Jiminy Christmas, just what had she let herself in for? Angel-Ica Newland turned uncertainly to climb back onto the city bus, but it was already roaring away down the busy expressway in a haze of exuast fumes.

“ Think of this interview as an adventure,” she muttered to herself, looking at the imposing black marvel and glass skyscraper looming before her. “ you know you don’t have what it takes to get this job as a fancy executive assistant.”

Angie looked again at the address. Yes, this was the right building: 666 Logan parkway. 666. Without thinking, she crossed herself, then felt foolish. She had never been religious, but old habits died hard, and she knew her late grandmother would have warned her not to consider a job in a building with that address .

The Oklahoma breeze blew wisps of her dark blonde hair out of her French twist. She probably looked a sight, but nothing much could improver her plain looks anyway, she thought. Angie squinted at the magazine in her hand. A darkly handsome man dressed in a tuxedo ejth a leading Hollywood beauty on his arm stared back from the cover of Bussines International Monthly. The headline splashed across the cover read: JOHN LOGAN VI: THE MYSTERIOUS OUTLAW OF WALL STREET, CONTROLS HIS EMPIRE FROM CATTLE COUNTRY WHILE LIVING THE ELUSIVE LIFE OF AN INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOY.

“ I might as well get this over with; Angie thought aloud , swallowing her misgivings as she put the magazine in her purse and marched through the heavy brass and glass doors, blinking pale blue eyes temporarily blinded by the bright sun outside.

The building was as rich foreboding inside as it was on the outside . It made her feel frumpy and plump , nothing at all like the elegant women she saw crossing the rich marble halls, hurrying to beautifully decorated offices.

“She searched out the directory by the elevators. “Executive offices: 66th floor.”Angie took a deep breath and straightened her navy blue dress, wishing it wasn’t so plain as she stepped into the elevator to be whizzed up at dizzying speed. She’d felt drawn by some unseen force to apply for this job, but now she regretted the impulse . She pulled out the magazine again.

It was his eyes , she decided. John Logan VI’s dark eyes seemed weary and sad, belying his reputation as a cutthroat Bussines exec.

“ jiminy Christmas, he’s used to beauties, He won’t hire me.” Angie stuffed the magazine back into her purse. She’d already read it twice. According to the article, for six generations his family had built its sprawling empire, beginning with railroads and gold mines and , later, cattle and oil. The outlaw of Wall Street, they called him. John Logan VI had a reputation for being hard and ruthless and very, very successful.

“ just a dream boss, she muttered to herself as the elevator stopped “ Angie , you are an idiot! “ She got of on the sixty-sixth floor . The corridors surrounding the elevator were full of hurrying people. Angie paused at a central desk where a nervous young man with thinning red hair tried to deal with three phones that all seemed to be ringing at once. The name plate on his desk read: ALBERT RENQUIST.

“ Excuse me, but could you direct me to Mr . Logan’s office ? The Jiffy Girl Employment Agency sent me.”

The man juggled one phone at his ear while reaching for another , his expression dubious. He ignored her for a long moment while he dealt with the phones and a fax machine that clicked at the end of his desk . She was only too painfully aware of his disapproving scrutiny as she waited. So what if she was ten pounds overweight? Well, okay, fifteen pounds. She was going to start a new diet this very week to see if she could take it off.

Finally , he gave her his attention. “ jiffy Girl sent you?” He sounded incredulous .

She stuck out her chin defiantly. “ I said as much. Is he in?” He blinked, evidently not used to a woman who stood her ground .” No one ever knows wheather Logan’s In or not ; sometimes we go for months without seeing him. Let me check .'' He dailed, and immediately Justine became subservient.

''Renquist here, sir.'' He asked a few overly polite questions, then hung up . '' Mr Logan is expecting you .'' He sneered and gestures towards a gaint pair of walnut doors at the end of the hall. ‘’I’ll buzz you through you don’t look like executive assistant material to me .''

'' Thank you . I’ll tell mr . Logan you said so.'' Angie turned and stride towards the doors.

'' please don’t do that ,'' he called after her. ‘’He’s— he’s a difficult man to work for.””

Angie paused , looking back over her shoulder . The balding twerp seemed reasonable cowed. John Logan must be a real SOB. ''. I won’t tattle on you,''she assured him and stride towards the big walnut doors, seeing her reflection in the gleaming brass and glass of the walls as she walked, more than a little conscious of that extra weight. It had always been a problem, no matter how little she ate. “ if I were only five foot nine,long- legged and gorgeous,” she muttered with a sigh,

''I might have a chance at this job.

But did she really want it? Even more , she regretted her impulse in asking jiffy Girl for this interview. But Angie had been getting desperate. School had barely started and already it didn’t look as if she’d be getting enough substitute teaching jobs to live on. She had to take some drastic steps or she would soon be flat broke.

''Hold that thought ,‘’ she reminded herself , taking a deep breath for courage before she grasped the brass knob and walked through the heavy doors .

She was in a small, richly decorated office with a fine walnut desk and a sweeping view of downtown Oklahoma City. The big doors closing behind her cut off the frantic noises of Bussines and hurrying feet into sudden silence . The office was empty, and Angie realized she was facing another door off to her left that was slightly ajar.from there she could Hear a slight murmur of conversation. Angie bit her lip wondering if she was suooosednto wait here or if she would be given instruction via the telecom.she pulled at her skirt, straightening it,and wondered if she should have dressed in something other than a no-nonsense navy blue dress. At least the dark blue was thinning ,helping to hide her plumpness.

She waited , fidgeting and wishing this interview was over. Talk about a fools errands...

After a long moment, she walked to the door , and knocked gently .''Mr Logan?''

