“If You Permit, I Will Fix It”, No One Could Fix Billionaire’s Jet Engine Until A Homeless Girl Did
Once more, a billionaire wearing a navy blue suit looked at the time. Engineers dabbed at perspiration. The doors were watched by security.
Then through the commotion came a distinct voice. I’ll fix it if you let me. Heads jerked in the direction of the open hangar door.
A young woman with ragged hair from the heat and wind stood there. She appeared thin, as if she hadn’t been eating. Her fingers were smeared with grease.
Her calm, bright gaze focused solely on the engine. A chuckle relieved the strain. Are you kidding? Half cheerful, half exhausted, Engineer Sam asked.
Sam’s jet, upkeep, overhaul, and repair. He has twenty years of experience with private aircraft. It’s been six hours since we started this.
His engineer gave a headshake. Who opened the door for her? safety. Someone else called.
Take her out, please. Two of the guards moved forward. Andrew Jacobs, the billionaire CEO and owner of the svelte Bombardier Challenger parked outside, who was wearing a navy blue suit, held up his hand.
Give up. He spoke quietly yet firmly. I’ve seen strange stuff in my line of work.
Let the girl talk. The guards stopped. The girl walked a step further.
“Sir,” she said. The engine is still in focus. I overheard your guys mention that there was an odd sound made during the landing.
similar to a whistle. After shutting down, the engine continued to run rough and wouldn’t spool correctly. Could I have a look? Sam’s jaw sprang open in shock.
He mumbled, That’s exactly what occurred. Andrew looked at her face. The faint smell of jet fuel and the distant hum of generators filled the hangar.
Girls sobbed over the runway outside. Nobody breathed inside. Andrew said to pass the gloves to her.
Shock spread over the group. The guards took a step back. The girl was given a pair of spotless gray gloves by someone.
As she slid them on, her hands briefly shook. They stopped trembling after that. As though the metal itself could whisper its secret, she walked confidently to the engine, examined the intake, and ran her fingertips lightly along the sensor strap while listening.
She knelt down by a tiny panel close to the compressor area and gave it a light tap. Are you even aware of the objects you are touching? A young engineer inquired. She didn’t respond to him.
She grabbed a small mirror and a flashlight. Her face approached the exposed panel. She whispered, “There.”
That clamp is incorrect. Although it’s on the wrong groove, it’s tight. It creates a small air leak.
Under load, the leak sings like a bell. She traced a cable here. There is a tiny insulation crack in this sensor wire.
It is in contact with the bracket. It gives the engine the wrong signal when it becomes hot. The engine seems harsh, and the system attempts to adjust.
Sam blinked. How could we have overlooked that? “Because both issues conceal one another,” she remarked. The sound comes from the leak.
The engine acts ill because of the damaged wiring. You still see problems if you merely repair one. Andrew moved in closer.
Is it anything you can fix? She glanced at the tools, then up at him. If you don’t mind. He looked into her eyes for a long moment.
Take action. The hanger was altered. The group changed from skepticism to vigilance.
The girl’s hands were quick and precise. With a clear click, she tightened the clamp after loosening it and repositioning it in the correct groove. In order to prevent it from rubbing again, she cut and rewrapped the sensor wire, covered it with a sheath, and tied it off from the metal bracket.
After cleaning, she checked the area twice and then a third time. She worked like a singer who knows a song, or someone who knows motors. Sam opened his mouth and leaned forward.
His chief engineer muttered. Master? She may be correct. Is it time? Andrew didn’t check his watch before asking.
Someone answered after seventeen minutes. The girl stood up. Her forehead was speckled with sweat.
She carefully placed the gloves on the cart after removing them. “I’m done,” she declared. Silence fell.
Sam inhaled deeply. He tried to sound firm as he said, “We’ll test it.” However, his tone had altered.
It now carried respect. Andrew gave one nod. Roll it out.
The guys worked fast. On the polished floor, the engine stand rolled and clicked. The tarmac was covered in gold from the afternoon sun outside.
They hooked a ground cart. The cables were connected. There were safety cones.
