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‘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
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.’