No answer. Inside, she could still hear the slight murmur of conversation. Was he interviewing someone else ,or was he trying to intimidate her by letting her cool her heels in the outer office? Why had she felt almost driven to apply for this job?

Well, she had that interview with the dentist in Moore this afternoon; she’d have a chance there.

Angie took a deep breath and walked in. So his was the office of one of the richest men in the world. In awe, she looked around at the fine antique furnishings , the expensive western paintings in the walls. Somehow, she had a feeling those Remington bronzes on the tables were originals. Priceless Navaho and Persian rugs muffled her footsteps.

A high-backed leather chair was turned away from her and toward the wall of gleaming windows behind the big walnut desk. Past the windows, she could see the skyline of downtown Oklahoma City against a pale blue sky .

A murmur if conversation drifted to her, and Angie realized there was a man in that high- backed leather chair, his black cowboy boots propped up on a low filling cabinet as he talked on the phone.Expensive, custom-made cowboy boots, she realized , and small feet for a man. Small feet on a man means a big ...

Angie turned crimson as she remembered her southern grandmother’s saying.

The man had a magazine in his hand. She could see him arm, clad in a dark gray silk suit. “ I don’t give a damn if the ad agency does think this will sell fine jewelry,” the voice snarled in a deep, southwestern drawl. “ I hate the damned ad; pull it!” He slammed the magazine, too, dint I? Fire the editor! I hate ads featuring women that look like they are starving ! I don’t care if it is a fashionable look! I own your ad agency, don’t I? After you do all that , I’ll expect your resigns in the mail, pronto!”

The hand slammed the phone down so hard, it rattled, and she heard him sigh , as if annoyed, his chair creaked as he turned towards the gaint windows and the view of Oklahoma City behind his desk.

Intrigued, Angie tiptoed closer and peered at the open magazine. It was a typical fashion layout, she thought; a gaunt beauty wearing expensive gold and Daimond and the latest couturier gown . The silver- blond model looked flat- chested and starving.

Without thinking , Angie said , “ well, I don’t blame you! It’s nice to see someone making a political statement against fashion models who look like they’re recovering from bulimia.”the big leather chair whiled around.” Where in the hell did you come from?” It was the man from the magazine cover, every bit as intimidating and darkly handsome in person. No ,he really wasn’t handsome; he was wide virile and dangerous looking, and somewhere in his mid-thirties . A lot of American Indian blood, Angie nooted . Instead of a regular tie,he wore a fine turquoise and silver bola with his western suit.

As a former Airforce brat, Angie wasn’t easily intimidated but this glowing big male made her take a step backward .

“ I — the jiffy Girl Agency sent me, and I just want to say you have a lot more of principle than Bussines International Monthly says you do it if you‘ll try ti change a fashion trend that’s landing thousands of young women in hospitals trying to intimate it .”

He did it say anything, just continued to glare at her as if he couldn’t believe her effrontery. His eyes were black as a jet and just as hard. A tiny mole twitched on the left side of his sensual mouth .

“ what I mean is ,” Angie rushed on, “ they said you weee a real old-fashion robber baron ,but you must have some principles, because I heard you say to jerk the ad, and then that you were willing to close the company, and —“

“ I have few principles,” he growled, “ and you have more guts than any woman I ever met.” He leaned back in the big leather chair and folded his hand across his wide chest, staring at she .

Angie was startled by his admission , she gulped. No wonder they call you an outlaw—“

“ Dint call me that!” He roared at he. “ I just sued and ruined that rag for calkidm me that! I’m not an outlaw; I’m respectable and successful! My company doesn’t do anything most of the international companies don’t do, but I’m fair game for the tabloids because I’m always brutally frank, Miss—Miss—?”

He wasn’t going to intimidate her, she vowed to herself , but her knees seemed to be shaking. “ Newland. I was merely suggesting that those magazine ads annoy me, too, and plump women vastly outnumbered skinny ones, so that’s more money that’s spent on cloths and jewelry—@

“ Hush.” He made an annoyed gesture .

“ what?”

“ I said hush; you chatter more than a squirrel.”

Angie hesitated, trying to read his dark, rugged face as he leaned his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers, staring at her with that intimidating, steely gaze. No, he definitely wasn’t handsome, but he had an arresting, virile quality , like all those antiheroes in the old movies she loved so well.

“ you could at least ask me to sit down .”

“ I said hush .” He gestured toward a chair and reached out to pick up what was evidently her application. “ Now, Miss…? ”

“ Newland ; Angelica Newland,” she said , deciding from his Stoney expression that she was going to be out of here in record time.

Logan’s cold, dark eyes scanned her resume with no hint of the sad weariness that had drawn her on the magazine cover. He was probably a good poker player, she thought.

“ well, Miss Newland—“

“ Mrs,” she corrected, “ but I’m divorced—“

“ Now why does that not surprise me,?” He drummed his fingers on his desk.

The expression on his dark features told her that this was no time to go on about Brett’s drug and job problems, or how she tried and tried to straighten him out while he spent all her salary, Actually, she was now a widow. Brett had OD’d more than a year ago, but she seldom told people that. She felt guilty for being alive and not saving him form himself .

“ I suppose I was out of line commenting on the ad,” she began, “ but I can see why you objected to it—“

“ can you, now? I’m not politically correct,” John Logan snapped. “ I objected to the scrawny girl in the ad because she was too skinny to appeal to me or any another man, for that Matter, and men are the ones who buy expensive jewelry and trinkets for women.”

“ oh .” Angie sighed without meaning to; of course it was true. She wondered who JOHN LOGAN VI bought fine jewelry and furs for.

He glanced up at her loud sigh. “Angelica? Pretty fancy name.”