The group used deliberate, succinct language. The girl watched everything from a distance with her hands clenched, ready to be called upon. Who are you? Andrew stepped next to her and requested in a low voice.
She parted her lips, then shut them. She blinked away the moisture, but her eyes still gleamed. She whispered, “If the test goes well.”
I will reveal my name to you. After examining her for a moment, he nodded slightly. Sam completed his checks with his crew.
He gave Andrew a thumbs up as he looked up. The tail of Andrew’s outfit was sharp against the light as he walked back to the control cart. Before putting his hand on the starter switch, he took a moment to look back at the girl.
The breeze lifted strands of her hair as she stood motionless. Something calm and ferocious, like a tiny flame that would not go out, was in her eyes. Sam urged on everyone to clear.
Cones were examined once again. The lines were obvious. Two mechanics took up positions of safety.
On the Challenger’s white wing, the warning lights started to spin and blink red. As though Lagos as a whole held its breath with them, the air at the airport felt thinner. Andrew touched the starter with his thumb.
Loud as a knock, the clock on the hangar wall ticked once. He said, “Here we go.” The world around the engine came alive when he pressed the button.
With increasing speed, a low whine rose. On the tiny screen, the numbers rose. A shrill warning chirped as the whine became deeper into a smooth surge.
Sam’s head jerked in the direction of the panel. One crimson light blinked. The sound faltered.
The girl in the ripped dress caught everyone’s attention. With her gaze fixed on the engine, she took a single step forward and raised her hand as though to signal, Hold on, listen. Time seemed to have stopped in the hangar.
Every guard, engineer, technician, and even Andrew Jacobs himself waited to see if the engine would choke like it had in the past or roar to life.
A faint glow was thrown across the metal surface by the red glare of the warning light. As if caught between working and dying, the jet engine’s roar fluctuated, rising and dropping.
Olivia stood with her arm up, but no one knew her name yet. The terror was broken by her voice. Don’t turn it off.
Not quite yet. Pay close attention. Sam frowned.
Are you insane? Danger is indicated with a warning light. If— “It’s not the core,” she said firmly, “we could damage the core.” The sensor is simply recalibrating.
It was rewired by me. It takes a moment for the system to recognize the accurate reading. Everyone was surprised by the calmness with which she spoke.
Andrew’s keen gaze flicked back and forth between the young lady and Sam. He had managed multibillion-dollar corporations long enough to recognize authoritative speech. She also did.
“Hold it steady,” said Andrew. All uncertainty was silenced by his speech. The turbine’s whining became more even.
The warning red light wavered. It turned green after becoming green once and twice. The hangar echoed with gasps.
The hum of the engine changed to a steady, strong rush—the sound of perfection. The Challenger jet engine came back to life. Sam stumbled back.
His face went white. His wrench was dropped by one of his engineers. Another whispered to himself.
Not possible. Andrew’s eyes widened in shock and his lips parted. His finest troops had fought this machine for six hours, perspiring, cursing, and losing.
And in less than twenty minutes, this stranger in a frayed gown, this homeless girl, had accomplished what none of them could. He turned gently in her direction. What’s your name? His voice was barely audible, yet it reverberated like thunder throughout the hangar.
The girl took a deep breath. She stood up despite the tears in her eyes. Olivia Williams is my name.
Most of the engineers had no idea what the name meant, but Sam’s expression fell like if he had been hit. He breathed: Nigeria Aerospace University’s Williams. At the top of your class? Murmurs echoed around the hangar floor, “You, you’re her.”
All of them had heard the tales. The young lady destined for fame in aerospace, the prodigy who had astonished professors. Then nothing.
Two years ago, she had disappeared as if she had been completely engulfed by the soil. Andrew never took his eyes off her. “Tell me,” he responded quietly.
Olivia’s voice broke as she spoke, standing there in the light of the still-spinning engine. My father declared he was getting married to a second wife when he got up one morning two years ago. My mom was unable to handle it. Family care services
She said they would die together before she saw him betray her, so she ate the same food that she had contaminated when he passed out. Even if her voice wavered, she went on. Their only child was me.
