Black Gold

by Angelika Robinson

  “When it comes to money, Magnus is a hundred percent hands-on,” I reveal to her. “Have you been reading the email threads? He’s practically written whole novels. And with this project, he’s not like his usual self — no filtering from secretaries, he’s handling every aspect of the job himself. I wonder how he gets his energy.”

  A few minutes later, I spy Magnus winking at me.

  That’s how he gets his energy.

  My body is still pleasantly sore from all our vigorous love-making last night. It wasn’t until just around midnight that Magnus had the driver drop me off.

  “You… didn’t hear anything, did you?” I randomly ask the driver as I exit the car.

  “No, ma’am,” he says, although a shade of a smile lingers. “Plus, it’s not my job to eavesdrop on your conversations.”

  Uh huh. Conversations would have been the last thing in the world we would have been having then…

  Magnus at work, of course, is a different man. He’s wearing his tie extra tight, and I feel like that’s part of his schtick — his fancy three-piece suits are his suits of armor. This is a man going to battle.

  Battle being the intricate world of international energy consortium financing, an area I know next to nothing about beyond the emails I skim at work, of course.

  But as I watch him oversee meetings, I get a quick glimpse of his ruthless side. It’s so interesting to see this man, this wheeler-dealer, this business-centered mastermind. He has a taste for details that you would never have expected from his minimalist office or penthouse.

  Everything that’s about to be signed into our deal has to pass through his inspection first. And then he puts on these slim, transparent reading glasses… and God, he’s so sexy.

  Later that evening, it’s just me and him at the office… thanks to the Australia deal.

  Part of me enjoys staying at work this late, because it lets me spend some time with Magnus.

  He pops out. “Do you think we can get some takeout Chinese?”

  “We? Because I’ve had too much of that lately,” I laugh. “But yes, we can get some takeout Chinese. The dispatch department’s all off work, but the restaurant around the corner should be able to deliver.”

  “Okay, no Chinese. Pizza?”

  “As long as I get to pick the toppings,” I say, smiling, feeling a warmth come over me. All it takes is for us to be alone and I get to instantly feel the intimacy that has grown between the both of us.

  “What would you have us have?” Magnus asks, in that impeccably formal wording of his.

  “One large margarita, one large pepperoni. Nothing weird. Just the basics, you know? Normal.”

  Magnus grins. “I know how much you love normal. And, ahem, did you really think I was going to order something crazy like gold-flecked pizza flown first class from Naples, with a side order of beluga caviar?”

  I blink. “Yes, I did think that.”

  He frowns. “Really?”

  “Of course not, you’re not that ridiculous,” I immediately laugh. “Magnus, you should have seen your face! Also, I don’t think I’ve had caviar, nor do I think I want any.”

  “It’s delicious, Shaleigh,” he offers. “Might be able to find some in one of the pantries here in the office.”

  “Pantry,” I laugh, pointing out his pronunciation. “You know, sometimes that whole I Grew Up In A Fancy London School thing really pops out of you. Not just the words you use, Magnus, but the way you use them.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I say pantry?!” Magnus says, bewildered. “I’m starting to have this sneaking suspicion that there’s no such thing as normal after all — that you’re just secretly making things up on the go.”

  “Bless you,” I smile, walking up to him and offering him a peck of a kiss. “You think normal is an invention of us lower-class folk.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant at all,” Magnus says, rolling his eyes at me.

  We end up getting to have a quiet, cute night of pizza at the office. Margarita and pepperoni. Nothing weird.

  Normal.

  “Tell me all about Australia,” I ask him, during a lull in the conversation. “We girls have started noticing just how intense you are when you’re on about this project.”

  “Well, it means a lot to me,” Magnus responds. “I’ve been meaning to get into the Oceania trade for a long time, and this is the best opening we’ve ever had.”

  “It can’t really be that… obvious,” I shake my head. “No underlying personal motivations?”

