Nicole's POV
I sat at the head of the conference table, my fingers lightly tapping against the polished surface. The room was quiet, save for the sound of Sera's voice confidently delivering the final points of her presentation. I studied her closely, eyes narrowing as I analyzed every gesture, every word.
Sera Williams was an enigma. When she first started, I had written her off as just another starry-eyed intern. A naive student who thought she could conquer the business world with a smile and a bit of determination. But watching her now, I couldn't deny she had something I hadn't anticipated—potential.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, keeping my expression neutral. She was handling the client's questions with a level of poise I didn't expect, and more importantly, she wasn't just regurgitating facts. She was owning the room in a way I hadn't seen from someone so inexperienced.
"Miss Williams, your proposal is thorough," the client, Mr. Reynolds, spoke up, leaning forward. "But what makes you think this new strategy will work when the previous ones failed?"
I glanced at Sera, expecting her to falter. This was where most interns, even some seasoned employees, would start to crumble. The pressure was on.
But she didn't flinch.
"With all due respect, Mr. Reynolds," Sera began, her voice steady, "The previous strategies failed because they were reactive, not proactive. What I'm proposing is a shift in approach—a system that anticipates potential problems before they arise, instead of scrambling to fix them afterward. This isn't just a change in tactics; it's a change in mindset."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. She wasn't wrong. It was exactly the kind of thinking I wanted to instill in my team, but few had the foresight to grasp it.
Mr. Reynolds seemed impressed, though his face was as hard to read as mine. "It's a bold strategy, Miss Williams."
Sera smiled, though not too much. "Sometimes boldness is necessary for progress."
The meeting wrapped up soon after that, and the clients left the room with promises to consider the proposal. I remained seated, watching Sera as she gathered her materials, her shoulders visibly relaxing once the tension eased from the air.
"You didn't crash and burn," I said, my tone neutral.
She looked up, meeting my gaze with those big, determined eyes of hers. "I told you I could handle it."
I stood, straightening my jacket. "You did better than expected. But don't let it go to your head. There's a long way between handling one meeting and being able to survive in this company."
"I'm not expecting any shortcuts," she replied, her voice still steady. "I'm willing to work hard for every opportunity."
I liked that answer. But I wasn't about to let her know that. "Good. You'll need that attitude."
I walked past her, expecting the conversation to end there, but something made me pause at the doorway. Maybe it was the way she had held her own today, or maybe it was the fact that she had exceeded my low expectations. I glanced over my shoulder.
"You've earned my attention, Sera," I said, surprising even myself with the admission. "Don't waste it."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. "I won't."
I nodded, more to myself than to her, before leaving the conference room. As I made my way down the hall to my office, I couldn't shake the feeling that this intern, this university student with no business experience, had more potential than I'd initially given her credit for.
But potential was dangerous. It gave people hope, and hope, in this world, often led to disappointment. I'd seen it time and again—people with dreams and ambitions who couldn't handle the pressure when reality hit.
Sera was no different. She had shown some promise today, but this was only one meeting. I'd seen plenty of employees start strong, only to crumble when faced with the relentless demands of Calvin Enterprise. I wasn't about to let one good performance change my view of her just yet.
The Next Challenge
The next few days were busier than usual, with several high-profile clients needing attention. I had little time to think about Sera, though she crossed my mind occasionally. Each time, I dismissed the thought. She was just an intern.
Until one afternoon, when I walked past the break room and heard a familiar voice.
"I just don't get why he doesn't trust me with more responsibility," Sera's voice floated through the door. I paused, my hand stilling on the doorknob. "I know I'm new, but I'm not incompetent. If he would just give me a chance—"
I stepped into the room, cutting her off mid-sentence. Her eyes widened when she saw me, her face flushing with embarrassment. The other intern she was speaking to quickly made herself scarce, leaving Sera standing awkwardly by the counter, holding a half-empty cup of coffee.
"Talking about me behind my back, Miss Williams?" I asked, keeping my tone even.
Sera straightened, clearly trying to regain her composure. "It wasn't like that. I was just… frustrated."
"Frustrated that you're not being handed more projects?" I walked further into the room, crossing my arms. "You've been here a few weeks. What makes you think you've earned that?"
She met my gaze, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "I've worked hard, and I've proven I can handle more than just filing reports and fetching coffee."
I chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "You think one successful presentation entitles you to more responsibility? You've barely scratched the surface, Sera. There's a difference between doing well once and being consistent under pressure."
Her jaw tightened, but she didn't back down. "How am I supposed to prove myself if I'm not given the chance to show what I can do?"
Her words were bold, but she had a point. I hated to admit it, but she had a fire in her, a drive that reminded me of myself when I first started. Still, I wasn't about to make it easy for her.
"Fine," I said, surprising her. "You want more responsibility? I have a project that needs attention. It's tedious, time-consuming, and requires absolute precision. If you can handle that without any mistakes, we'll talk about giving you more meaningful work."
Her eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and determination. "I'll do it."
I nodded curtly. "We'll see."
The Project
The project I assigned her was a grueling one—sorting through old contracts and creating a comprehensive report on all client agreements over the past decade. It was mind-numbing work, but it required a meticulous eye for detail. One mistake, one overlooked clause, could mean costly legal trouble for the company.
I didn't expect her to get through it without errors. I was testing her, not only to see if she could handle the workload but also to see if she had the patience and dedication required for the long game. Anyone could handle a flashy presentation, but real business success was about the less glamorous, behind-the-scenes work.
Days passed, and I kept an eye on her progress. I noticed her in the break room less frequently, and she stayed late more often than not. Each time I passed her desk, she was hunched over a pile of documents, completely absorbed in her task.
She didn't complain, didn't ask for help. She just worked.
Part of me was impressed. Another part of me was waiting for her to crack.
Then one morning, just as I was heading to a meeting, Sera appeared at my office door, holding a thick folder.
"The report's finished," she said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of exhaustion.
I glanced at the clock. She was early. "You're done?"
"Yes. I double-checked everything." She handed me the folder, her fingers brushing against mine briefly before she pulled her hand back. "I know it wasn't the most exciting project, but it's thorough."
I opened the folder, skimming through the neatly organized sections. It was clean, detailed, and—at first glance—error-free. I had expected her to struggle, to miss something crucial, but she hadn't.
I looked up at her, and for the first time, I didn't see the naïve intern I had pegged her as. She had completed a project most seasoned employees would have groaned at, and she hadn't complained once.
"Well done," I said, closing the folder.
Sera blinked, as if she hadn't expected the compliment. "Thank you."
I nodded, my mind already shifting to the next move. "You've proven you can handle responsibility. I'll be assigning you to a more significant project. But know this, Sera—one mistake, and you're back to filing papers. Understood?"
She nodded, her expression determined. "Understood."
As she left my office, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the closed door. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something about her that was different. She wasn't just another intern, and I couldn't ignore the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, she could be more than I had initially thought.
But I wouldn't make it easy for her.
I had learned long ago that trust was earned through consistency and persistence. Sera had potential, but potential was fragile. One misstep, and it could all come crashing down.