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Okay, fine — maybe I pushed Caleb a little.

He strutted into our department like he owned the building. Kept calling meetings “huddles.” Referred to himself as a “solutioneer.” Loud, slick, full of buzzwords and buzzcut — he was HR's golden boy, fast-tracked for leadership after one flashy pitch deck.

I smiled. Nodded. Said “great idea!” and volunteered to support. Behind the scenes? I watched him botch three key initiatives and take credit for a fourth that I’d built quietly over a weekend.

But the real show came during our quarterly review presentation.

Caleb insisted on going last. “End with a bang,” he said. Sure.

He walked up to the mic, launched his slides, and delivered his monologue: “Innovation, iteration, impact.” He dropped acronyms like confetti. Everyone clapped. Until the Q&A.

One director asked about the automation pipeline metrics. Caleb smiled. “We increased throughput by 17%.” Pause. “Roughly.”

Another exec raised a hand. “Your slide says 34%.”

Caleb blinked. Stammered. Tried to scroll back. The deck froze.

Someone — not me, of course — had uploaded the wrong version.

It wasn’t sabotage. Not technically. Just that I’d shared our “draft” folder with him. The real numbers? Were mine — and I had them, printed and annotated.

I stood. “Would it help if I walked the team through the actual pipeline numbers?”

Ten minutes later, I was fielding questions from the VP. Caleb was refreshing the projector.

He left for “a new opportunity” the following month.

Always rehearse. Especially when you’re reading someone else’s lines.