Page 21 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

He spun his laptop around to face me. I pressed my own closed and moved it aside.

I scanned through the few hundred words he’d written so far. There was some nice stuff in there, but I could see the key issue with it immediately.

‘Okay, so you need to start with this anecdote – or something like it – and then go into the rest of the speech from there.’

I pointed to a paragraph buried in the middle of the prose. Ethan read the section I was referring to and squinted quizzically.

‘You think so? I thought I had to begin with all the formal stuff?’

‘Nah, you can come onto those bits as the speech progresses. But you need to start off with something funny that will get people to sit up and listen. Make them connect with you so they pay attention to everything else you say. The best way to do that is to start telling a story. And this story about the time your brother’ – I re-familiarised myself with the anecdote – ‘mistook your boss for your girlfriend… is a great way to do that.’

‘Huh. Okay, thanks! I’ll give that a go.’

Ethan’s attention returned to his screen and I took a slurp of coffee. This conversation had really… conversed. And, much to my surprise, I didn’t want it to stop doing so quite yet. I took his choice not to re-don his headphones as permission to keep talking.

‘He really mistook your boss for your girlfriend?’

‘Yeah, it was the most awkward thing. Not least because we were out with clients who he also mistook for her parents. And I was actually secretly dating another colleague that my boss didn’t know about yet.’

‘Yikes.’

‘“Yikes” is precisely the correct word. So, you’re British, then?’

‘Very much so.’

‘You live over here?’

‘No, just visiting.’

‘With friends?’

No, with my bonkers mum and equally bonkers sister, who are no doubt currently hatching a plan to abseil down the Statue of Liberty or something of that nature.

‘Just me.’

I figured the truth was far too complicated for this unexpected small-talk situation.

‘Ah, a solo trip.’

I removed a loose flake of pastry from my croissant and popped it in my mouth. ‘Yep.’

‘So how come you’re here alone?’ he asked, closing his laptop and resting his chin on his hands, seemingly happy to forget about his speech for the time being.

I shrugged, trying hard to do so nonchalantly, as if being in New York City by myself was a regular occurrence as opposed to a one-off trip made under duress.

‘I can work from anywhere, and I’ve been meaning to visit in December for a while.’

At least that part was true.

‘It’s a great time of year to be here, that’s for sure.’ He glanced at his watch, exhaled loudly through his nose and downed the remainder of his coffee. ‘Okay, as much as I wish I, uh, didn’t have to, I’ve gotta head to work. It was really great meeting you, Flora.’

‘You, too. And good luck with that speech. The main advice I always give to clients is to be yourself. People can tell when you’re being inauthentic.’

He chuckled as he packed his things away. ‘If you knew me, you probably wouldn’t suggest that.’

‘Well, from what I’ve seen, I don’t regret my choice of words.’

Bold, Flora!