Gray Quinn's Baby

It was Quinn who brought the session to an end. Operating the lever at the side of his chair, he sat up. ‘I always suspected you were a dark horse.’

‘Did I do something wrong?’

‘On the contrary, that was the most sensuous massage I have ever experienced.’

‘But what about the product?’

‘What about the product?’

‘You’re supposed to be assessing it.’

‘I thought I just had. Write it up,’ he said, removing the protective sheet from his neck and handing it to her. ‘Give yourself full credit. I’ll expect your report on my desk by lunchtime today, Magenta.’

‘And you’ll listen to the ideas of my team now?’ She held her breath.

‘I gave you my word, didn’t I?’

She wanted to leap up and kiss him, but of course she had more sense.

‘Anyone stand out for you?’ Quinn demanded on his way out of the door.

So many of the girls had flair she hardly knew where to begin. ‘Nancy, Maria, Josie—’ Oh, to hell with it. ‘If you could just give them all a chance.’

‘And?’ Quinn said, suspecting there was something more.

‘Equal pay with the men?’

‘You don’t want much,’ he said wryly.

No, but while he was in a good mood she was going to ask for it.

‘All of these things have to be earned,’ Quinn observed. ‘Regardless of gender.’

‘So you’d consider making changes?’

‘When I do, you’ll be the first to hear.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me—you’ll be typing up the memos. If you can’t take the heat, you’d better get out of the kitchen, Magenta.’

‘I can take it.’ Yes. Yes! Oh boy, could she take it. This was an incredible turnaround from the most intransigent of men.

‘Good, because you’ll be adding all this new work to your regular duties.’

Would there come a point where she crumpled beneath the pressure? Well, if there did, Quinn wouldn’t care—so she had better not. Getting that break for the girls was the only thing that mattered.

Magenta could barely wait for Quinn to leave the room before flinging the protective sheet he’d handed her into the air with a whoop of excitement. The next step would be planning a new ad campaign with her team.

The girls were giddy with excitement just at the thought of being taken seriously. The sexism and chauvinism in the office knew no bounds and Magenta could hardly believe that such intelligent and vital individuals had been disregarded solely on the basis of gender. How could these women have been kept down for so long, subjugated by the men? How could any manager afford to waste such a valuable resource?

Having assured her new colleagues that their ideas really were going to be listened to, she got down to writing up her report and delivered it to Quinn before lunchtime as instructed. To her amazement, he handed her a typewritten sheet. ‘My report,’ he said.

‘Thank you…’ Perhaps they were getting somewhere after all. Holding the sheet of folded paper close, she left the room feeling warm inside. And, yes, even a little triumphant. If all the battles ahead of her would be so easily won…

‘Leave my door open, will you?’ Quinn called after her.

‘Of course.’

Quinn wasn’t so bad, Magenta decided, settling down at her desk. He just needed handling. She was in charge of collating the results for the trials and, now she had Quinn’s report, she could make a start.

Studying the sheet of paper he’d given her, Magenta’s eyes widened.

Dinner tonight, Quinn had written. Pick you up at your place at eight—no excuses.

It was less of an invitation and more of an instruction.

Magenta tensed. Reports forgotten, she stared into space. Kisses were one thing, but anything more… She had just experienced a prolonged sensory experience with Quinn and now he was calling her bluff. Was she up to a one-on-one meeting after work?

‘Did you want to talk business tonight?’ She turned with the note in her hand to speak to him through the open door.

‘What else?’ Quinn said impatiently, waving her away.

A business meeting. Well, that was all right, and would give her a chance to learn more about Quinn. She felt a thrill of anticipation. Of course she could handle it. She was a big girl, wasn’t she? She could always say no. How could she turn Quinn down without offending him? That might put the girls’ future prospects in jeopardy, which she would never do.

Turning in her chair, she flashed Quinn a faint smile and a nod. It didn’t do to look too eager.

Hemlines were getting shorter, according to the fashion magazines the girls kept around the office. Venturing into one of the tiny boutiques, that had sprung up down a street Magenta knew would one day be turned into office blocks, was a temptation she couldn’t resist. Armed with cash from her wage packet, she was ready to shop. The chance to wear one of the daring outfits for Quinn being showcased in the shop windows was slightly less appealing—she’d feel safer in a sack—but she guessed he might baulk at that for their evening out.