Page 4 of Merry & Bright

Chapter Two

Quick & Blacks occupiedjust one half of the fifth floor of Sterling House. Our main UK branch office, which was huge and state-of-the-art, was in London. The Manchester regional office was, well, compact and bijou. Very much an outpost of the main operation. That was why the cornerstone of my five-year plan was to relocate to London, where the real action was. It didn’t matter how hard I worked if nobody noticed. Out of sight was out of mind.

The Manchester office had opened five years ago, when Quicks had acquired Marlene Joseph Associates, a small independent management consultancy started by my boss, Marley.

Marley was a force of nature. Small, petite and belligerent, she was notorious for her “scorched earth” approach. She’d shock potential clients by announcing, with every appearance of pride, that she’d fired tens of thousands of workers over the course of her career, then she’d follow that shocking pronouncement up with a conscience-soothing sales pitch about sometimes needing to burn the deadwood away before the new green shoots could rise.

In truth, she did the dirty work that the clients didn’t want to do themselves.

If a company was thinking about slashing a department or closing a whole office, Marley would make it easy for them. She’d go in, observe the business for a few weeks, write a report to the board recommending the necessary brutal changes, and then, once the board had approved the plan, she’d implement the whole thing as an outsourced project. The board wouldn’t have to do a thing, not even select who was being fired. No choices, no responsibility. No need to look anyone in the eye and tell them the bad news.

Or as Marley said to me privately, in her snarky way:We’re the big boy who did it and ran away.

I’d started working with Marley shortly before Quicks bought her out. At first, I’d only intended to do the job for a year. The salary was good and Ben and I had decided to save up to go travelling. But somehow a year had become two, then three. There was always one more project I wanted to finish before we booked our tickets.

The thing was, I was good at the job. I had an eye for detail, an agile brain that could absorb and organise large amounts of information, and a confident manner that went down well with clients. It hadn’t taken long for Marley to notice me and start singling me out to lead on key parts of her projects. And I’d thrived on that trust.

When Ben finally snapped, announcing that he was going travelling with or without me, I’d been determined to hand in my notice. But when I told Marley my decision, she’d asked me to reconsider.

I’ve got my eye on you for partnership, Quin. If that’s what you want, you’ll be making a mistake if you leave now. A big one.

The funny thing was, up until that minute, Ihadn’twanted partnership. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. But as soon as she put it in my mind, as soon as it was a real possibility, Ididwant it. I’d always been like that, even as a little kid. Single-minded and competitive. And my desire to succeed at Quicks had been bigger than my desire to give Ben what he wanted.

So Ben had flown to the States, and I’d stayed in England. We’d decided on a trial break, one that became permanent six months later when Ben met Leon, another British backpacker, while surfing in California. And now, eighteen months later, they were back home and moving in together.

And that was just fine by me.

It wasn’t as if I gave a damn about what Ben was doing these days.

The lift doors swished open at the fifth floor and I strode out, flashing my pass at the little black box fixed to the wall outside Quicks’ glass doors.

Holly was on reception. She was pretty new, having replaced Lena, who had recently gone on maternity leave. I found her a bit irritating, with her endless questions and attempts at mindless chitchat.

“Morning, Quin,” she said now, smiling. “Not long till Christmas!”

“Yeah,” I replied shortly “Listen, could you organise a triple-shot latte for me? I’ll come get it once I’ve logged on.”

Marley had had a Krug coffee machine brought into the office, and all our receptionists were given professional barista training. It was one of those little touches Marley thought was important:Do you know how many productive hours are lost by employees leaving the office to buy coffee, Quin?

Lena knew everyone’s coffee preferences by heart. She’d have had my latte on the way before I’d even walked through the door—it irritated the hell out of me that I was having to ask Holly for it.