I was twenty years old, only a few months out of school, and ready to start my ideal job with one of the world’s top aerospace companies. But I was devastated when they both passed away in front of me. I was unable to face life.
My interviews were canceled. I discarded my phone. I wandered till I was totally lost.
I found myself begging to live on the streets. Aside from the buzz of the motor, the hangar was quiet. Sam even bent his head in embarrassment over making fun of her just minutes before. School supplies
Tears blazed in Olivia’s eyes. However, I passed this repair facility every day. Through the gate, I would gaze, recalling the future I had lost.
And I thought, “Just once, let me try,” when I heard your voices today and realized how powerless you all were. even if I’m kicked out. even if I’m made fun of.
At least I won’t have passed away with my dream still alive. Lotta. Owlmane.
Andrew’s throat became constricted. Tears threatened his eyes for the first time in years. He was a man accustomed to figures, contracts, and boardrooms.
But more than any words, the young woman’s candor struck a chord with him. Sam’s voice broke. We were saved by you.
He was saved by you. He gestured to Andrew’s challenger jet, which was shining outside. We wouldn’t have succeeded.
With his shiny sneakers clicking on the floor, Andrew took a step closer. He lightly touched Olivia’s shoulder. My engine wasn’t only fixed by you.
I was reminded by you of the importance of second opportunities. His gaze shifted to the audience. Everyone saw it.
Recall this instance. His voice sounded authoritative. Being great is not about how you look.
Titles are irrelevant. It everything comes down to heart, talent, and truth. And this young lady had all three today.
Olivia shuddered, not knowing whether to back off or bow. Andrew wasn’t finished, though. He said, Olivia Williams.
You will never again beg for food after this. You will never again be homeless on these streets. I’ll personally see to it that everyone is aware of your identity.
The engineers erupted in applause and gasps. Sam clapped, but his vision was obscured by tears. Overwhelmed, Olivia put her hands over her mouth.
Hope didn’t feel like a harsh recollection for the first time in years. It was authentic. Andrew looked at his timepiece.
I have six hours to go to London. And without you, I won’t go there. Her gaze expanded.
Sir? My jet was fixed by you. I’ll fly with you. The hangar exploded once more.
Sam muttered to his group. London is her destination. She saved that jet.
Olivia stood outside the hangar a few minutes later, gazing at her image in the shiny surface of the plane. She saw no beggar for the first time. She recognized the person she was destined to be.
But terror made her heart accelerate as she touched the cool metal. Could this really be it? Or would it all be a dream and disappear? The silence was broken by Andrew’s voice behind her. Prepare yourself.
Your name will soon be known to the world. None of them realized that Olivia’s adventure had just begun as she ascended the stairs onto the private jet. The cabin of the Challenger plane shone like a floating castle.
The polished wooden tables were curled gently by cream leather seats. Soft but strong, gold-toned light poured from the ceiling. Olivia’s ragged gown and matted hair looked painfully out of place in this world of affluence, and she sat stiffly near the window.
She blinked to stop the uncontrollable tears as she continued to stare at the runway lights outside. The door closed tightly. The engines roared.
Olivia felt her chest constricted with each jolt as the plane rolled forward. Once, when her life still made sense, she had fantasized of sitting in a plane like this. She never thought she would be here—not as a traveler, but as the one who saved the machine that took them to the stars.
With the ease of a man accustomed to ruling the world, Andrew Jacob leaned back across from her. His gaze, however, remained fixed on Olivia. He examined her in the same manner that a historian examines an uncommon, lost book.
Over the din of takeoff, Andrew’s voice remained steady as he finally stated, “You worked on my jet like someone born to fix it.” Be honest with me. Where did you receive your training? Olivia took a swallow.
Sir, I am from Nigeria Aerospace University. I was the top graduate in my class. The first female student in aircraft repair to receive a distinction grade.
Andrew’s eyebrows went up. And yet here you are, hungry, in a ripped dress. Shame burned across her face.
She looked down at her hands. Life broke me. Nothing made sense once my parents passed away.
I was no longer willing to battle. The steady hum of the engines was the only sound to break the momentary silence that pervaded the cabin. Andrew extracted a little velvet box from the compartment next to him.
