Those Angstrom Men!. (6 page)

“No, the kiss wasn’t a lie....”

“Please forgive me, baby. I’ll...I’ll crawl over hot coals...”

Maggie started to laugh.  “Broken beer bottles as well?”

“Broken beer bottles as well, and I’ll sleep on a bed of nails!”

“That you will not do, not if I’m sleeping with you!”

Ian began to laugh. Maggie laughed as well and kissed Ian. 

Brian Angstrom roared with laughter.

Maggie turned
crimson. She’d forgotten Ian’s father was in the room, listening to a very personal conversation…

“Perhaps you could
just force Ian to help me pot three thousand dahlia seedlings, Maggie. He hates to do that...”

Suddenly all three of them were laughing.

“Eh, you two have some talking to do. See you at dinner on Sunday, Maggie. I know my wife Mavis is going to love you...” Brian Angstrom walked toward the door.

Neither Maggie nor Ian noticed he didn’t leave, that he stood by the
door, hand on the doorknob, fascinated.

Maggie sat back down behind her desk. Ian sat in the leather chair the other side and stared earnestly at her.

“Do you forgive me, Maggie mine?”

“I might, if you feed me enough chocolate covered strawberries...”

“I can do that, darling.”

“I suppose I can understand what happened. That Most Eligible Bachelor list thing
is always very popular with magazines...”

“Listen, you have no idea. I had women I’ve never heard of sending me lilac scented letters, and more...”

“More?”

“More...some of them sent lace underwear, thongs, bras, pictures of
themselves au natural...”

“Oh...that’s a bit much...”

“Whenever I went out, somebody would approach me, offering me all sorts of...eh...sexual delights....Women I’d never met would proposition me...I started to very publicly take out the models and actresses hoping to stop all that. Those girls were out for the publicity I could bring them. At least they were honest about their motives.”

“I think I did see a red head throw herself at you at the airport in Greece,” Maggie remembered.

“I was lucky there was only one that day. I started telling anyone who approached me my name was Armstrong and that I was married with three children. I got a picture of my cousin’s three boys and carry it in my wallet, and whip it out if a woman gets too persistent.”

Maggie roared with laughter.

“And I tell them I wish I had that Angstrom fellow’s money because it’s hard raising three kids on my salary.”

Maggie stopped laughing. “I can see that all the attention could be very disruptive to your life, and put a spoke in any real relationship...”

“That’s an understatement, baby.”

She smiled, “And the girls at Angstrom and Associates and here at the magazine do speculate about you a lot, and say that you could put your shoes under their beds any time you like...”

“The only bed my shoes go under is the bed you’re sleeping in, Maggie mine.”

“I suppose I could forgive you, now that you’ve explained it so clearly, and your father asked so nicely.”

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. You’re lucky I’m a very forgiving woman,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with love.

“You’re also the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, Maggie mine, if you’ll have me.”

“You’d better say yes, young lady, or I will have to give you the sack!” laughed her future father-in-law from the doorway.

“I know, you want me to leave,” he smiled as he shut the door behind him.

Maggie and Ian resumed kissing.

Ian left her office a few minutes later. Five minutes after that, she slipped out. He was waiting outside in a taxi. They went straight to his penthouse, and didn’t emerge until morning.

Friday lunch break Ian took Maggie shopping.

Friday evening they drank Cristal and he fed her a dozen chocolate covered strawberries, one by one.

He loved the way she sucked the chocolate off his fingers.

She loved the way she sucked the chocolate off his fingers.

Saturday they didn’t bother to get out of bed, except to wander into his kitchen and make some food. Finger
food, that they could feed each other back in bed.

Sunday, they went to Ian’s parents for dinner. Maggie wore the black wool dress that Ian loved so much.

Brian Angstrom had been quite correct.

Mavis loved her.

David immediately told her that if she got tired of Ian, he’d love to take his older brother’s place.  Everybody laughed.

By the time they got to the cheese and
biscuits, Mavis was into full wedding mode.

She’d always wanted to plan a wedding, but with two boys
and no daughter, had never imagined she’d have the pleasure. With Maggie’s own mother living in Australia, Mavis could have her dream come true…

Mavis thought they should get married in the garden, when all the dahlias were in full bloom. She offered to look after all the details. Maggie threw up her hands and nodded.

Brian Angstrom got Maggie’s mother’s address, so he could send tickets from Australia to England for a month’s holiday around the wedding.

Mavis was on the telephone to Maggie’s mother before Ian’s car was half way down the drive.

When they got back to London, they moved the rest of Maggie’s clothes and bits and pieces to Ian’s.

Jill was delighted when asked to be the maid of honour.    

Monday, Maggie met the girls from Angstrom and Associates for lunch.

“Have you seen the Daily Tattle this morning?” asked
Amanda.

“No, why?” said Maggie, “I don’t usually read that tabloid.”

“Ian Angstrom must be getting engaged. The Daily Tattle reporter saw him at Cartier Friday, looking at diamonds. They got a picture, but his companion’s face was totally masked by his hand.”

Maggie smiled. “It’s nice he wanted to preserve her anonymity, isn’t it.”

“I wonder who she is?” said Linda. “Probably some wealthy heiress.”

“I thought you said he was going out with a career girl?” Make up your mind,” said Amanda.

“Yes, Linda,” said Elizabeth. “It’s probably the career woman and he didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention to her.”

“I’m sure she’s quite beautiful,” said Amanda. “She’d have to be, to compete with all the models he used to date.”

