Gray Quinn's Baby

Now she found herself staring at the back of her own office door as Quinn closed it in her face.

Then it flew open again. ‘Magenta?’ Quinn rapped. ‘My office. Now.’

You could have heard a pin drop behind her. They all anticipated her immediate dismissal, Magenta guessed. She countered that expectation with her sweetest smile. ‘Of course,’ she replied respectfully; respectful was good—essential—at least until she learned the ropes. Walking inside, she shut the door behind her.

‘Let’s get one thing clear,’ Quinn said, handing Magenta the hairpiece she had left on his desk. ‘You do not use my office in my absence for grooming purposes. You do not come in here at all, unless at my express invitation. And, if I’m at work early, you are too.’

‘And how would I—?’

‘How would you know?’ he interrupted, narrowing his eyes. ‘I was coming to that. Do you have your notebook? No? Carry it with you at all times? You have a “must do” list, don’t you? When I give you a memo to alert you to the fact that I will be in here at six in the morning, I expect you to note it down. Why are you late, by the way?’

Magenta opened her mouth and wondered which of the million and one reasons on the tip of her tongue would work best in Wonderland. ‘I apologise,’ she said, thinking better of making a fight out of it just yet. ‘I just thought you might appreciate a couple of days to become acclimatized.’

‘Acclimatised? I’ve come over from the States, not the moon. What’s wrong with you limies?’ Limies? Whoah; that was an old term Magenta guessed hadn’t been used much since the war. The term was a hangover from the way-back-when days, when British sailors were given limes to counteract scurvy. Surely they were way past that?

‘I need you here on time, Magenta,’ Quinn continued to rap. ‘You’re my assistant as well as the office manager. If the job’s too much for you, just let me know.’

‘It isn’t—I mean, yes, sir,’ Magenta spat out crisply, stopping just shy of a salute.

This was novel. This was annoying and confusing. And, alarmingly, it was pretty amazing too. Quinn was pretty amazing, with all that dark hair escaping his best attempt to tame it from falling over his brow. And those eyes, steely and fierce—not to mention the body currently concealed beneath some pretty sharply tailored clothes. Here at last was a man who was really worth taking on. Had she met her match at last? Forget all that nonsense about not wanting to add him to her workload; she would gladly put Quinn on her ‘must do’ list.

‘Please accept my apologies.’ She wanted to keep the job, such as it was, didn’t she? ‘I forgot you intended making such an early start. And I’ll be sure to remember my, er, “must do” list in future.’

‘Be sure you do. Just remember, this might be your first day on the job, but it gets you no special favours from me. I expect you up to speed by the end of the day. And any thoughts you might have had about taking time off before the holidays, cancel them.’

She had to swallow her pride. She’d been doing a lot of that recently, but it would only be until she found her feet down this complicated rabbit-hole—or, better still, until she woke up. ‘I’ll get the coffee, shall I?’

‘Yes, you do that,’ Quinn agreed. ‘And take that dead rat with you.’

‘Of course.’ She was only too happy to drop the horrible hairpiece in the first bin she found.

The men filed in and sat around the boardroom table as Magenta set the coffee down in front of Quinn. Her team, nearly all female, could have run rings around them, she concluded five minutes into the meeting. What were the women doing sitting outside typing? Surely some of them had flair?

She glanced at Quinn as he rubbed a hand across his eyes, as if he had forgotten something. Was it too much to hope he had intended to include some of the women in the meeting?

‘I should have asked for coffee for everyone,’ he apologised—to the men. ‘Magenta?’ he added brusquely, shooting an impatient glance her way.

She wasn’t going to snap back in front of the men, she decided. Quinn might have lost all sense of business protocol by speaking to her so rudely, but she hadn’t. ‘No problem at all,’ she said pleasantly, sweeping out of the room, surprised by the openly admiring glances she was attracting. She would gladly exchange those looks for a return to the casual acceptance of her gender she was used to. The men’s gazes burning a hole into her back made her really uncomfortable, though she was pleasantly surprised when one late arrival rushed to hold the door for her. Were her sensibilities changing too?