Page 12 of Another Lucky Number (Lucky Number #2)
Chapter Eleven
O n Friday morning, I’m greeted by another white envelope under my door, only this time I know what’s inside. My cautious optimism from my conversation with Cat and Amber the previous night scarpers the second I lay eyes on it.
Resisting the temptation to go back to bed and pretend this whole job interview thing isn’t happening, I pick it up, open the patio doors, and step out onto my balcony terrace in the hope that my amazing tropical surroundings will lessen the impact of whatever torturous process I’m about to find inside it.
However, I’m so sick with nerves, I barely register the pleasant breeze, sparkling sea, and clear blue horizon.
I want the job – more than anything – but I’ve never been one of those people who sails through interviews without breaking a sweat.
I’m more of a kitchen roll wedged in my armpits while popping (homeopathic) anxiety pills like they’re Smarties kind of girl.
After a few deep breaths, I plonk myself down at the table, rip open the envelope and extract the documents inside. There’s not much there: just three printed sheets of paper, which I hope is a good sign .
Unfolding them, I start to read. The first page contains the job description.
It’s brief, but succinct. The job title – Head of Growth and Acquisition – simultaneously fills me with terror and fervour.
It’s a big step up and even just imagining having that title is petrifying.
The thought that, if successful, I’d be exposed for the imposter that I might well be is wholly nauseating.
But at the same time, another part of me is bubbling with determination, ambition and a feeling that this is something I’ve always been capable of achieving in the right workplace with a decent boss.
This inner conflict, as unpleasant as it is, further fuels my belief that I have to go for this. I need to push past the uncertainty and self-doubt and prove to myself that I am worthy.
I quickly read through the description of the role, heartened by the presence of familiar language.
There’s nothing particularly alien there.
All I need to do is believe in myself and win a chance to put what’s there into practice.
Setting the job profile aside, I then scan the selection process details.
The interview themes are based around the company values, which I’m pleased to note are an inspiring and energising read: making me want to grab a pen and get started, rather than reach for the TV remote.
However, my optimism is short-lived, because on turning my attention to the third page, my eyes zoom in on a single – terrifying – word in the text: ‘presentation’.
Fuck . Public speaking is an area I need to improve in, and I’d hoped to have some time to do so ahead of actively seeking my next job. Reading through the details, the words swim in front of my eyes.
The second part of the assessment is a twenty-minute presentation on your plan for your first ninety days in the role, followed by a question-and- answer session.
Beads of sweat appear on my forehead as I continue to read. Then comes the knockout punch.
People are the beating heart of our business and we like to include them in our decisions where possible.
As such, we will be inviting a carefully selected group of resort staff and regular hotel guests with a keen interest in our company to attend your presentation and provide feedback on your performance.
Oh my god . A presentation to an interview panel is bad enough. But to a whole crowd, including the resort’s most valued clientele? The pressure isn’t just on, it’s about to blow – and if I’m not careful I might just lose my head in the process.
Massaging my temples, I take some slow deep breaths to calm myself.
I need to stay focused and take things one step at a time.
The interview shouldn’t be too bad, provided I’m well prepared and can keep a lid on my nerves.
The presentation topic is also not too scary.
I know my stuff and have worked with senior leaders and their plans.
Plus, the internet is a job seeker’s best friend.
But the other stuff – presenting, taking (probably very challenging) questions in front of an audience – fills me with dread.
I literally have no words to describe the panic instilled by this request. The painful truth being: when it comes to public speaking, I’m a complete flake and about as engaging as an annual tax audit.
Realising I’m late for breakfast, I stuff the printed sheets back in the envelope, then go back inside and quickly throw on some clothes, before rushing to the breakfast buffet to join Cat and Amber .
‘Where have you been?’ Amber eyes my forehead suspiciously when I arrive and collapse into a seat, perspiring and panting, envelope in hand. ‘No, strike that, what have you been doing? You look like a sack of shit.’
‘Thanks.’ I narrow my eyes at her. ‘Good thing I don’t have any deep-rooted appearance issues.’
Cat places a concerned hand on my forearm. ‘You look stressed, honey. You haven’t been up all night worrying about your interview, have you? It’s a great opportunity but it’s not worth making yourself ill over.’
‘It’s fine, Cat. I know I don’t have to do it. I want to. At least I think I do. I actually slept really well. James and I were messaging until quite late so I was exhausted by the time I went to bed.’
‘Ooh, that’s exciting. Tell me—’
‘ No . Don’t .’ Amber cuts Cat off. ‘Tell us why you’re sweating like you’ve swallowed a Carolina Reaper.’
‘A what?’ says Cat.
‘World’s hottest chilli – or used to be anyway.’
‘Ah. Yeah, you kind of do.’ She turns to me with a grimace. ‘Sorry, honey.’
I give a loaded sigh, and pour myself a cup of tea, taking a good slug before I fill them in.
‘OK, this “sack of shit” is what happens when you combine hot humid weather with the news that, in a few days, I have to do a twenty-minute presentation. Not just to Sébastien, but also… wait for it … to an audience of resort staff and highly valued guests.’
‘ Oh, my goodness .’ Cat’s hand goes to her mouth. ‘That’s probably the worst thing they could have asked you to do.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Even Amber seems thrown by this. ‘ Crap . Seems we’ve got our work cut out for us. You’d have thought, after hearing you caterwauling at the karaoke that Sébastien would have more sense than to let you loose on his precious clientele.’
‘Thanks, Amber. I was hoping for some words of support, perhaps even reassurance.’
‘What? You want me to lie?’
I look to Cat, desperate for some sign that I’m worrying about nothing. She gently takes the envelope from me and scans the contents.
‘OK, honey, let’s think about this for a minute. You’ve done well in interviews in the past, haven’t you?’
‘Yeah. I get nervous, but I always seem to do a lot better than I think I’ve done. I’m not so worried about that bit. The presentation content shouldn’t be a problem either. I do know my stuff.’
‘Great.’ She offers me an encouraging smile. ‘And I’d say these company values are a good match to your own.’
‘They are.’ I nod. ‘I was happy about that.’
‘OK, that’s also good… and Amber can help you prepare for the behavioural-based side of things. Although right now, I’m wondering if she’s the best role model.’
Amber extends her middle finger at Cat and turns her attention to her heavily laden breakfast plate.
‘Case and point.’ Cat chuckles. ‘So… that just leaves the delivery of the presentation and the Q and the skills to manage some tough questions.’
My growing optimism suddenly deflates. ‘Both of which I lack. What have I got myself into, Cat? I desperately want a shot at this, but right now, I can’t see how I’ll manage that.’
‘You’re panicking, that’s all, and I get why.
I also think our surroundings are making things worse for you.
It’s hard to think about something this serious and intimidating being where we are.
’ She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
‘Amber and I will factor some presentation skills coaching into your plan. How about, for the next few hours, all you do is the prep you’re confident with and after you can join us for lunch? ’
‘OK, sure.’ I take a faltering breath, wiping a trickle of sweat from the side of my face. Then, on getting up to go to the breakfast buffet, a thought lightens my mood. ‘Hey, Amber, I thought you were taking the lead on this. So far, Cat’s doing a much better job than you.’
Amber’s head jolts up from her food. ‘ Eh, no way, bitches . I’m still in charge. And I’m top dog at this stuff, you’ll see.’
Cat and I share a knowing look as I walk away. There’s no surer way to get Amber to become useful, than to indicate that she’s not.