  The billionaire contemplates my question. “Is the pursuit of further profit, to secure and improve the cashflow we already have, not a good enough reason?” he muses, and I can tell from his tone that he’s more questioning himself than he is questioning me. “I’ve always dreamt about pushing our business into new horizons. Third generation business dynasties don’t often get a chance to expand as aggressively. In China, they say the first generation makes the money, the second generation holds on to it, and the third generation spends it all. I don’t want to be another statistic of that centuries-old adage.”

  Adage. What a man. Even when he’s just talking about something as unpoetic as money, I find myself wanting to indulge my ears to his voice, to the authority of his call.

  “You give a man a goal to work towards, Shaleigh,” Magnus whispers, and leans over with a kiss.

  We both kiss tomato sauce to each other as we lock lips. My heart melts as I see yet another rare glimpse of his intensely romantic side.

  As we leave the kiss, I resolve to do everything I can to help Magnus, to ease all of his burdens. To be the woman he never knew he needed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A week later, what seemed like an impossible dream before I took this job had managed to come to pass, without any fanfare.

  I’m traveling. I’m in Australia! Just outside Sydney, Magnus and his traveling team of lawyers, negotiators, executives, analysts and secretaries — literally a whole business jet’s worth — are camped out as we have a lightning round of negotiations with the corporation Boyd Industries wants to take over.

  “You’ve done such a good job on this trip so far,” Magnus tells me before winking, “I’d like you to take some time off. By ‘some’, I mean a day — can’t really afford any more than that, sorry. And we should go to the beach. Together. Let’s leave all this behind and make some time for each other.”

  My eyes are wide open, much like they’ve been the whole time I’ve been here. I’d never have imagined myself traveling outside my home state before, and now I’m halfway across the world. And because of the upside-down seasons here in the Southern Hemisphere, it’s actually spring leading to summer; back home, our fall has me starting to feel a bit glum.

  “How does that sound, my darling?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist. Our hotel rooms are our only place for privacy, and he’s been focusing so hard on the business expansion plans that I’ve actually seen him gain a protruding vein.

  We sneak off, renting a car from the hotel concierge, even though the Boyd delegation actually has its own fleet of town cars at the ready. “Easier this way,” Magnus grins at me, putting on his sunglasses as he slides into the driver’s seat. “You know, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re perfect, my darling.”

  “No, you’re perfect, Mr Billionaire,” I reply. “Would’ve never dreamt of even going this far. I mean, I’ve definitely had this dream. Travel has always been something I’ve wanted to do. But I could never afford to, you know?”

  “And now it’s part of your work,” Magnus smiles. “Lucky girl.”

  “Very lucky girl,” I muse. Being with Magnus makes me feel special. There’s something lovely about being with him. Feeling the presence of this benevolent, adoring man. The sensitive side to the cocky, powerful alpha male who controls everything.

  “This is the beach, I think,” Magnus says, looking straight ahead.

  “You think?” I ask rhetorically, noticing the pa
tch of golden sand, doused in the perfect sunlight of the region. “I mean, it looks like a beach to me.”

  “Don’t know if it’s the right one,” Magnus grins back. “I’m a CEO, not a tour guide. Although the app on my phone says this is nice. C’mon! Let’s claim our own little corner before we lose the sun.”

  Magnus leads me, holding my hand in his, squeezing every time we navigate around the small crowd at the beach. He’s wearing a purple linen shirt over a nice, black pair of swimming shorts. I hadn’t even thought of the beach before this trip so all I can do is wear a sundress. No bikini for this girl.

  The billionaire finds a spot that satisfies him, and he decides to unfold the big picnic mat he had packed with him. “There’ll be someone coming over selling ice cream,” he suggests. “I’ll take chocolate.”

  “No surprise there,” I wink at him. “Oh, Magnus, this is just so great. How did you find the time to escape all the negotiations anyway? Aren’t you beyond busy right now? You’ve been pulling twenty hour days, it seems like.”

