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“Time, wondrous time”
TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED BY WITHOUT ANY ISSUES OR CONCERNS.
Two weeks were Maggie spent acting and carrying out the duties that one would expect from the position of personal assistant and rather seamlessly if she was to gloat, having sent more than once an ‘I told you so’ text to Nat and Clint (mostly Clint) who both had the silly notion that Maggie wouldn’t be believable as a personal assistant and would have try some other way to get close to Tony Stark. ‘Well,’ she would think a bit smugly to herself as she sat beside said man in the back of the official Stark Industries town car, heading towards Las Vegas for the long awaited Apogee Awards. ‘Jokes one them, can’t wait for Clint to give me that twenty.’
“Soo, Maria.” Tony called over the boisterous sound of AC/DC’s ‘Shoot to thrill’ from where he sat next to her in the luxurious and sleek limousine that they were currently riding into the private Stark Industries air hanger to take a plane to Las Vegas. “Ever been to Vegas before?”
‘Not unless you count the time I tracked down the infamous South African weapons dealer, Ulysses Claude after he double crossed Dreykov in a weapons deal and left him one armless than when I found him ... .then yeah, sure.’ Rather than answer with such a questionable and revealing answer, Maggie would instead shake her head lightly and place a faux, bubbly smile on her lips as she said “Nope. Can’t say that I have, Mr. Stark.”
“Really? Why?” he looked at her intrigued over the fallen edge of his glasses, before nodding and pushing them back up with a cheeky grin. “Oh and please, how many times have I told you to call me Tony? Mr. Stark was my father and if there is anything I am not and never want to be, it is my father.”