Between them, he set it on the table. Olivia hesitated before opening it and lifting the lid. A simple yet brilliant gold bracelet bearing the initials A.J. was inside. She opened her mouth.
Respected sir. I. Andrew held out his hand. My late wife owned this bracelet.
She was an advocate for helping those who had fallen. You are not destined to live on the streets, which is why I am passing it to you tonight. You are destined to take the lead.
Olivia’s eyes were filled with tears. She was unable to breathe or move. Her hands were shaking as she closed the package.
Andrew bent over. You are scheduled to meet with executives from JJ Jet Maintenance, the firm that extended the job offer to you, in London tomorrow. Let me introduce you as my challenger’s rescuer.
They’ll pay attention. Olivia’s heart stopped beating. JJ Jet Upkeep? Before her world fell apart two years ago, she had fantasized of that moment.
She had severed her relationship with them, buried her future in sorrow, and now it was miraculously coming back. Respected sir. What happens if they make fun of me? She muttered.
Andrew’s piercing eyes become softer. They then make fun of me for having faith in you. However, I don’t think they will.
Your gift is far too unique. At cruising altitude, the aircraft stabilized. With a courteous bow, a hostess emerged.
I’ve prepared dinner, sir. Andrew gave Olivia a gesture. Bring her clothes.
The hostess came back with a little case of toiletries and a sleek gold gown that gleamed in the cabin lights. Olivia’s jaw dropped. This? Is this for me? Andrew gave a nod.
You won’t show up in rags for the meeting tomorrow. You’ll enter as the person you were intended to be. Olivia smiled through her tears for the first time in years.
She vanished into the bathroom of the cabin. The minutes went by. The room seemed different when she came back.
Under the lights, her well-groomed hair, secured in a stylish bun, shimmered. She was transformed from a homeless kid into a queen by the simple yet exquisite gown that fit her slim figure. Even her eyes seemed to have been polished by optimism itself.
Andrew stood up in disbelief. He had witnessed Hollywood actresses, Parisian models, and London business magnates, but he had never witnessed such a profound shift. “You look like destiny itself,” he murmured softly.
Olivia gave a shy little laugh. Destiny doesn’t feel like me. I simply feel like myself.
Once more. There was little chat during dinner. Andrew inquired about her love of motors, her lecturers, and her early dreams.
Her voice came to life like if a locked door inside of her had opened, and she spoke passionately. Andrew’s eyes were unreadable when he leaned back after the dinner. Olivia.
You will have an option when this jet lands. You have two options: either you walk away and vanish once more, or you choose to live the life you were meant to live. What will it be? Her breath trembled as her hands tightened around the armrest.
She recalled the evenings spent begging for bread on the street. She thought that this opportunity, a door opening, had been permanently closed when she passed Sam’s repair shop and stared at the life she had lost. Her words were solid, but her voice broke.
I’ll take it on. I’m not going to run again. The smallest smile curled Andrew’s lips.
Excellent. Olivia looked out the window as the jet cut through the night sky. City lights flickered like constellations below.
She reflected on her parents, the agony, the treachery, and the tragedy. She felt the chains around her neck loosen for the first time. She was moving into light, and behind her were shadows.
I won’t waste this opportunity, she said to herself as she closed her eyes. However, Olivia was unaware—and even Andrew was unable to predict—that fate had more in store for her than a career. London was in the midst of a storm.
Secrets. Choices. And someone who was going to transform her life in ways she could never have predicted.
Andrew straightened his tie and looked at Olivia attentively as the plane shot more into the night. Hope also sparked in his own heart for the first time in years.
But what if I’m mistaken about her? a voice murmured deep inside him. What if she doesn’t succeed? The same question made Olivia’s stomach turn, despite her best efforts to remain strong.
What if I’m destroyed again tomorrow? Two people whose lives were on the verge of colliding with fate itself were on board the Challenger as it sliced through the Atlantic sky.
As dawn turned the sky a faint orange, the wheels of the Challenger jet kissed the tarmac at London City Airport. Olivia tried to calm the fury inside her by pressing her palms against her knees.