  “If you think I’m busy, you should see the actual acquisitions team.” The billionaire’s grin for me drops just the slightest bit as he sighs, exhaling out all his worries. “Fuck, it feels good to be here with you. I just want to lie down in the sun with you, and not do anything for a short while. Nothing.”

  “We don’t need to talk, either,” I point out. “Just be together. Just be here with you. Won’t that be great?”

  “Absolutely swell,” he nods. Magnus leaves a stream of kisses to the back of my neck, and I feel myself shudder on how nice it feels to have his lips press against my skin.

  The first few days we’ve been here, I’ve not truly had a chance to be alone with him. I spent the first night asleep with him, but we didn’t even have sex — by the time he was done with the meetings, he was just totally drained, and I was already half asleep. But we’ve been finding time, somehow, squeezing rare windows of opportunity to have quickies together.

  When was he going to come out about our relationship, I kept wondering. I know it’s unfair to press that to him, knowing that any such open display of us as a couple would put my position as his secretary in an awkward position, but this is something I crave all the same.

  On the beach, lying down together, I know that he can truly be the man for me. He has me questioning every doubt I’ve ever had in the past about any partner. After a lifetime of bad boyfriends ranging from neglectful to actively monstrous, Magnus’ solid, reliable, absolutely concrete status has me breathing sighs of relief.

  “Isn’t it perfect, just being here?” I ask him, closing my eyes as I nuzzle my way up close to him.

  “Perfect in its perfection,” Magnus concurs. “You know, I don’t even notice the presence of others on this beach. Even though it’s pretty busy, for a Wednesday afternoon. Sydney’s obsessed with the beach.”

  I glance around and see the families, the friends, the couples all staring adoringly into each others’ eyes. “I can see that.”

  “You know what’s also neat? Sex on the beach.”

  Won’t lie, my reflex is to shudder. “Too much sand everywhere. And I think I’d rather not have my butt out for public consumption. You never know. There are voyeurs everywhere.”

  “Is that a dig at me?” Magnus grins.

  “Are you a Peeping Tom? You’d like to watch me from afar?”

  The billionaire pulls me close, whispering. “I’d rather watch you from up close. But if privacy’s an issue… I could probably buy this beach and seal it off before you’re even done undressing.”

  “The things you do to impress me,” I say with a wink, impressed by his bravado.

  The look in his eyes tells me he would literally do just that.

  “Ah, Shaleigh,” Magnus whispers, lowering himself back down to the picnic mat. “This is so nice. This is better than being in any stretch limo or helicopter. I just want to soak up the sun with you.”

  “I want to do everything with you,” I nod. There’s an upsurge of feeling rising through me right now, and I almost want to pause for a second and collect myself. Am I truly in Australia right now, enjoying a hot, lovely day at the beach during an East Coast fall?

  Instead of answers, I give out a sigh.

  “You make me happy, Magnus,” I say, blinking lazily at him. In his presence, I feel totally secure. He seesaws between his various modes — the charming, attractive man who provides for his girlfriend; the billionaire shark whose life revolves solely around work; the detached professional who sees only figures on charts. But I get to see the real him: Magnus Boyd in his truest sense, opening up for me. “Thank you,” I add with a whisper.

  “This feels wonderful,” Magnus agrees. He lifts his sunglasses briefly. “You sure you don’t want sex on the beach?”

  “Magnus! You pervert.”

  “Not a pervert. Just hopelessly attracted. Addicted, even. You do taste amazing…” he whispers. A shudder instantly ripples through me. Yes, he does everything right.

  “Do we really have to go back to work after this?” I yawn.

  “Oh, darling, sleep the day away if you want. Rest that pretty head of yours on my chest. But yes, alas, we wicked souls of capitalism only get a single day off. Tomorrow I have the big business luncheon with several financing houses who’ll help facilitate the big merger.”

  “Jesus Christ, Magnus,” I sit up. “That was the single most unromantic sentence ever. It’s like you picked every single word there from a business textbook.”

