Tricks clients play in pitches 1.

The comfy sofa trick

Some clients use tricks to test you in pitches.

I remember going along to one particularly wily client. We had arrived early and set up — checked the projector (the client did not have a screen in the meeting room); made sure the laptop with the proposal PowerPoint was linked correctly; put out the leave-behinds. We had even worked out where we would sit and where the client would go. The choreography was considered. We were ready.

We’d been working on this presentation for ages. The thinking was good. The messaging clear. The visuals elegant and persuasive. I couldn’t wait to start. It was one of those great moments when you feel not just prepared, but genuinely excited to share your ideas.

The client walked in, looked around, and said: “I’ve never liked this room. It feels so unfriendly. Come on through to my office, it’s much better. Just leave your things here.”

So we did. And in doing so, left everything behind — laptops, slides, leave-behinds, the lot.

In his office we were ushered onto big, squashy sofas and chairs; the kind you sink into so far it feels as if you are being gently swallowed. His PA entered and gave us each a cup of tea and a plate with some biscuits, with all the ceremonial calm of a vicar handing out hymn books.

Thus trapped — plate in one hand, cup in the other, knees slightly too high — the client smiled and brightly said: “Right, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

It was, I realised, a clever trick. A quiet stress test. It separates those who really know their stuff from those who rely on the presentation, like a crutch. The latter is far too common, in my experience — the people who know the story only when it appears in front of them on a slide. Strip that away and all that remains is uncertainty and waffle.

What to do about it? Well, being at the top of your game is a good start. And good, old-fashioned rehearsals (plural) help enormously. Not just running through the slides — that’s the easy bit — but really drilling what you would say if everything disappeared. No laptop. No notes. No script.

Rehearsing not just what you want to say, but what you think the client is likely to ask, and what you hope the client doesn’t ask — for instance, “Do you have a New York office?” when your only US presence is in LA. Or “Tell me about your experience in fintech” when your deck leans heavily on FMCG. These are the moments that make or break your credibility. Not because the answer needs to be perfect — but because the way you handle the question tells the client everything they need to know about whether they can trust you in the room with their CEO.

If you’re well-prepared, this type of situation can actually be energising. The adrenaline kicks in. Your mind sharpens. You become more present, more connected. And you stand out — especially against less-prepared competitors who visibly deflate the moment the tech doesn’t work or the script goes out the window.

So the next time a client invites you to sink into the sofa, smile. It’s not a trap — it’s an opportunity. If you’ve done the hard work, there’s nothing more comfortable than knowing you’re ready — slides or no slides.

After all, great pitches aren’t about the props you use, or how slick the deck is. They’re about what you know, how you think, and whether you can stay sharp — even with one hand on a biscuit and the other on a teacup.