Monday afternoon, back downtown

The Monday afternoon "Heads' Huddle" in Allegra's office was different from the Friday afternoon "Weekly Executive Meeting" in only one discernible way... it happened on Mondays. Well, and okay, it had a more informal name. But there remained widespread confusion amongst the executives about how these meetings were any different and why just the one meeting might not be enough.

Denton Horowitz, because he was A) a creative technologist who couldn't understand why any meeting would happen off-Slack when that was a perfectly viable remote meeting technology and, B) a serious pedant when it came to detail and order, had the most trouble with it and simply couldn't let either the Monday or the Friday meeting begin without, yet again, questioning the need for its existence.

"As I explained on Friday, Denton," Allegra stopped him, "Monday is a huddle, whereas Friday is a meeting. For one thing, a huddle is more casual. Really, we should be standing and just having a chat."

Everyone looked around. They were all seated.

Samara Lee looked up from the spreadsheets she'd had her assistant print out just in case anyone wanted to review numbers (which they never did) and said, "Suit yourselves, but I'm not standing. My Jimmy Choos and I prefer to sit."

Denton, who was eager to make sense of the meeting and therefore wanted to follow the rules, stood and removed his chair.

Allegra sighed because she supposed now that she'd said it and Denton had taken her at her word, she would also have to stand.

She threw her shoes under her desk and stood in her stocking feet, which must be what women in start-ups did. She understood that part of engineering a start-up culture was to ensure there was lots of standing around (standing desks, stand-up meetings, foosball tables, etc.), but standing around didn't jive well with women's footwear. Then again, there also seemed to be lots of lying down opportunities (sleep pods, nap rooms, quiet zones with massage chairs), and that was definitely not the aspect of start-up culture she wanted to engineer here.

"Okay, let's begin with a roundtable," she suggested, curling her toes like a gymnast about to launch at the bars. "What's everybody up to this week?"

Just then, Niall walked in with a storm-warning already flashing across his face. Allegra checked her watch.

"Niall, you're 3 minutes late. It's not acceptable to waste your peers' time in this manner."

He looked her way with half-slit eyes and said evenly, "I'm having to take the elevator from the third bloody floor now, as you well know."

"Maybe you should take the stairs in future. Would do you some good, anyway," she replied brightly, immune to his moods. "As you're here now, why don't you kick us off, Niall? What's new in the art department?"

Noting that Denton and Allegra were both standing around like lunatics while Fraser and Samara sat, Niall pulled Denton's old chair out of the corner and sat down heavily.

"Well, I'll tell you. There's a bit of mystery down there at the minute. If you recall, thanks to the wunderkind over there"-- Niall indicated Denton -- "and his uber-diaper delivery idea, we had no money left over to produce any actual artwork."

Samara consulted her spreadsheets.

"That's correct. The research went way over budget, then the partnership dollars to secure Uber ate the rest. Unfortunate planning by Accounts," she confirmed, glancing at Fraser.

Niall nodded.

"Then it is inexplicable to me that the design work did somehow get done. I've just seen it out on the street. A great stinking heap of it plastered all over the streetcar stops up and down King Street."

Denton, who couldn't help himself, interjected, "King Street is lateral, actually, Niall. It runs East-West, not North-South. So the work wouldn't be 'up and down' King Street. More accurately, you'll have seen it 'all across' King Street."

The Irishman looked at Denton like he was about to explode, face-first.

"Not my fucking point, Horowitz!" He took a breath and evened his voice out again. "My question is -- who in the hell did that design work? I know it wasn't one of my team because we didn't have the money to do it, and I wouldn't have allowed them to do it if our costs weren't going to be covered. Because we are NOT A FUCKING CHARITY HOUSE."

Just as Niall's anger and insinuations were peaking, Berry entered the room. He was dragging an unwilling Henry by the collar. If you've ever tried it, you'll know it can be exceedingly difficult to move an English Bulldog anywhere it doesn't particularly want to go.

"Sorry, everyone, sorry," started Berry. "I know you wanted him to come, Allegra. It took us some time to come down the hall."

"Oh! That's no problem, Bertrand," purred Allegra. "No problem at all. We're just glad you're here. Everyone... meet Henry, our new office dog! Isn't he just gorgeous?"

Henry's rheumy eyes surveyed "everyone" skeptically. His nose twitched in Allegra's direction, and he lumbered off to lie down near her feet.

"Isn't this wonderful? A dog at our huddle. We're really getting the hang of this modern workplace thing now!" She rubbed her hands excitedly.

Returning her attention to the meeting, she added, "Okay, who knows anything about Niall's mystery? Fraser, the diaper account is under you. Can you explain the appearance of work in the market that wasn't produced by us?"

"Ahm..." said Fraser, inexplicably patting his suit jacket pocket as though the answer might be hiding in there. "Right. Sorry. Yes. Excellent question."

Niall looked at Fraser. Allegra looked at Fraser. Berry looked very carefully at his cuticles.

"I suppose a freelancer must have been used. Perhaps Otto found someone who would take the work on spec? Or more cheaply than our... internal, um... team?"

"There is no charge here against the budget for freelancers either," offered Samara. "Must have been on spec."

Niall stood, beyond furious now -- because this is the problem, isn't it, when you start hot and you have nowhere to go but absolutely insane -- grabbed his chair and aggressively slammed it against the floor.

Henry took the chair slamming for the sign of mental instability it was and growled darkly at Niall from behind Allegra's leg.

"I'll look into it," promised Fraser weakly. "It's bound to be something of nothing. A misunderstanding. Maybe it was billed to another account accidentally?"

Samara jerked her head around, aghast. "It certainly was not! Niall, are you sure you didn't just allocate some of the Atrabax funds I recently released to your department?"

"Of course, I'm sure," he blustered, looking less than sure.

"Maybe you could check that before you throw accusations around," came Samara's retort.

Fraser was making furious notes in his notebook, presumably reminding himself to review the diaper account. Berry made a mental note to himself to give Otto a heads up.

"Okay, let's move on. The next item on the agenda..."

"I don't mean to quibble," Denton interrupted. "But if huddles are casual standing chats, do they have agendas?"

"I'm not speaking literally, Denton. Just figuratively. So, figuratively, who would like to go next? Berry? Why don't you give us an update on our Pharma accounts?"

Niall sat back down, but not before muttering, "There's only one pharma account. Let's not act like he has an empire, here."

Everyone ignored Niall (except Henry, who kept a close eye on him) and continued with the meeting.

"Sure," Berry started. "Good news is that the client loved the ideas we originally presented in the pitch, so our job now is to refine those ideas into materials. They've signed off on transit ads, Facebook ads, a couple of magazine spots and drug store shelf toppers."

"Marvellous," cheered Allegra.

"I'm pushing them to consider expanding the idea from ads only to something event-based. Haven't decided yet what that might be -- thought maybe I could get your help on that, Denton? Just please, not Uber. I don't think pharma laws are going to allow for pain relief delivery."

Denton nodded.

"Well, this is fantastic," cooed Allegra again. "I'm really so proud of the... AH!" she stopped suddenly, lifting her foot into the air. She'd stepped into the large puddle of urine that had appeared on the floor behind her.

"Henry!" cried Berry. "Sorry, everyone! I assumed he was housebroken."