A Client Thanked Me for Twelve Weeks of Support I Never Approved—Then I Saw My Name in the Deal

PART 2

Samira found Naomi at her desk before lunch.

She had printed three proposal versions and was holding them as if paper might make the situation less digital and therefore less dangerous.

“The name was added in version nine,” she said.

“When was pricing locked?”

“Version seven.”

Naomi took the pages.

“So my support was added after the implementation price was already agreed.”

“Yes.”

“Who added it?”

“Curtis.”

Naomi looked up.

Samira sat in the chair beside her desk.

“He said we needed to make the delivery feel safer without reopening price,” she said.

“Did you ask whether I had capacity?”

“I asked whether strategy had capacity.”

“And?”

“He said executive bench support doesn’t get staffed like ordinary delivery.”

Naomi almost laughed.

“What does that mean?”

Samira’s face tightened.

“I thought it meant you had some flexible advisory time.”

“I have two hours approved for this account.”

Samira stared at the proposal.

Then she said, “Curtis tells us you’re the person who always finds a way when a launch gets complicated.”

Naomi felt something settle into place.

Praise.

Availability.

Somewhere inside the sales organization, they had become the same word.

Samira turned the version-nine page over. On the back she had scribbled notes from the pricing call.

Client wants confidence on implementation. Curtis: keep price, strengthen bench. Naomi through launch?

Samira tapped the line. “I wrote that. I remember asking if you were really available.”

“And he said executive bench?”

“He said, ‘Naomi doesn’t need to be staffed like a consultant. She comes in where it matters.’”

Naomi looked at the sentence for a long moment.

“What did you tell Rachel?”

“That we could bring senior strategy in throughout the implementation.”

“That is broader than two hours.”

“Yes.”

“Did you think you were lying?”

“No.” Samira’s answer was immediate. “I thought I was describing how we actually work.”

That answer mattered more than an apology. The problem was not one reckless salesperson improvising a promise. Samira had been taught a story about capacity and believed it.

Naomi handed the pages back.

“Keep these versions,” she said. “Don’t clean them up.”

Samira nodded.

“And don’t promise Rachel anything new until I talk to Curtis.”

“I won’t.”

For the first time that morning, Naomi felt less like someone whose calendar had been borrowed and more like someone looking at a

process.