  “There’s going to be a synergy between the various servicing agencies,” Magnus plays further, “bringing about parallel trade links to further enhance our market capitalization.”

  I groan loudly. “You’re too much of a businessman.”

  “I take pride in everything I do,” he counters, a glint of amusement clear in his eyes. “And I take pride in the rare afternoons I get to spend with the woman of my dreams.”

  “Whoa there, cowboy,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this about ‘woman of your dreams’, huh?”

  Magnus smoothly shrugs. “Might as well be honest about it.”

  “I’m no dream girl,” I point out, and deep down I’m surprised to be so defensive about it. “I’m a very messed up person inside, I just happen to show you all the best bits.”

  “So… just like every other person during this early stage of a relationship,” Magnus answers, with impressive insight. “Shaleigh, there’s nothing you need to hide from me. That’s not to mean that I myself am a paragon of transparency here, but the reality is… I care about you. Deeply. And having seen so many sides of you, I know you’re so well-suited for me. I don’t want to make you sound like a bunch of checklists. But the reality is, we work great together. Like I have always known. Like I have always told you.”

  I smile at Magnus, tempering all the feelings in turmoil inside. “I don’t want you thinking I’m someone I’m not, though,” I insist.

  “My darling,” he soothes, “I’d say if there’s anyone out there with the right sort of sense to figure out who you are… it would be me. Maybe I’ve just pierced the surface now. Maybe you’re going to continue to be guarded. But I understand that. I’m guarded too, remember? I’ve never let anyone in like this.”

  “I know that,” I answer timidly.

  “So we’re both figuring things out together.”

  Through the dark lenses of his shades, I see him close his eyes as he relaxes his body and reclines more comfortably against the ground.

  I nuzzle up to him, letting our toes briefly play a little game of trying to interlock, and then I exhale all my anxious thoughts away. Everything, from the stress of work to the distant fear of Dennis catching up to me, bleeds away when I’m around Magnus.

  It’s funny how despite everything presenting itself so perfectly to me, I need constant reminders of his adoration and love. But they’re there. When I open my eyes, really open my eyes like now, I can see it.

 
He means every word.

  Chapter Twenty

  On the flight back from Sydney, which hits me in the heart instantly (why can’t a girl get more time with her busy, confident man?), I sit with the other secretaries in Economy, while Magnus lives it large in First Class.

  I don’t mind. After all, I am his secretary first and his girlfriend second.

  Or… that’s how I’ve justified it.

  My eyes close and the other girls keep their chatter to a respectful, low volume. But I can hear the excitement. Frances has been to Australia before, but only Melbourne. She’s going on nonstop about how exciting it was to be in Sydney. I pretend to sleep, but I can’t help but smile.

  When we land, Magnus turns around and faces our large group. “I’ve commissioned a retinue of Boyd Industries cars to send you wherever you need. Four people to a car. You guys figure out who lives where, and the cars will get you home ASAP.”

  Then with a brisk nod, he walks towards a chauffeur waiting for him outside a fancy car I’ve yet to see him in. Of course, his fleet of cars is bound to be larger than the half dozen or so I’ve gone around with him in.

  I’m about to discuss with Jane and Cindy on who lives closest to me, when I get a tap on my shoulder.

  It’s Phil! “Oh my God, what the hell are you doing here, Phil?” I ask my roommate, who’s even holding up a handmade sign saying WELCOME HOME, SHELL!, complete with little drawings of shells.

  I explode into a warm smile as he drops the sign and wraps his arms around me. “Girl, I’ve missed you too damn much,” he says, in his campiest voice. “Oh damn, who are these supermodels you work with?”

  “Oh!” I quickly bring him into the circle. “Girls, this is Phil.”

  “Boyfriend?” Frances raises an eyebrow with a grin. Oh, that poor naive girl. Maybe in another life — because right now, my boyfriend’s your boss.

  Well, my boss too.

  It’s clear from the way Salma, Jane and Cindy smirk that they know the truth here.