‘You’re not a client,’ Quinn said softly, standing a foot away from her. He looked down into her eyes, the hint of a smile still playing at his lips. Minnie narrowed her eyes and looked right back up at him. She wasn’t going to be physically intimidated by him.

‘You don’t know enough about my business to have an opinion.’

‘Maybe not, but I can see you’re an idealist. You don’t want to compromise your mission statement, even if it means losing your business.’ Minnie felt a little rush of pride, before realising he didn’t mean it as a compliment. ‘Why not deliver to a few corporates if it means staying afloat for your community gigs? Plus, you clearly aren’t employing the right people – the driver who loses the car, the chef who burns the pies. If you want to run a company effectively, you’ve got to pick the right people to work for you.’

Quinn turned and started pacing the office again. The irrational feeling that he was going to kiss her passed, along with any thought he might be about to show her his office sex dungeon with a secret access panel through the bookcase. Quinn picked up a pen from his desk and started clicking the end of it.

‘No doubt you would just cull anyone who had a bad day,’ Minnie said, folding her arms in front of her chest. ‘My team are like family. They’ve all had problems in life, that’s why we hired them. We want to give a chance to people who need one.’

‘Even if it means destroying your business?’

Minnie narrowed her eyes at him. Between Greg, her mother, and now Quinn, she was sick of people telling her how bad she was at running a business.

‘They aren’t the problem. Look, if it’s not going to work how I want it to work, maybe it’s not meant to be.’

‘Spoken like a true fatalist. You need to start taking responsibility for your life, Minnie. You lose your coat on New Year’s Eve because you’re careless, not jinxed. Your business is failing because you’re a bad manager who won’t take free advice.’ Quinn shook his head and thrust his hands into his pockets. Minnie felt the red prickling back up her neck, flushing her cheeks.

‘Well, maybe I don’t need life advice or handouts from some rich kid, mummy’s boy who has no idea what the real world looks like.’

Minnie felt a falling sensation in her stomach as soon as she’d said it. She didn’t know why she’d gone that far; it was too harsh. She felt like a cat being cornered, darting out a sharp claw in a pre-emptive strike. Quinn’s face changed, the glint in his eye disappeared and his jaw clenched, a muscle pulsing above the sharp line of his chin.