Gray Quinn's Baby

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?’