‘Thanks.’ He swung his laptop bag back onto his shoulder, wishing he’d had more than five minutes’ notice that the meeting was to take place two floors above.

Anders was there before him, hooking up his computer to the wall screen. Presumably the AV was the reason he’d decided on a meeting room as there was no sign of them being joined by other staff members. Anders rocked a mixed retro look with a Seventies moustache but a Sixties short-back-and-sides. His wide-lapelled suits teamed with busy floral ties were a fashion mystery.

As soon as Nico set foot on the dark carpet Anders snapped, ‘We need to get this project going.’

The filter coffee machine was emitting an appetising fragrance and Nico headed for it. ‘There’s a lot to be said for scheduling it for January. What’s the client’s rush? Do you know?’

Anders pulled up a presentation on the screen. ‘Here’s what we sent them.’

‘Yes,’ Nico agreed drily, watching black coffee pouring from jug to cup. ‘I put it together. But at no time did we discuss turning around the promo material in four weeks – especially when I have annual leave for one of them.’

A reproving frown creased Anders’s forehead. ‘It’s an important new client, Nico.’

‘We don’t have contract approval. The acquisitions team hasn’t—’

Anders took his eyes from the screen and fixed Nico with a glare. It was a technique he practised often. It was meant to make people back down.

Nico was not easily intimidated. He strolled to a seat at an angle to his boss’s and returned a steady gaze. ‘Is there a reason for the rush?’

‘Is there a reason for us to underperform?’ Anders returned coldly.

‘Rushing when we don’t need to might lead to our underperforming.’ Irritation tightened Nico’s shoulders. Anders’s main leadership weakness was entrenching himself and refusing to budge. You could term it having the courage of his convictions or you could call it blind stubbornness. Sometimes it made his team step up; sometimes it made them flap about frantically and, to use his word, underperform.

Anders steepled his fingers and narrowed his eyes. ‘The client and I have shaken hands on these dates.’

Nico felt his jaw drop. ‘You’ve agreed an unrealistic delivery with my client on my project?’ He was aware he wasn’t speaking in the respectful manner Anders considered his due but the prospect of achieving such a target loomed over his head like an anvil with ‘stress’ painted on it. Anders clumsily sticking his fingers into Nico’s carefully tended pies was disrespectful.

‘The wrong’ wasn’t a place Anders occupied comfortably and his frown grew darker. ‘We met socially. Happenstance. You have a problem with it?’