Every idea was too loud, every breath too heavy. She had assured Andrew that she was prepared, but now that the time had arrived, anxiety gripped her throat tightly. Sharp as ever in his navy blue suit, Andrew took notice.
He said quietly as he bent in her direction. Keep in mind that Olivia’s abilities are more impressive than her looks. Be yourself and don’t strive to impress others.
Against the damp streets, the automobile that took them away shone blackly. The buildings of London mirrored the rising sun. Olivia’s gaze flicked back and forth between the city outside and her own shaky image in the tinted glass.
It’s this. She reminded herself not to run any more. By mid-morning, Olivia was inside JJ Jet Maintenance, Repair, and Overhaul International, a glass and steel high-rise tower.
The boardroom was large, with a high ceiling and walls lined with screens that showed glowing statistics and airplane blueprints.
A group of executives in dark suits, each with a face sharp enough to break glass, sat at the far end of a long table. A gray-haired man with small glasses straightened his tie and turned to face Andrew.
We have been waiting for this meeting for six hours, Mr. Jacobs. I hope you have a valid excuse. Andrew spoke in a cool, authoritative tone.
Yes, I do. The engineer that fixed my Challenger Jet when your rivals failed is Olivia Williams, whom I present to you. A woman wearing a red blazer raised an eyebrow as whispers spread around the table.
That girl. She lingered on Olivia’s gold gown as her gaze moved from head to toe. Untested, she seems.
Olivia’s chest constricted. Is it not the Stom? To prevent her hands from shaking, she clasped them behind her back. Andrew’s voice became piercing.
Don’t judge by appearances. Consider what she is capable of. The man with the gray hair leaned forward.
Mr. Jacobs says a lot about you, Miss Williams. However, skill at our worldwide level is not the same as skill in a Nigerian hangar. What specifically did you fix on his jet, please? Olivia inhaled deeply.
It was her time. A whistling sound was created under load due to a leak caused by the compressor section clamp being fastened in the incorrect groove. Meanwhile, the insulation on a sensor wire had broken.
The engine was running rough because the wire was rubbing against a bracket, confounding the system. It would be difficult to identify either problem by itself. They disguised one another together.
The repair crew failed because of this. As she spoke, her passion was evident in the steadying of her voice. However, engines can speak.
You simply must pay attention. Air, not core, was the whistle. The rough spool was not damaged; it was an information error.
When both were fixed, the machine returned to the truth. There was silence. She caught the executive’s attention.
Despite herself, one of them, an elderly woman with silver hair wrapped up in a bun, cocked her head in admiration. That’s right. The spectacled man scowled.
A manual can be memorized by anyone. Andrew’s jaw tensed, but Olivia’s hand went up a little. Could I? She inquired.
The woman in the red jacket pointed to the wall-mounted TV. Proceed. Olivia approached the screen, which displayed a slowly spinning computer design of a jet engine.
She ran her fingers across the controls. She said, “Give me a random failure scenario.” The spectacled man grinned.
You’re brave. Excellent. He typed rapidly.
A series of numerals jumbled as the screen flickered. The virtual engine has a red danger light flashing next to it. Olivia narrowed her eyes as she looked over the statistics.
She said, “This isn’t the fuel line or the turbine.” This vibration sensor produces erroneously high readings. Either the calibration offset is incorrect, or the sensor is loose.
She isolated the issue by tapping a few keys. You see? Physical stress is not reflected in the vibration pattern. Software echo is what this is.
It will be fixed by recalibration. Calm and steady, she turned back to the boardroom. The engine itself looks alright, however if this were true, I would examine the installation first.
The red caution light went out. The screen verified. The sensor calibration problem has been fixed.
The room became silent. First to speak was the woman with the silver bun. She is correct.
There was weight in her voice. Exactly. The spectacled man slumped back, his face white.
Andrew gave himself permission to smile a little. Do you see now? The executive with the red blazer folded her arms. Her genius cannot be denied.
However, genius on its own is insufficient. Managing a branch calls for perseverance, leadership, and discipline. Andrew got up.
