After a while, I walked quietly into her office. Her chair was turned away from the door, her feet propped against the windowsill, swinging slightly to the beat of music only she could hear.
The sight softened something in me. She looked… human. Vulnerable in a way she never allowed herself to be when facing me. I set a salad on her desk without a word and left.
Later, she slipped me a small note thanking me for it. I smiled when I read it, even though a dull ache still lingered beneath the surface. I was still offended—still hurt by what she seemed to think of me—but the note felt like a truce.
Over the next couple of days, as we worked together preparing the contract and presentation for the airline representatives, the discomfort between us slowly began to fade. We bounced ideas back and forth, refining details, challenging assumptions, while Amy tried frantically to keep up with us, typing at lightning speed. The more questions we asked, the deeper we researched, and by the time Friday approached, I felt prepared in a way I never had before. Not just informed—invested.
On Thursday afternoon,Ms. Catalina Brody and Ms. Jacqueline Fiorni checked in. The front desk emailed Nyah and me to confirm their arrival, along with the reminder that the meeting was scheduled for noon the next day in the conference room.Seeing their names in writing made my chest constrict. This was real now.
A half hour before the presentation, my father walked in.
“Nyah,” he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like Caleb to do this presentation solo. You’ll be there to support him, of course, but I want him to have the opportunity to show how far he’s come.” Then he turned to me. “I have faith that you can do this—for us, for you.”
He turned and left, and that’s when the panic set in.
We’d rehearsed this together. A dual presentation. A safety net. I started pacing, unfastening the top button of my shirt, my breath coming too fast. “I can’t do this,” I muttered. The pressure of knowing my father would be sitting there, watching me, judging me, made my stomach twist. “This is not going to go well.”
Nyah stepped in front of me and turned me toward her, gripping my arms firmly. She looked me straight in the eye. “All the information is in front of you. You are more than prepared. You are going to floor them with this presentation—I know it.”
Something in her certainty steadied me.
“I don’t want you thinking about this contract,” she continued softly. “Youare capable of much more than this. Your father is already proud of you. Remember that. And I want you to be proud of everything you’ve achieved over the past couple of weeks.”
The knot in my throat loosened.
As she walked to the door, she shot me a mischievous wink. “Just remember to breathe and blink. No one wants a creepy-looking guy staring at them through a PowerPoint.”
I smiled despite myself.
At noon,Nyah and my father entered the conference room with the two airline representatives. Introductions were made, and we exchanged small talk about their flight and room experience while refreshments were ordered.
“Well then, shall we get started?” Ms. Brody announced in her thick English accent.
I looked at Nyah, then at my father. He silently mouthed,Good luck, and gave me a reassuring smile. Trying to hold it together, I smiled back. I knew how high the stakes were.
I started with a brief history of the hotel, followed by the history of the city. “Vancouver is situated on the west coast of British Columbia,” I said, “and it is among Canada’s densest, most ethnically diverse cities.” I tried to keep my voice composed as I continued, explaining that it was also a popular filming location. I clicked the laptop to change the slide.
A picture of the airline appeared along with its company mission statement.
When I went to place the remote on the table, it slipped from my unsteady hands and fell. I fumbled as I picked it up. “I have, um… we have prepared a presentation for you today,” I said, “to show you the products and services that our hotel will provide for the employees of your airline while they are in our care.”
For a brief moment, thoughts of running out the door and not looking back flooded my mind. I licked my lips nervously, wondering if my father would be disappointed if I lost this deal. Would he say Simon would have done a better job? Would he compare us again?
I pushed those doubts away and continued. I talked about transportation of the crew by the Greyhound Shuttle service, supporting it by outlining the benefits the hotel would offer. “The crew can avail discounts upon presentation of their staff ID,” I said, “of 40% on food and alcohol and 25% for spa services.”
I glanced at Nyah, and the look she gave me boosted my confidence. She had faith in me. She knew how hard I had worked. I wanted to prove myself to her, and I was determined to nail this presentation.
My breathing steadied, a lightness settling in my chest, and I began to move with confidence as I explained the following slides of the PowerPoint.
Ms. Brody jotted down notes while Ms. Fiorni smiled at me, adjusting her wide hips in her seat, her brown eyes never leaving my face.
“Free access to Wi-Fi and the fitness centre is available to all the crew,” I continued. “And finally?—”
I handed them each a folder.
“Inside is the information I’ve just presented, along with an information sheet that would be provided to each crew member. Ladies, I would now like to ask you to follow me while I show you around the hotel to see the different types of rooms we have, the lounge area, and the fitness centre.” I led them to the door.
Nyah walked out with us before excusing herself, saying she would return shortly.
