One Night with Her Brooding Boss: Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby / Her Impossible Boss / The Secretary’s Bossman Bargain. Susan Stephens
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‘Well, of course we do,’ Magenta agreed, trying to remain calm. ‘But why do you trust the men here more than the women? What makes you assume they have more ability? Quinn, I don’t know what’s happened to you!’ she exclaimed finally, as exasperation got the better of her.
The expression in Quinn’s eyes gave her no hope at all.
‘Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that what happens between us in our off-duty moments is a green light in the office.’
‘I haven’t,’ Magenta protested. ‘I wouldn’t—’
‘But that’s exactly what you’re doing,’ Quinn cut in. ‘Since last night, you have had expectations that go far beyond the bedroom. Well?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Don’t you, Magenta?’
‘I thought I could trust you, yes.’
‘You can trust me. You can trust me to keep a consistent line. You can’t walk in here hours after your promotion and think you can order this business to your liking. New systems have to be tried and proven first. I don’t operate a business on a whim—not even my own whim, and especially not yours.’
As each hammer blow landed on her heart, Magenta wished one of them would be violent enough to wake her up. How could anyone share what she’d shared with Quinn last night and feel nothing? How could he switch off from her like this? And, as for the green light, the only light she was aware of was flashing in her brain, telling her she’d made a fool of herself. And their ‘off-duty moments’? Quinn made their love-making sound like a useful alternative to counting sheep.
She’d let her team down, and wouldn’t make things right by handing in her resignation. And, even if she waited for this nightmare to pass, what if it didn’t pass? What if this was her life now?
She had to stay and fight. It didn’t matter whether this was a dream or her reality now, her internal dial would remain tuned to the same setting it was always on, which was survival and the determination to defend those she cared about.
She couldn’t have felt worse when she called the girls together. ‘You’re far more supportive than I deserve,’ she told them, feeling dreadful when she noticed the small bunch of flowers someone had arranged in a vase on her desk. ‘I’ve let you down, misled you. I can’t apologise enough for what happened at the meeting. I had no idea Quinn would take that line. I really thought he was going to involve all of you in the steering group for the campaign. But this isn’t the end,’ she promised. ‘I won’t allow your ideas to be squandered or diluted by anyone—and we’re not going to sulk or cause a problem,’ she added decisively. ‘We’re going to win this battle by being the very best we can and by selling direct to the customer.’
‘Quinn,’ Nancy supplied.
‘Yes, that’s right, Nancy—Quinn,’ Magenta agreed. ‘Quinn is the only person we have to convince.’ She exclaimed with shock as a familiar hand took hold of her arm and firmly moved her aside.
‘I was trying to warn you,’ Nancy explained discreetly as Quinn went into his office and shut the door.
Could the girls hear her heart hammering? Magenta hoped not. It was crucial that they still believed in her or those typing-pool partitions would soon be up again. ‘I’m going in to see him now, to convince him he’s made a mistake and needs us on board. I had a word with him after the meeting, but I was too angry to think straight, and so of course Quinn took advantage.’
‘That’s not such a bad thing, is it?’ Nancy said, injecting some much-needed humour into the tense mix. ‘We’ve all seen the way Quinn looks at you.’ Nancy glanced around the other girls for confirmation.
‘Please stop.’ This was absolutely the last thing Magenta wanted to hear. ‘I can assure you there is nothing going on between Quinn and me.’ Not any longer there wasn’t—nor was there ever likely to be again. ‘We’re as different as two people could be.’
‘We all saw the way he touched you just now,’ Nancy argued. ‘And you never know when a hand on your arm leads to a night on your back,’ she added, which made the other girls laugh.
Magenta blushed furiously as the girls continued to tease her, but she was glad they were laughing again. ‘Quinn’s probably watching us,’ she warned. ‘We’d better get back to work. We don’t want to give him any reason for complaint. Just pick up where you left off,’ she said, exchanging meaningful looks with the girls. ‘We’re not going to give up on this.’
Playing by Quinn’s rules, Magenta took him his morning coffee and remained calm as she shut the door. But the moment he looked up at her all her protective instincts for the girls rose up and poured out. ‘You’ve made a mistake cutting the girls out of the equation.’
‘Well, thank you for your opinion, Magenta, but I’ve made the right decision—and you’ve just proved it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There’s no place for emotion at the office, and if I encourage women to seek promotion it would open the floodgates.’
‘To feelings?’ Whatever she said now would influence every woman’s future at the company. ‘Isn’t that exactly why my team’s ideas are more likely to connect with the public than yours? Or do you really think the market deserves another macho ad-campaign dreamed up by men?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with passion.’
‘But no to emotion? How does that work, Quinn? ‘
‘Magenta.’ He sighed. ‘I have work to do.’
‘Allow the girls to work on their projects without consulting the men at every turn and they’ll work faster,’ she pleaded with him. ‘Let them do that, and then you judge which campaign you prefer. Or is that too big a risk for your male ego to take?’
There was a glint in Quinn’s eyes as he leaned back to stare at her.
‘This is all about you running a successful business, isn’t it?’ Magenta continued. ‘Or did I miss something? And there is one question I would like you to answer.’
‘Which is? ‘ Quinn’s eyes turned hard.
‘What difference does gender make to a successful team?’
He relaxed, making her wonder if Quinn had expected her to attack him on the personal front. ‘That’s for you to prove and for all of us to find out,’ he said.
‘We still get our chance?’ She kept the pressure on. She had no intention of walking away from this and making things easy for him.
‘Don’t push me, Magenta.’
‘So, that’s a yes?’
‘That’s a maybe,’ he corrected her.
She counted it as a victory—however small—and, knowing she’d pushed things as far as she could, she turned to the subject of the end-of-year party. How many more of these cold-blooded meetings with Quinn could she take? It was better to get through as much as she could now, Magenta reasoned.
Quinn was looking at her as if assessing how much she could take on. ‘It will be held at the end of this week, well before Christmas,’ he said. ‘Not much time for you to arrange things, but that suits my schedule better. Well? Don’t you have work to do?’
Magenta’s head was reeling with all the things she had to do. Quinn had just brought the party forward with no warning at all. She could throw up her hands and admit defeat, or.
‘If you can’t handle it,’ he said, ‘just let me know.’
‘I can handle it,’ she assured him.
‘Do you have a theme?’
Did she have a theme?
‘If it’s good enough, it might buy your team a second hearing.’