His pride, however, would not permit retreat.
“Fine,” he said. “Bring the manager.”
Naomi nodded.
She turned.
And as she walked away, Henry Lin watched her disappear toward the service corridor.
Then he looked directly at Victor.
“You should be careful,” Henry said.
Victor frowned.
“About what?”
Henry's expression remained unreadable.
“About assuming you know who is standing in front of you.”
The Woman Behind the Apron
Naomi entered the kitchen and stood beside the stainless-steel prep counter.
She breathed slowly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her manager, Daniel Brooks, appeared less than a minute later.
He was forty-seven, permanently tired, and had learned long ago that wealthy customers could cause more trouble than a kitchen fire.
“What happened?”
“Table Twelve requested a new server.”
Daniel glanced toward the dining room.
“Victor Hale?”
Naomi nodded.
Daniel sighed.
“Of course.”
“He says I'm incompetent.”
Daniel's expression tightened.
“He says that about everyone.”
“He also asked me to leave.”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Did he say anything else?”
Naomi hesitated.
“He said he wanted someone educated.”
Daniel looked at her.
Then he looked away.
He knew.
Everyone who had worked with Naomi for more than a few weeks knew.
She wasn't merely a waitress.
She was a waitress because she had chosen to be one.
That distinction mattered.
Naomi had graduated from Stanford at twenty-two with a degree in economics and a second concentration in East Asian studies.
She had spent two years at the University of Hong Kong.
She had worked for an international investment firm in Singapore.
And before returning to San Francisco, she had spent almost four years advising technology companies on cross-border acquisitions.
Then her mother became ill.
Naomi had come home.
She had expected to stay six months.
She stayed six years.
Her mother had eventually recovered, but Naomi had discovered something unexpected during those years.
She liked the restaurant.
She liked the anonymity.
She liked serving people who didn't know her résumé.
She liked walking into a room without anyone caring about her education, her investment experience, or the companies she had advised.
At the restaurant, she was simply Naomi.
A woman who remembered allergies.
A woman who knew which customers liked their coffee strong.
A woman who could tell when someone wanted conversation and when they wanted silence.
Daniel had offered her a management position twice.
She had declined both times.
“I'll talk to him,” Daniel said.
Naomi nodded.
“Do you want me to leave for the night?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“You sure?”
“I've watched Victor Hale insult three servers in two years.”
“Then why do you keep letting him come here?”
Daniel gave a tired smile.
“Because restaurants are complicated businesses.”
Before Naomi could respond, the kitchen door opened.
Henry Lin stepped inside.
Daniel immediately straightened.
“Mr. Lin.”
Henry smiled.
“Please. Henry.”
He looked at Naomi.
“I wanted to apologize.”
Naomi blinked.
“For what?”
“For what happened at the table.”
“You didn't do anything.”
“I watched it happen.”
“That isn't your fault.”
Henry shook his head.
“Sometimes witnessing something and remaining silent is still a choice.”
Naomi studied him.
“You understood everything Victor said?”
Henry smiled faintly.
“I understood enough.”
One of his colleagues appeared behind him.
“Henry, they're waiting.”
Henry nodded, then turned back to Naomi.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you here?”
Naomi smiled.
“Working.”
“No.”
He pointed gently toward her order pad.
“Why are you really here?”
Naomi didn't answer.
Henry seemed to understand.
“Everyone has a reason.”
He reached into his jacket and handed her a business card.
It was simple.
No flashy logo.
Only a name.
Henry Lin
Managing Partner
Pacific Meridian Holdings
Naomi recognized the company.
Everyone in the Bay Area did.
Henry looked toward the dining room.
“Mr. Hale thinks money makes him important.”
Naomi said nothing.
Henry continued.
“Sometimes money merely makes people louder.”
Then he walked away.
Naomi looked down at the card.
For the first time that evening, she wondered whether Table Twelve was about something larger than dinner.
The Conversation He Didn't Understand
Dinner continued.
Naomi returned to the floor.
Daniel had assigned another server to Table Twelve, but Henry immediately requested Naomi's presence.
Victor looked irritated.
“She's not serving us.”
Henry calmly replied, “I requested her.”
Victor stared at him.
Then forced a smile.
“Of course.”
Naomi approached.
“What can I get you?”
Henry looked at her.
“Tea.”
Naomi nodded.
“Jasmine?”
“Yes.”
Then Henry switched to Mandarin.
“We need to discuss the Harbor Point financing.”
Naomi's expression remained neutral.
Victor's head turned sharply.
He didn't understand Mandarin.
But he understood that the conversation had suddenly become serious.
Henry continued.
“We received the revised environmental report.”
One of his colleagues answered.
“There are still concerns.”
Naomi poured tea.
Victor leaned forward.
“Henry, perhaps we should keep business discussions for the presentation tomorrow.”
Henry looked at him.
“We're discussing it now.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
Naomi set the teapot down.
Then she heard a phrase that made her pause.
“Three unresolved parcels.”
She looked toward Henry.
He noticed.
“You know what that means?”