a few privileges. Of course, I can't afford it anymore."
In her office, the phone was ringing again . John Logan scowled at her. " I do hope you're going to answer that eventually?"
" oh , yes, sir!" She scurried away, upset with herself that she'd been daydreaming about what it would be like to ride across a thousand- acre ranch with John Logan by her side. Was she out of her mind? This rich and forbidding man would eventually combine his fortune with some wealthy society beauty. Angie didn't qualify in any count.
She busied herself dealing with all the mail pulled up on her desk. Sorting through the letters that seemed to need Logan's personal attention and those that needed to be filled. It was amazing how many phone calls there were.
She punched the intercom. " Mr Logan, Zurich on the line one and a teleconference wanting to schedule from London."
" Damn, most of this stuff usually goes to the board of directors," he shouted back. " Re- route it so I don't have to talk to those twits."
" I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize that. Oh there's an email on the computer; are you supposed to have lunch with some international bankers meeting in Tulsa today ?"
He swore. Damn , I forgot about that . Those prissy types will want French food or snails or something. And I feel like Mexican food . Mrs . Newland, first call my ' copter to pick me up, then call El sombrero in Tulsa and reserve their private dining room . The twits can eat tamales with me or starve ."