The room echoed with his voice. Olivia possesses all three. In the most terrible way, she managed to survive losing her parents.
Even after two years of homelessness, she continues to share her wisdom like a dying flame. What is resilience if that isn’t it? Slowly, the woman with the bun nodded. Maybe we should stop undervaluing women like her.
She looked across at Olivia. Miss Williams, how would you respond if we offered you Africa’s largest branch, Lagos? Olivia’s heart was racing. She glanced back at the executives after glancing at Andrew.
I would make it the world’s most lucrative branch. Not out of pride, but to demonstrate that no tragedy or situation can stifle genuine promise. There was silence for a minute.
The spectacled man then put down his pen with a groan. Give it a shot. I can’t dispute what I’ve witnessed.
The red-clad woman nodded curtly, her lips pursed. At last, the woman with gray hair gave a slight smile. Olivia Williams, welcome to JJ Jet Maintenance.
Lagos is all yours from now on. Olivia felt the words as if they were thunder. Her vision was obscured by tears.
“Thank you,” she muttered, bowing her head. Andrew’s hand lightly touched her shoulder. This is something you deserve.
However, Andrew’s phone began to buzz as they were leaving the boardroom. As he read the message, his expression shifted. His forehead was furrowed in concern.
Olivia took notice. Is something wrong, sir? Andrew’s mouth tensed. It appears that this choice has not pleased everyone.
Opposition might be waiting in Lagos. Olivia felt sick to her stomach. Was someone already planning to rip away the life she believed she had lost after she had finally returned to it? Although the door to the future had opened, there were still shadows lurking outside.
It was a different flight back to Lagos. The engine of the Challenger jet, which Olivia had spared, hummed proudly as it carried her toward a world she never imagined was imaginable. As he set up the logistics for her meeting, Andrew sat across from her, his phone vibrating nonstop.
Olivia should have felt triumphant, but his words in London lingered, and uneasiness darkened her heart. In Lagos, there might be opposition waiting to disobey. Reporters mobbed the tarmac as they touched down.
Flashlights burst. The cameras whirred. Already, word had gotten out that a homeless girl had accomplished something that skilled engineers were unable to.
As security led them past the crowd, Andrew used his arm to protect Olivia. Tension hung in the air inside JJ Jet Maintenance’s recently constructed Lagos branch.
Under the polished greeting, Olivia detected suspicion despite the hangar’s shiny new paint job, well-organized equipment, and workers waiting in line for introductions.
Sam was also present. He had been invited by Andrew to observe her first actions as branch head. His expression was one of respect today, but it was also one of remorse since he had once laughed at her, and the thought troubled him.
Mr. Adewale, the regional director, came forward. He shook his hand rigidly. He stated in a monotone voice, “So you’re the young woman from the papers.”
Admittedly, I find it hard to believe that our biggest African operation will be led by someone with such a lack of expertise. Olivia steadied herself in spite of her pounding heart to meet his gaze.
“Judge me by what I can do, not by where I’ve been,” she said softly.
There were murmurs among the employees. A few appeared impressed. Others didn’t seem convinced.
The challenge came barely a week after she took over as leader. Shortly before a voyage abroad, a well-known client’s Gulfstream Jet reported serious engine issues. Before Olivia had even gotten used to her position, the Lagos branch was in a panic, fearing that their reputation would be ruined.
Adewale’s arms were folded. See what the miraculous girl can accomplish. He spoke in a doubtful tone.
Olivia forced herself not to panic. Bring the plane in. In the hangar, the jet was dragged.
Whispering, mechanics gathered. As if listening for a heartbeat, Olivia’s fingers brushed the metal as she strolled around the engine. She closed her eyes and thought back to the years she had spent in school, the books she had read, and the unquenchable enthusiasm.
After a few minutes of stillness, she stated, “This isn’t a fuel problem.” It is a malfunctioning bleed valve. Under load, it remains open, causing the compressor to lose necessary air.
It stalls because of this. Sam took a step forward. She is correct.
This time, he didn’t hesitate. She clarified the signs before I could, but I saw them too. Adewale frowned.
