DJ was flexible about his working hours, sometimes not coming in until after ten but then staying late into the evening. Not a morning person, he often said, but damn good after midday. Which was true. His expression, when she walked into the office, was grim, and she knew straight away that it was because of her. He nodded at her before she’d even put her takeaway coffee on her desk and told her that he wanted to see her in the conference room straight away. The conference room wasn’t anything of the sort. It was just a small office off the open-plan area, with a table and six chairs around it. Shimmy had told her it was where they had strategy meetings, but since Sheridan had started work there had never been a strategy meeting. There hadn’t been formal meetings of any sort, just chats around DJ’s desk. She sat on one of the high-backed chairs. The table, she noticed, was marked by the rings of hot cups that had been placed directly on to the polished wood. There had been a table just like it at the City Scope.
