‘Someone knows their English grammar,’ Owen muttered and turned away from Lexie’s inquisitive glance.
Briefly, the audience laughed. George shone a searchlight glare on them, hot enough to fry a full English breakfast, and the laughter faded.
‘This is not funny,’ he said. ‘This is life or death for the magazine. Now I don’t expect you to care about WIV, but I expect you care about your pay packets. So, if you want to continue receiving them, you must all lift your games. Understand?’
There was a subdued rumble from the group.
‘To help you with that,’ George continued. ‘You have a new features editor.’ He slapped Owen on the shoulder. ‘Owen Kingsley. Some of you may recognise him.’
‘Oh, yes, I do,’ Victor, the arts and entertainments writer chipped in
‘Hopefully, you’re the only one,’ Owen said and glared at the floor.
George paced in front of Kate’s desk as, determined to spread Owen’s fame, he went on. ‘Owen has worked for nearly every prestigious news outlet you can think of. For many years, he worked for the BBC. What Owen doesn’t know about journalism is not worth knowing. He’ll be running the features department. Everything you write goes past him before it gets to my desk. Got it?’
A murmur of assent and George cleared his throat. ‘Just to be clear, I don’t want you wasting Owen’s time with the sort of crap you’ve been pushing my way these last few months. He’ll be a busy man writing his own articles, so I don’t want you lot giving him work that is not worthy of a first-year journalism student. You hand in your best work, and Owen will make it better. Hand in crap, and he’s under my instructions to give it straight back to you. Right, that’s it. Time to get busy.’
Relieved the meeting was over, Owen looked up and found violet-blue eyes watching him, and he knew life was about to get complicated.
* * *
Lookingat Owen’s scowling expression, Lexie wondered what on earth she had let herself in for. She’d never worked for a magazine before, and certainly not with a star reporter, who from all outward appearances seemed to be a deeply troubled man. But it was too late to back out now. Besides, I need the money. She looked away from Owen, hitched her camera bag onto her shoulder, and picked up her holdall.
Moving to her side and casting an eye over her luggage, he said, ‘You seem to have brought a lot of things.’
‘Camera etc., in this.’ Lexie patted the larger of the two bags. ‘And my clothes for the week in the other.’
‘Lexie’s staying with me rather than commuting,’ Kate explained.
‘Right,’ Owen nodded.
‘Company for you as well, Kate. Nice.’ George grinned at them all. ‘Now then, how about a spot of lunch before you get down to it?’
Feeling stupidly shy, Lexie looked at Owen.
He said, ‘I’ve work to do.’
‘Oh.’ George seemed taken aback by Owen’s abrupt tone. ‘Then how about you girls go for lunch together? That all right with you, Owen?’
‘Fine.’ Owen shrugged and began to walk away, then added grimly, ‘Be back by two p.m. In time for the assignment from hell.’