Chapter Eighteen: The Grand Presentation

Evelyn's POV 

Leonard followed closely behind me as I walked up the grand staircase toward the building’s entrance. The silence between us had continued from the car and grew heavy with every step we stop. My curiosity grew too with lots of questions on my mind. I glanced over my shoulder, unable to hold back my questions any longer.

“How did we get here? This place—” I gestured toward the expansive company estate that loomed before us. “The meeting ground? How?”

Leonard smirked faintly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’ll explain later. For now, you should focus on your presentation.”

“You can't dodge these questions forever, you know,”

“Well, I best enjoy it for as long as I can.”

I narrowed my eyes at his cryptic response but decided not to push further. Time wasn’t on my side. Nodding in reluctant agreement, I quickened my pace and spotted my father waiting near the doors. The sight of him brought me great relief, and I couldn’t stop myself from rushing forward to embrace him.

“You’re okay,” I whispered, the warmth of his arms grounding me.

“Of course I am,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “You ready for this?”

“I think so,” I said, my voice uncertain.

“You’ll do great.” He squeezed my shoulder before leading the way inside, with Leonard trailing silently behind us.

The air shifted as we entered the building, like a magical change of scenery. It was like my first day at high school; the fear, the thrill, the anticipation. 

“Welcome,” I heard many of the staff members greet as we walked past. 

The receptionist directed us to the conference room, where the company’s board members were already seated. The moment we walked in, all heads turned, and one by one, they rose to acknowledge our arrival.

The room buzzed with murmurs of polite greetings and nods of respect as we made our way to the designated seats. I glanced at the long mahogany table, the polished surface reflecting the overhead lights. Each seat was occupied by impeccably dressed executives, their eyes sharp and assessing. Most of the men on the table were elderly like my father, and as expected with age, their experience had grown. 

The meeting began with pleasantries and introductions before diving into the day’s agendas. Topic after topic was discussed, from financial forecasts to marketing strategies. My stomach churned with every passing moment. It was more because of the different terminologies they used that I wasn't exactly used to. But a smaller reason was the fear of my presentation time drawing nigh. 

Finally, the chairman announced, “And now, we’ll hear from Evelyn Wyatt, the new Business Development Manager for the Southern region. She’ll be presenting her proposed strategies for the upcoming quarter.”

All eyes shifted to me. I took a deep breath, gripping the water bottle I had carried with me. My father gave me an encouraging nod, his smile warm, showing his great support. 

I rose from my seat, smoothing down my skirt and forcing a polite smile. “Good morning, everyone,” I began, my voice faltering slightly. “I’d like to start by apologizing for the delay in getting here. I appreciate your patience.”

I connected my laptop to the projector, my hands trembling slightly as I adjusted the settings. My slides appeared on the screen behind me, their colorful graphs and bullet points staring back at me. I needed to explain all of these to the basic understanding of these men. No, they weren't complex theories, but I had to sell the idea still. 

Well, I was here already and I needed to start. I began speaking and my nerves betrayed me instantly. I stumbled over my words, hesitating and correcting myself repeatedly. A faint wave of murmurs rippled through the room, the low hum of side conversations seeping into my consciousness. I was embarrassing myself. It was obvious in their eyes and body language. 

It was impossible to ignore the disapproving glances exchanged between some of the board members. The effect of their scrutiny pressed down on me, and my confidence began to waver. My throat felt dry despite the water I had sipped earlier.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my father smiling, nodding slightly as if to say, keep going, baby girl. But his encouragement wasn’t enough to drown out the growing sense of inadequacy inside of me. 

I paused, searching for strength, for something—anything—that could help me push through. My gaze wandered toward the glass walls of the conference room, and that’s when I saw him.

Leonard stood outside, his posture relaxed, his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching me intently, and when our eyes met, he smiled. Raising his hand, he gave me a small thumbs-up and mouthed the words, “Breathe. You’ve got this.”

It was all I needed and something shifted within me. Whether it was pride, determination, or the sheer refusal to let Leonard see me fail, I didn’t know. What I did know was that his simple gesture reignited a spark of confidence I thought I’d lost.

I straightened my posture, took another sip of water, and smiled at the room. “Thank you for your patience,” I said, my voice steadier this time. “Let’s dive into the key points.”

I turned to my slides and I launched into the presentation, moving through them with clear ideas on what I wanted to buttress. I outlined my strategies with confidence, using data and visuals to back up my points. My words flowed naturally now, and the room grew quiet as the murmurs faded.

The board members leaned forward, their interest piqued as I walked them through the complex aspects of my plan. Questions that once loomed over my mind were now met with clear, thoughtful answers.

I ended the presentation with a concise summary and stepped back, the room falling silent for a brief moment before breaking into applause. Relief washed over me, and I allowed myself a small smile.

I turned to glance at the glass walls, hoping to catch Leonard’s expression. But he was gone.