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chocolate bar stuffed in his mouth, a car passed him. Waiting for the bus, which was late, he saw the same black BMW circle three more times around the block. A private taxi? It didn't have license plates for carrying passengers. Each time it drew close to the kerb, it slowed and crawled in the traffic, annoying the vehicle tailgating it. A car horn sounded, and the BMW sped away, screeching its tyres and swerving between the parked cars. The old lady next to Mark in the queue complained about reckless drivers and the need for speed bumps. Mark agreed.

Mark mentioned the incident to Julianna that morning in his office. She was collating the spreadsheets on the interim report for Haynes' latest acquisition.

She paused, her fingers curling around a paper clip. ‘Seen it before?’ she asked sharply. ‘The car?’

‘I don't know. Why would I remember one car?’

‘Private number plate?’ Bent over the table with her eyes down, she stiffened.

‘It had four doors and dark windows, okay, that's the sum total of what I remember. I was agreeing about the speed bumps. Somebody got knocked over a week ago.’

‘Where?’ The paper clip flew across the table.

The punch bag had failed her that morning. ‘Outside the shop. What's with the third degree?’

She shrugged and retrieved the paper clip. ‘Just that you should be careful, that's all.’

He touched the back of her hand, leaned over and kissed her cheek in a rare show of affection. ‘You're very sweet. But I'm a big boy and can take care of myself when it comes to crossing the road.’ At work, they were strictly professional and maintained a cool distance from each other. But that approach would become harder once his project was finished; she would be assigned to something else, which was probably for the best.

Her cheeks were pink. The poor paper clip was twisted out of shape. ‘I hope so,’ she murmured.

‘Let's review where we're up to,’ he said.

‘To sum up: small subsidiary owned by larger company who look more profitable than they should. We could spend time digging up further issues but to my mind this acquisition looks rocky.’

He agreed. ‘I’m not convinced that their cash flow projections are accurate. We need more time to determine what’s going on.’

‘You suspect fraud, don’t you? Fiduciary fraud. They’re making false tax returns. Ring Neil.’ Neil, the chief negotiator, was in charge of the project.

Neil had been quick with his decision: the acquisition shouldn’t go ahead. He contacted Diana, Jackson's PA for an appointment. Later that day, five of them, including Mark, but not Julianna, trooped up to the top floor and presented themselves at Diana’s desk.

‘You’ll have to wait,’ she said, tapping her watch. ‘He hasn’t finished the last meeting. You’re early anyway.’

‘Better to be on time, isn’t it?’ Neil said. The meeting had been arranged at short notice. Neil hadn’t expected to be seen so quickly.

‘Probably, given the mood he is in. Definitely not a day for bringing him bad news.’

Neil went slightly pale. ‘We don’t exactly have good news. Any reason why he’s being irritable?’

Another PA perked up from his desk behind Diane's. ‘Obvious. Something this long.’ He indicated a short distance between his hands, ‘And she screams a lot in the night.’

‘Ah, not his wife I take it,’ Neil said, cheekily. Mark smirked.

‘Doesn’t he have two houses?’ asked Paolo, an intern with freckles and a tight-fitting suit that wouldn't impress Jackson. ‘Can’t he simply sleep at the other one?’

‘Some father you’ll make,’ Diana muttered. ‘Go and wait over there.’ She waved them away to the seating area of the lobby.

Mark settled himself next to Neil on the sofa.

‘I’ve never been up here before,’ said Darren, Neil's protégé, a likeable man with a goatee beard and a crooked nose. Mark found it hard not to look at his nose.

‘That’s what happens when you’re promoted,’ said Neil. ‘You get to find out if you have a head for heights.’

‘I’ve never met him either,’ said Darren, ‘in the flesh.’

‘Do you think you’re going to become his friend or something?’ Neil rolled his eyes. Mark kept his head down.

Darren fidgeted. Paolo preened his hair back and Duncan, who hadn’t said a word, was reading through the documents, internalising everything as if he was about to be tested on his numbers. All of them, barring Mark, were lawyers and contract specialists. They weren’t surprised that Neil was recommending pulling the plug on the deal.

‘Oi, you’re wanted.’ Diana jerked her head toward the double doors.

Mr Haynes was by the window, looking down at the street. The sun, shining through the tinted glass, was low in the sky. He drew the blinds back across. He was without a jacket or tie, and he wore a wireless headset. He removed it, sat at the head of the table and drummed his fingers as he waited for them to join him.

Neil adjusted his tie before speaking. ‘Mr Haynes, we’ve reviewed everything, especially Mark’s input and we can’t recommend going ahead with this acquisition. Too many discrepancies in several areas of operations.’ Neil handed over the summary sheet he had compiled with Mark’s help.

There was a pause while Jackson ran his finger down the bullet points. ‘Okay. I agree, will end the due diligence and call off our interest. I don’t want to waste any further time on this.’

There was a collective sigh of relief around the table.

Time meant money in Jackson’s world. He spent a few minutes running through their findings. Darren continued to fidget, and Paolo had developed a stutter. Mark wanted to laugh. Jackson wasn't that intimidating, not when you knew him, but then Mark had had a privileged start at the company. He crossed his legs and settled back in his seat.

‘You don’t agree, Mark?’ Jackson said sharply, his eyebrows bunched together

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