You're Worth Dying For Ch. 01

Grandfather Otis said $NZ2.6 million was a considerable amount to invest, sight unseen, on top of what he'd already advanced. He would leave his snow covered estate which rose up and beyond of the river valley near Chew Magna (10 miles from Bristol and a little farther from Bath)and come to inspect Maggie's proposal for its robustness as it would mean he'd have to cash up from some other investments.

"But for you, my dear, anything -- at present your activities are proving to be my second best investment. I'll see you next week."

"That's splendid of you, granddad. Please bring Anna with you."

"Well, what a grand idea but the truth is I haven't seen your former mother-in-law for months and months. But I'll give her a tingle and find what's up. She's not a fuss-pot so despite the short notice she'll come is she's available. If she can accompany me she and I..."

"Hey granddad!" Maggie interrupted. I'm your innocent young granddaughter, remember."

He chuckled and said he'd see her next week -- it had been almost twenty years since he was last in the Antipodes.

The next Thursday Maggie was at the airport to meet Granddad Otis but before hugging him she was enveloped in the arms of the wailing Anna. "I am so sorry I didn't come to the funeral," she said, but I was stricken with grief. I was very embarrassed sending you that $50,000 back but I really have no need for more money than I have now; I tried to explain that to you in my letter. You are a wonderful girl."

"Hush, keep calm. We must move on but I'll take you to the place where his ashes were scattered into the wind tomorrow, if that's you wish."

"Yes dear; I'd love to do that."

Maggie turned to her grandfather who was wearing tweeds and looking rather uncomfortable in them. He held out his arms and she sank into them, he raining gentle kisses on her forehead.

"Your grandmother sends her love, many times over."

A car hire man approached and said, "All the luggage is safely aboard the car, Sir Otis. Whenever you are ready."

"Be a good chap and take Mrs Roberts to the hotel. Anna, I'm going with Maggie to look over this proposed acquisition of hers."

Obviously Otis, who was a young grandfather, being only thirty-eight and immensely surprised when his granddaughter was born, was not fatigued by the long flight with the one short stopover in Los Angeles; it also helped having traveled first-class.

"Grandfather, you should rest after your long trip," Maggie told the sixty-seven year old.

"Balderdash -- I need to take my first look now as I'm booked to fly to Taupo tomorrow afternoon for three days of lake and river trout-fishing. Can you join us? We are traveling by chartered aircraft and the lodge will find you a bed."

"Yes, of course, I'd love to accompany you."

The tour of the newspaper and commercial printing premises was a success, everyone impressed that Maggie's grandfather was titled (Cathie having discovered that) but he insisted everyone call him Otis.

Otis Anna and Maggie went to the cliffs overlooking a desolate part of Piha Beach where Maggie, accompanied only by her mother (at present on a tour of South Africa game parks) had scattered the ashes during an offshore wind. The three of them huddled together, arms bound and remaining silent for a few minutes, Anna wracked with sobs, the other two wiping their eyes.

At the end of Otis's week-long stay he told Maggie he would pick up the tab using Euros to pay for the new presses, their shipping and installation by the German supplier -- a total of $3,150,000 in New Zealand dollars and take up the equivalent value in shares in the Pukekura Publishing Company Ltd for that equivalent amount.

"Grandfather, you are wonderful -- the company is already a legal entity and I shall call a meeting tomorrow to elect the board and ratify the constitution and action other requirements including the articles of association and completing registration of shareholding. I shall arrange for all documentation, including notification of your shareholding from the registrar to be sent to your solicitors ASAP."

"Good girl. I am really impressed how you are going to haul this company back from the near-dead, Maggie. My lifetime in business tells me we're on to a winner here, providing you reach your circulation targets outside of the city; that's the key."

"I know, and defending ourselves against the onslaught by our two rival newspapers. Other than that, I see this whole thing as a walk in the park."

They laughed, shook on the deal and went out to dinner. Maggie had invited Ryan to accompany her but he'd already accepted his lady friend's invitation to dine out with Kate's parents.

Maggie wondered if that were a casual friend or perhaps a more than casual friend who was attempting to prepare Ryan to put a ring around her finger.

