Mr. Biodun was twenty-three minutes late for the client meeting.
Mrs. Eze checked her watch.
“Can we start?”
Temi looked at the empty chair beside her.
“Yes.”
So they started.
Temi knew the account. She had written the brief, built the presentation and pulled the audience data.
When Mrs. Eze challenged the digital budget, Temi showed her the numbers.
Mrs. Eze studied them.
“That makes sense.”
By the time the meeting ended, Mr. Biodun still hadn't arrived.
Mrs. Eze closed her notebook.
“Temi, what exactly do you do here?”
“I handle content strategy for your account.”
“You should be in every meeting.”
Temi smiled. “I usually am.”
“No, I mean presenting. You know this account.”
Temi didn't know what to say to that.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Biodun arrived five minutes after Mrs. Eze left.
“How did it go?”
“Fine.”
“You handled it?”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “I knew you could.”
Of course he did.
“She wants the audience data in writing.”
“Great. Put it together.”
Temi did.
At 5:30, an email arrived.
From: Mr. Biodun
To: Mrs. Eze
CC: Temi Adeyemi
Thank you for a productive session today. Please find the audience data attached.
Temi stared at the screen.
Her analysis.
Her document.
His email.
Her name in CC.
She opened draft_something.docx.
This time, the sentence came easily.
Sometimes the worst part is not that they don't know what you did. It's that they know.
Temi read it.
And left it there.