Eleanor studied him.
"Do you want forgiveness?"
"Yes."
"Or do you want the Harbor Crown agreement?"
His face went still.
Gregory, watching from across the room, knew the conversation had changed completely.
Richard slowly pulled out the chair.
"May I sit?"
Eleanor looked at the empty chair.
"Why?"
"To explain."
"You don't need to."
"I think I do."
Eleanor gestured toward the chair.
"Five minutes."
Richard sat.
For the first time that evening, he wasn't the most powerful person at the table.
And he knew it.
What Money Couldn't Buy
Richard began carefully.
"I've heard good things about your company."
Eleanor smiled.
"You've heard many things."
"I've been trying to reach you."
"I know."
Richard looked surprised.
"You know?"
"My assistant receives your emails."
"Then why haven't you responded?"
Eleanor placed her spoon down.
"Because you haven't asked the right question."
Richard frowned.
"What question should I have asked?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why should I work with you?"
Richard paused.
"Because Harbor Crown will be one of the largest developments in the city."
"That's what you're building."
"Yes."
"You still haven't answered."
Richard leaned back.
"Our project will create jobs."
"Good."
"Increase tax revenue."
"Good."
"Bring tourism."
"Good."
"And generate billions in economic activity."
Eleanor nodded.
"All good reasons."
Richard smiled.
"Then—"
"But none of those reasons tell me why I should trust you."
His smile disappeared.
Eleanor continued.
"Trust is not built by numbers."
Richard looked at her.
"It's built by behavior."
He glanced toward the restaurant.
"Is this about what happened tonight?"
"Partly."
"I apologized."
"You did."
"So?"
"So I listened."
Richard frowned.
"To what?"
"Your apology."
"And?"
"I don't think you understood what you were apologizing for."
He was silent.
Eleanor leaned forward.
"You apologized because you discovered who I was."
Richard's expression changed.
"No."
"Yes."
"I apologized because I was rude."
"You were."
"But that's not the only reason."
"No."
She looked directly at him.
"You were comfortable insulting me when you believed I had nothing you wanted."
Richard didn't answer.
"And the moment you learned I controlled something you needed, your behavior changed."
"That's not fair."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
"Isn't it?"
Richard thought about the last hour.
His first words.
His assumptions.
His tone.
The way he had looked at her clothes.
He couldn't argue.
Eleanor sat back.
"This is exactly why I don't announce my name when I walk into a room."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know how people behave when they think I can't help them."
Richard looked down.
The sentence struck him.
Eleanor continued.
"You learn a great deal when people think you have no power."
Richard quietly said:
"You've been testing people."
"No."
She smiled.
"I've been observing them."
He looked toward her handbag.
"Why dress like this?"
Eleanor looked down.
"This coat belonged to my sister."
Richard said nothing.
"She died eleven years ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
Eleanor touched the old handbag.
"This belonged to my mother."
Richard looked at it.
"She gave it to me when I was thirty."
"Why keep it?"
"Because it reminds me where I came from."
Richard nodded.
Eleanor looked around the restaurant.
"Do you know what the Grand Aurelia was eleven years ago?"
"No."
"It was where my sister celebrated her retirement."
Richard listened.
"She had worked for thirty-four years."
"As what?"
"Head chef."
Richard looked surprised.
"Here?"
Eleanor nodded.
"Her name was Margaret Grant."
Richard looked toward the kitchen.
"I didn't know."
"Most people didn't."
"Why?"
"Because she didn't need anyone to know."
Eleanor smiled.
"She loved cooking."
She paused.
"She didn't care who ate her food."
"She cared whether they enjoyed it."
Richard looked down.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
Eleanor continued.
"She told me once that a restaurant reveals its character by how it treats people who don't appear important."
Richard slowly looked up.
"Your sister?"
"Yes."
"She taught you that?"
"She taught me many things."
The pianist began playing a slower piece.
For a moment, the restaurant seemed quieter.
Then Eleanor said:
"Your project has a problem."
Richard's attention sharpened.
"What problem?"
"You've designed Harbor Crown around people who can afford to live there."
"That's the market."
"Yes."
"And?"
"Where do the people who already live there go?"
Richard hesitated.
"The development will include affordable units."
"How many?"
"Three hundred."
"Out of how many?"
He didn't answer.
"Three thousand two hundred."
Richard looked uncomfortable.
Eleanor continued.
"You've built a luxury development and attached a small affordable housing component so you can say the right words."
"That's not fair."
"It is."
"What would you change?"
"Transit."
Richard frowned.
"What?"
"Public transit."
"There's already a station."
"Two miles away."
"We're extending shuttle service."
"Private shuttle."
"Yes."
"Then people without money still have to depend on the goodwill of people with money."
Richard didn't respond.
Eleanor continued.
"Your project is impressive."
"Thank you."
"It's also incomplete."
Richard leaned forward.
"What would make it complete?"
"Access."
"Access to what?"
"Everything."
Housing.
Transportation.
Education.
Healthcare.
Jobs.
Richard listened.
She wasn't attacking the project.
She was challenging its assumptions.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Eleanor smiled.
"That's the wrong question again."
Richard sighed.
"Then what should I ask?"