The weeks flew by. Maggie and her managers formally took over the business under the new company structure and Maggie was introduced to all employees as a meeting where she went on to explain the relocation plan. That was greeted with applause and further applause when it was disclosed that the present printing presses for the newspaper would be replaced by the latest machines from Germany with much higher capacity to allow for future growth.

"Mrs Robertshaw -- why waste money on higher capacity presses when the growth of our newspaper is limited because this city is designed to flatten out in growth when the population reaches 30,000 which is not far away?"

"An excellent question," Maggie beamed, and said vaguely, "Growth is where one finds it; we have no intention of wasting money."

Surprise was a common reaction from the body of employees but no elaboration was forthcoming, diverted by Cathie Hudson, Clive's PA, who invited Maggie to inform everyone about her academic qualifications, experience in business and her aspirations.

At the end of the meeting the executive chairman took Cathie aside and invited her to take up the new position as executive secretary attached to the office of the executive chairman.

"You mean as your PA?"

"Yes."

"I'd love to but..."

"But what?"

"I am already working as Mr Boys's chief assistant."

"I'll put it in such a way that Mr Boys will readily agree."

"Thank you, Mrs Roberts. I accept."

"Right, my first request is for you to notify everyone that I am to be called Maggie by everyone and that includes you."

"Very well, Maggie."

The threatened disruption to production came, driven by a small group of hard-nosed unionists, but good sense prevailed and the threat was dissipated. The board and management could now completely focus on company development.

Maggie climbed out of her lonely bed the next Saturday morning feeling fit, lucky and on top of everything. Then she remembered: tonight she was expected to dine with her neighbors, the Marks's, friends and their nephew Lillian had organized as a dinner companion for Maggie. She refused to allow negative thoughts about that upcoming encounter ruin her day.

Maggie dressed in a stretched t-shirt last used when painting, so big that she felt like King Kong on steroids, and a pair of old shorts she must have put away when leaving her teenage years -- they were so tight that she felt both crevices were disgustingly defined. However, they were the best clothes for the dirty job of de-griming the oven, black with fat spills burnt into charcoal.

She turned up the radio loud and went to work, and had her head in the oven -- not a self-cleaning model -- and was almost finished when she yelped as she received a sharp slap on the tail causing her to jerk forward in surprise, banging her head on the back of the oven.

She emerged enraged, ready to tear a strip off the person for that cowardly attack, a person she knew wouldn't be her mother because Harriet didn't engage in acts of stupidly -- that is, excluding sex. Real tears were dripping from her eyes as her butt was stinging and she felt she had an oven groove imprinted on her forehead. Backing out she jumped to her feet and baring her teeth -- at least that's what it felt -- she went to launch her attack only to be confronted by the inane grin of Ryan, the grin faltering as soon as he saw her apparent distress.

She couldn't believe it was HIM! Her vision turned red totally and a great welling came over her and her brain commanded attack. Maggie head-butted Ryan high on his chest and instinctively she pushed out her foot, bringing him down with a crash on to his back. She leaped on to him, ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying and sank her mouth on to his left nipple while her right hand snaked downwards between his tummy and top of his shorts. Only when her hand skidded under his briefs and she had her fingers wrapped around something soft and warm did she slow the pace of her attack.

She licked his engorged nipple. Stroking her hair Ryan puffed out some very memorable words: "Jesus, you dazed and winded me. Isn't it polite to ask before you start wanking me off?"

"Don't be crude -- kiss me."

Displaying strength he tucked his hands into her armpits and hauled her up along him to be kissed. She retained him grip on him lower down, pleased to feel some stiffening, They kissed, very gently -- so gently Maggie opened her eyes to check that their lips were meeting and looked straight into his opened eyes. "Oh God," she said, almost mewing.

With one heave he pulled her t-shirt up to her neck and his fingers unerringly found her very erect nipple.

"Oh God," said Lillian, walking in through the door. "Am I interrupting something?"

Maggie had the feeling of being in an aircraft doing down, at lease she imagined that's how it would feel. She swam through her panic to attempt to make it appear nothing untoward was happening.