Then fix it. This branch fails along with you if you fail. Olivia took the lead in the repair with firm hands.
She led the group, imparting knowledge while working and demonstrating the reasoning behind each action. After testing, the engine roared back to perfect life in a matter of hours. The client was astounded, shook her hand directly, and pledged to share her genius.
The Lagos staff cheered her on for the first time. Olivia, however, saw Adewale in the corner, his teeth clenched. He had suffered a wound to his dignity.
And damaged pride frequently resulted in risky plans. Olivia sat by herself in her office that night. Her heart was sad even though her team’s cheers could still be heard dimly in the hangar.
Even though she had shown herself once more, Adewale’s expression told her he wasn’t finished. The door was knocked on. Andrew came in with a proud expression on his face.
In just one week, you accomplished more than many people do in years. Lagos is thriving under your direction. Olivia gave a small smile.
However, not everyone has faith in me. Jest, not inder. The salve gets a dozen.
Andrew let out a sigh. Applause is not as loud as envy. But believe me, you’ve planted something that the adversary can’t take away.
Olivia was about to respond when there was another knock. Jerry took over. Taller than she had anticipated, Andrew’s boy had a kind smile and quiet, intense eyes that observed her.
After earning his MBA in London, he was prepared to return to his position as business accountant. Jerry whispered quietly, “So this is the Olivia I’ve been hearing about.” Olivia flushed, the woman who now runs Lagos and fixed my father’s jet.
Command, I wouldn’t say. Jerry laughed, “I just… try to listen to what the machines need.” And, I believe, people.
Compared to most leaders, you listen better. They frequently crossed paths over dinner at Andrew’s estate during the ensuing weeks. balancing figures in the office late at night.
Silent conversations on the balcony with a view of the city of Lagos. Jerry’s cool demeanor calmed Olivia’s anxieties, while Olivia’s fervor motivated Jerry in turn. Before long, rumors started to circulate.
Employees observed how Jerry’s gaze lingered on Olivia and how her smile radiated around him. Jerry brought Olivia to the balcony one evening after a long day of going over contracts. Below, the city glistened, headlights slicing through the streets like light rivers.
His heart thumping, he turned toward her. Olivia, you were a huge hit in our life. You restored hope in addition to engines, which others were unable to do.
A life without you is not something I want to consider. He reached into his pocket and took out a little velvet box while kneeling. There was a diamond ring within that gleamed in the city light.
Are you going to wed me? Olivia’s cheeks began to well up with tears. She had been homeless, broken, and unseen for years. Here she was now, a beloved and selected one.
Yes, months later, Lagos saw a wedding like no other, she whispered, her voice shaking. Chandeliers and flowers glistened throughout the cathedral. The pews were packed with Nigeria’s elite.
Outside, reporters crowded the steps. With tears in his eyes and a firm grip on Olivia’s hand, Andrew himself escorted her down the aisle. He muttered, “You fixed my jet once when you were a girl in rags.”
You are now my daughter. The congregation stood up as Olivia arrived at the altar to meet Jerry. She talked with a voice full of humility and strength as she made her vows. School transportation services
I became engrossed in my parents’ misfortune. Without hope, I slept on the streets. But one day I ventured to say, I’ll fix it if you let me.
My life was altered by that moment. In addition to leading the biggest jet repair branch in Africa, I am getting married to the son of the guy who gave me a second chance today. This demonstrates that light can always find us again, no matter how deep the darkness.
Applause erupted throughout the cathedral. With his palms raised to the sky in thanksgiving, Andrew let his tears fall freely. Olivia held her baby boy in her arms a year later.
Jerry grinned happily as he stood next to her. In honor of Andrew’s late father, they gave the boy the name Jonathan. Tears fell down Andrew’s cheeks as he embraced his grandson.
He had commanded industries, flown across continents, and constructed empires, but none of it was like this. A family was reunited. A legacy persisted.
He whispered to Olivia, “You were the answer I never saw coming.” My life is finished. And now, through her own tears, Olivia, a destitute child in rags, smiled.
She had discovered her identity, her calling, and her love. The globe was inspired by the story of the girl who pleaded for scraps.
