Prague, Czech RepublicMarch 13
“So, why me, Mr. Sýkora?” Martin Stone stretched out comfortably in the armchair in the office of the Prague lobbying and public relations agency firm and decided that he had to get a coffee machine just like the one that had produced the miracle he was holding in his hand.
“Michal to you, Martin … Would you excuse me for one second? I have this urgent matter, I’ll be right back. Would you be so kind and wait a short while in the reception …”
Now that’s what I call an elegant way to push someone out the door, Martin thought, peeved. He was so angry at himself for letting this guy push him around that he couldn’t produce a response, and merely obediently retreated back to the reception area. He’d come five minutes early, granted, but Jelly-Head (as he’d pri
