One Night with Her Brooding Boss: Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby / Her Impossible Boss / The Secretary’s Bossman Bargain

She had to ignore the ache of disappointment inside her and do her job. ‘Nancy? ‘ she prompted. ‘Would you like to begin by explaining what we have here on the easels?’

Magenta had never wanted to hog the limelight, and couldn’t help but be thrilled by the audible gasp of surprise from the men when Nancy revealed the team’s first idea. Vivid, graphic imagery and clever text was a winning combination—no one could deny it, not even the men around the table. The general theme was irony, suggesting men must be catered for and even spoiled a little so that women were free to do their own thing.

‘You’re suggesting we should be pampered and cosseted so we work harder and stay out of your way?’ one of the men queried, glancing at Quinn—who had remained carefully neutral up to now—to see his reaction.

‘With more women in the work place year on year, I’m sure that’s a message that resonates with everyone,’ Magenta said, defending her team’s premise good-humouredly.

‘I think we can see that Magenta’s group is coming up with some sound ideas,’ Quinn observed. ‘Not all of them will fly,’ he added, ‘but I’m sure we can tailor them to suit our purposes. They will enrich the project—and we shouldn’t close our minds to a new approach,’ he added when there were murmurs of discontent from the men around the table.

What did Quinn mean? Magenta wondered. She didn’t want to rain on her team’s parade—the women were all excited that at last they were being taken seriously—but having their ideas ‘tailored’ to fit in with those of the men didn’t sound like the end result Magenta had been aiming for.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_1475db5e-27f0-5b71-81d0-4e701bc969f6)

MAGENTA’S worst fears were soon confirmed.

‘Jackson, you take the graphics and work on them,’ Quinn instructed. ‘And Michael, you handle the fashion side of things. You’re more in touch with your feminine side than the rest of us.’

As if a dam had burst, the tension between the men at the table relaxed and they all burst out laughing; it wasn’t kind laughter. It was laughter directed at the women in their midst, as if to be a woman was somehow contrary to the laws of business.

Or at least business under Quinn, Magenta thought, feeling betrayed. She could only watch in impotent horror as one by one the ideas her team had worked so hard on were handed over to a member of Quinn’s team to progress. The good of the business had to be her only concern if everyone was going to keep their job, but how was she going to explain this to the women who had trusted her? She could feel their shock as well as their disappointment. They would become resigned soon and she couldn’t wait around for that to happen. ‘May I have a word with you—in private?’ she asked Quinn when he brought the meeting to a close.

‘About business?’

‘What else?’ Her gaze drilled into him, telling him in pretty blunt language what she thought of both his question and his manner.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ he said when the last man had left the room.

‘I prefer to remain standing, thank you.’

‘As you wish.’

Getting up from his chair, Quinn went to stand beside the window, staring out. It had started snowing, Magenta noticed, but that was nothing to the sheet of ice that had closed around her heart. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

Quinn turned to face her. ‘And as far as I’m aware,’ he said, ‘I have fulfilled my obligation to you.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re doing,’ Magenta admitted.

‘It’s clear enough to me.’

‘Well, not to me. My ideas and those of my team—I thought you were prepared to consider them, to incorporate them. I never imagined for one moment that you, of all people, would steal them.’

‘Steal them?’ Quinn demanded. ‘What are you suggesting? ‘ His eyes turned black.

Her job, her future—everything hung in the balance, Magenta realized. But this was a battle that had to be fought. ‘You took ideas the women have been working hard to perfect and handed them over to the men when all the hard work has been done. I wouldn’t mind, but those men don’t have an original idea between them. Why should they claim credit for work that isn’t theirs? ‘

‘We all work for the same company.’

‘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? ‘