“Perhaps she’s quite ordinary,” ventured Maggie.

“Oh, no,” said Linda, shocked. “Mr. Angstrom doesn’t do ordinary.”

“Perhaps he wants to do ordinary, and the press won’t let him?”

“Why should he settle for ordinary when he can have any woman he wants?” Amanda retorted.

“How’s life at the magazine?” asked Gloria, steering the conversation away from her boss, as a good P.A. should.

“Interesting.
I have a column now as well as the editing, and I met Mr. Brian Angstrom on Thursday. He’s very sweet, isn’t he, when you get to know him?”

“He scares me,” admitted Elizabeth.

“Oh, he’s really a pussycat,” smiled Maggie. “Totally wrapped up in his family and his dahlias.”

“I thought he grows roses,” said Amanda.

“No, dahlias. He won second prize at the Chelsea Flower Show for his dahlias last year, so he’s going all out for the Gold Cup this year. He’s got three thousand seedlings started in his greenhouse. He and Ian are going to pot them next weekend.”

“Really?
You must have had quite a chat with him,” said Linda enviously.

Maggie smiled. “I did. We were having a very good visit and then Ian came in.”

“So now you know what Ian Angstrom looks like, Maggie.”

“
Yes, and I was quite surprised. I’d met him some time ago, you see, and I didn’t know his last name was Angstrom. He’d actually told me it was Armstrong, to protect his privacy. That publicity made him cautious.”

“Socially?
You know him socially?”

“Mmmm...”

“But when we asked you to contact your media sources you wouldn’t,” complained Amanda.

“Well, first off, I didn’t know the Ian I know was the Ian who is our owner, and secondly, everybody’s entitled to privacy, aren’t they? How would you like your lo
ve life plastered all over the newsstands? It can’t be very nice, can it? Everybody speculating about the people you date?”

“I don’t suppose it would be very nice,” said Elizabeth.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Amanda. “It might be quite exciting.”

“Your hair and makeup would always have to be perfect, Amanda. You could never just pull on a jacket over your ratty jeans and pullover and run out to pick up a pint of milk.”

“That could be a nuisance,” admitted Amanda.

“And what about meeting friends?” said Linda thoughtfully. “If you were being followed by the paparazzi all the time, you couldn’t meet your friends like this for lunch, could you?”

Maggie, alert after the ambush by those paparazzi Friday outside Cartier, spied the photographers coming in the door before they spied her.

“I think I’m going to have a chocolate mousse,” she said and buried her head in the menu.

She peeked out. The two tabloid reporters had scanned the room, not seen her and walked back out the door. She lowered the menu.

“Do you have time for that?” asked Amanda. “I think we have to get back to work.”

“Yes, you’re right. I might make my boyfriend one tonight instead...he loves to feed me chocolate.”

“Still going out with the same chap, Maggie?” asked Elizabeth.
“The one who takes you to the Savoy Grill?”

“Yes, I am,” she smiled. “I had dinner with his family last night. His parents are very nice, and he has a hunky single brother as well.”

“Oh, what does his brother do?” Amanda was definitely interested.

“He’s an engineer.”

“How old?”

“Twenty eight
or twenty nine.”

“If you ever want to double date, I’d be available,” Amanda said.

“Just because he has a good job?”

“Good job and a wealthy family, a girl’s got to think of the future, you know.”

Maggie grabbed the check.  “My treat, girls. I got a raise.”

They parted ways outside the bistro. It was raining, just a slight drizzle.

Maggie saw the reporters across the street before they saw her. She put her umbrella up and angled it so that it blocked their view and hurried to the magazine offices.

At tea that afternoon, Helen mentioned the same picture that had caught Amanda’s eye.

“I wonder who the lucky woman is?”

“Probably someone quite ordinary,” said Maggie.

She was very glad she’d forgiven Ian. If this barrage of questions was how he’d lived for the two years, the poor man….   

Perhaps they could take a long break to Devon...it was quiet in Devon.

It was the first place they’d made love, Devon.

“Oh, no,” said Susan. “She’d have to be very special. I mean
, look at all the beautiful girls he dates.”

Maggie glanced up.

Oh, no, there was a photographer at the door to the canteen. Where could she hide? She dropped her spoon and bent down.

She could see the man’s legs under the table. He walked back out the door. She sat up again.

This was getting ridiculous!

She called Ian from her mobile when she was back in her office.

“Hello, Maggie mine, how are you, baby?”

“Being followed, Ian. There were two photographers at the bistro at lunchtime, and one just popped into the staff canteen while I was having tea. I managed to hide both times, but...”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I can and will put security in the office lobby, so that will stop a repeat of the canteen business, but...the engagement announcement will be in the paper Friday. We’ll have a flurry, and then they’ll leave us alone.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t announce the engagement, Ian? Maybe we should just wait until we’re married and then announce that. You won’t be an eligible bachelor then, and perhaps they’ll leave us alone.”

“Good thinking, I’ll tell Mom and Dad.”

“I might make chocolate mousse tonight, Ian.”

“I love chocolate mousse, Maggie mine... I may paint you with that chocolate mousse and lick it off you, like I did last week with the strawberry mousse you made then.”

“I was rather hoping you’d want to do that, Ian.”

The next morning Amanda noticed Ian Angstrom looked very happy and satisfied with himself and the world in general.

“Good morning, Mr. Angstrom.”

“Good morning, Amanda. You’re looking very pretty this morning.”