Episode 2

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.”

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