"No, I was just saying good morning to a friend who arrived quite unexpectedly," Maggie said calmly, not moving except to remove her hand from his shorts as if what she was holding had turned into a red hot piece of pipe. "Ryan, this is Mrs Marks. Lillian, this is a business associate, Ryan de Lacey."

"Hello Ryan -- are you Tabatha's son?"

"Close but not quite -- she's my aunt. My mum is Teresa."

"Oh, I've not met her."

Pulling her top back down, Maggie said, "I had my head in the oven and the bastard whacked me."

"Ah, yes. Men get playful when they think a woman's on heat?"

Maggie boggled; surely Lillian was confusing women with farm animals? The moment then hit her and she could feel her very tightly constrained vulva beginning to pulsate. "Excuse me for half a minute, Lillian. Ryan behave." She climbed to her feet and fled to the bedroom to put on a bra and change into shorts that didn't make her feel like a whore.

Maggie's lipstick was a mess and so was her hair. By the time she returned to the kitchen Lillian and Ryan were sitting down eating the buttered hot scones Lillian had bought with her.

"Hope you don't mind," Lillian said. "I fetched a bottle of beer from your fridge for Ryan and I've fixed myself a gin, also one for you -- I think we need it."

"Yes, that's fine," Maggie squeaked, still acutely embarrassed, being even more aware that Lillian would have seen where she'd had her hand.

Maggie gulped down the weak gin and poured three fingers of gin and three fingers of tonic and downing half of that in a single gulp she felt better.

"Don't be embarrassed Maggie. I have an idea how you feel -- once my mother caught Harry and me doing it on the kitchen table and another time on the stairs. She walked very softly did my mum."

Maggie managed a titter and then mused she'd never thought of Lillian having sex and as for Harry, he had difficulty pushing the lawnmower. Obviously she'd meant in her courting days.

"She also caught us last summer when Harry was in the bath -- I had this sudden urge and jumped in with my clothes on. He was ripping them off me when mum walked in with Mrs Chapman -- she said there was so much noise she'd thought Harry was having a heart attack. With Harry seeing her and Mrs Chapman he almost had a coronary."

That was just too much. Maggie rolled off her chair, screaming with laughter. Ryan helped her up and said he'd be off -- he was now free of all socials ties and had called to see if Maggie wanted to have lunch with him tomorrow -- a picnic at the river.

Maggie said yes and to her dismay he invited Lillian to join them, Harry as well..."as long as you two promise not to misbehave."

Lillian shrieked with laughter and said perhaps some other time -- she expected that they'd have hangovers in the morning.

Ryan started to leave but Maggie called him back, asking hadn't he forgotten something. He tapped his pocket and said he had his keys but got the message when she puckered her lips. He kissed her, chastely. She thought that would do for a start.

"Nice ass," Lillian whispered very softly. Maggie agreed with that but didn't say so; there was no need to encourage her neighbor any further.

Maggie decided to be late for dinner, for no particular reason except perhaps to have meeting this guy Peter offset by being introduced to everyone else as well. She applied eye-liner feeling pleased with her strategy. She was nervous, but understandably so; she had no idea what Peter would be like -- she'd not been a component of anyone's blind date since...since...Maggie's shoulders slumped. Of course, not since Anna Robert called her son to Malta to have his way with her lover's granddaughter. Maggie sighed and thought that blind date had been a hoot and a holler -- they only staggered out of each other's arms in short periods of exhaustion during their whirlwind whatever one could call such a thing over forty-eight hours of holiday bliss. To suggest it was virtual non-stop sex was a fabrication of course but she did loose count; one does tend to exaggerate such wondrous encounters.

She'd been starved of sex on that occasion as well until Stephen appeared on the scene.

As well?

Maggie looked at her mirror image sternly: "You sly bitch -- you're going to fuck this Peter Whoever should he be half-acceptable to you, aren't you?" She denied it, but the dishonest expression of denial she saw on her face said it all.

"You slut," she grinned. "What about tomorrow?" Tomorrow's another day, she mouthed at herself, smiled and finishing left for her evening of uncertainty.

TO BE CONTINUED...