Free Fire in the Firefly by Scott Gardiner

ensure a smooth transition,” explains the CEO, shepherding him on to the next introduction. Several times throughout the meeting Roebuck tries catching Greenwood’s eye, but Greenwood isn’t playing.
    It’s not until noon that he manages his getaway. He has said everything he needs to say; there’s a mountain of material still to go through, but for now the group is scheduled to break for lunch. Roebuck scrambles to his feet, BlackBerry in hand. “Unfortunately, something has come up. But I know that, with Daniel, I am leaving you in capable hands.” He can’t help sneaking a final peek at Zhanna, who gazes back with equal innocence, then delivers the morning’s second surprise. “Would you mind if I asked for a lift? I’m taking the afternoon off too.”
    â€œI’m not taking the afternoon off!”
    â€œOf course you’re not. You have an agency to run. But I am. Can I hitch a ride?”
    Generally speaking, these kick-off meetings are where the partnership between agency and client finally gets rolling. The analogy, for Roebuck, is like what happens once you’ve gone to bed together for the first time with a new lover. All that best behaviour leading up to consummation is behind you now—the deed is done—and true personalities are free to emerge. He tells the juniors that from this point forward it’s all about the pulse of the relationship itself. It’s now that clients reveal their business plans; this is when you see each other truly naked; when budgets are tabled and conflicts start to show. Maybe it’s more like a marriage, he says. You’ve solemnized your vows; the ceremony’s over. Now it’s time to sort out who pays which bills.
    He has also reminded the creative team that they’ll need to brace themselves because, odds are, all that lovely work they’ve done so far is headed for the toilet. “In the courting stages, clients love you when you’re bold and daring. But once the contract is signed, they’ll expect you to settle down and see things exactly the way they do.”
    He and Greenwood have been planning for eventualities. Daniel’s been in the business long enough to know the drill, still Roebuck has been surprised—pleasantly surprised—to see how firmly Greenwood is standing up, how determined he’s become to make this campaign fly. Fire in the belly and all. That’s the other reason he’s decided to take an early leave and let this afternoon be the Greenwood Show. Later, if necessary, he can play the seasoned veteran, reigning in that youthful energy. But for now his gut is telling him that it’s Greenwood who should be pushing things along.
    â€œAny chance they’ll keep the creative?” he asks, buckling up.
    Zhanna all but snorts. “Are you kidding? It’s a condom company. Daniel’s in for major disappointment.”
    Roebuck sighs. They’ve left the parking lot and turned on to the service road that links Artemis to the highway, where they are waiting for the light.
    â€œ You really believe that stuff, though, don’t you?”
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œYour trademark shtick: ‘Only women count.’ Daniel thinks you really do believe it. He says that with you it’s more than just a posture.”
    â€œAs postures go, it’s one you can take to the bank.”
    â€œHe says he’s never known anyone who tries so hard to think like a woman.”
    The light turns green; Roebuck accelerates toward the ramp. He doesn’t know quite how to answer this. He’s not sure, either, if he’s enjoying having Greenwood’s pillow talk served up secondhand. “I don’t know if it’s so much thinking like women as it is thinking about them. But now it’s my turn. I have a question for you.”
    â€œAll right.” Her knees are pressed against the gearshift. She has turned as much as