Gray Quinn's Baby

‘I think we all know the answer to that question,’ Magenta admitted. ‘But let’s concentrate on things we can change rather than worrying about those we can’t.’

‘So, what do we have to do?’ Nancy demanded, hands on hips.

‘Trial a few products?’

‘Oh, that sounds nice,’ Nancy said sourly. ‘Let me guess—pan scrubs, sweeping brushes and limescale-removal cream?’

‘Make-up, beauty products and clothes, actually. And you get to keep the samples.’

‘Quinn’s buying us,’ Nancy observed sceptically as the other girls exclaimed with pleasure.

‘No. I believe Quinn genuinely wants our opinions,’ Magenta argued. ‘It’s as simple as that.’

‘Nothing is ever as simple as that,’ Nancy commented, studying her nails.

‘Maybe not,’ Magenta agreed. ‘But are we going to let a few tubes of lipstick stand in our way?’

‘No,’ the girls shouted, while someone else chipped in. ‘This is bigger than lipstick. This is a fight for freedom.’

‘To the barricades!’ Nancy exclaimed as everyone laughed. ‘But don’t forget to put your make-up on first.’

‘So, are you with us, Nancy?’ Magenta asked, turning serious.

‘You bet I am. After what I’ve taken from those men today, I’m itching for a fight.’

She might have known, Magenta thought as she entered the room where they were to trial the products at the head of her girls. Sweet little dressing-tables had been set out for each of them as if they were life-sized Barbie dolls. On top of these was spread an array of high-end beauty products guaranteed to make any woman’s heart beat faster. Fortunately, both Magenta and her newly formed team knew how to play it cool—which was just as well, seeing as Quinn’s team was standing ready with their clipboards waiting to take down their thoughts.

‘How nice,’ Magenta murmured, as if trialling nail varnishes and lipsticks was all her candy-floss heart had ever yearned for. She gestured that her team should choose a seat, and the girls smilingly obliged—but then they were in on the surprise Magenta had in store for the men.

Said men could hardly keep the smiles from their smug faces, though Quinn appeared quite relaxed about the trial he’d set up. And gorgeous, Magenta registered, with his crisp, white shirt rolled up to the elbows and beautifully tailored black trousers moulding the shape of his muscular thighs and hips with obscenely loving attention to detail. Undressing such a spectacular specimen would be a privilege…

‘Aren’t you going to sit down, Magenta?’

‘If there were enough chairs.’

‘Here, take mine—I won’t be needing it,’ Quinn explained as he held out a chair for her.

There was a distinct rustle of expectation in the air as the men adopted serious expressions. Once again, they were ready to jeer and jibe at the slightest cue from Quinn, but he remained brooding and unmoved. And now all Magenta had to do was to discover if she was as bold as she had promised the girls she would be on their behalf. Picking up a lipstick, she pursed her lips. ‘Glittering Fool’s Gold,’ she murmured, straightening up again. ‘What do you think of it?’

‘What do I think of it?’ Quinn said, frowning.

‘Yes. What do you think of it?’ Magenta repeated, standing up. She had everyone’s attention now. ‘According to men, women do everything for their benefit—so surely your opinion matters more than ours?’ She tipped her chin to stare Quinn in the eyes, all the while smiling pleasantly. ‘Would you like to taste it?’ An audible intake of breath rose around her, but before there could be any misunderstanding she handed the lipstick over to Quinn. ‘You don’t have to put it on. You could lick it, or suck it.’

Taking her arm, Quinn drew her out of earshot of the others.

‘This is a serious trial and you’re a disruptive influence. What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Magenta?’

‘Conducting a serious trial,’ Magenta insisted in a heated whisper. ‘This lipstick looks as good as the one I use, but it tastes like medicine mixed with pond swill. Would you kiss a girl wearing something like that twice?’

Quinn’s eyes narrowed dangerously and it took all her strength to hold his gaze without flinching. The glint in his eye said she’d gone too far again, but he couldn’t argue with her motives. ‘I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time,’ he said. ‘But keep it straight from here on in. No jokes. No double entendre. Don’t try any more tricks. Understood?’