He remembered her analysis.
He remembered the paper she had written about urban development and long-term infrastructure risk.
“You were the student who challenged the professor's model,” Henry said.
Naomi smiled.
“I challenged one assumption.”
“You challenged four.”
Daniel laughed.
Victor stared at them.
“This is absurd.”
Henry turned.
“No. What is absurd is that you spent two hours explaining your investment project while the person who understood its weaknesses was standing beside you.”
Victor's face hardened.
Naomi looked at the project folder on the table.
She had noticed something earlier.
A logo.
Hale Urban Development.
She had seen it before.
Not in the restaurant.
In financial documents.
“May I ask something?”
Victor looked suspicious.
“What?”
“The waterfront project.”
Victor sat straighter.
“What about it?”
“Your projected occupancy rate is seventy-nine percent, correct?”
Victor frowned.
“Yes.”
“Your model assumes premium residential units will maintain current Bay Area rental growth.”
“Yes.”
“And your financing assumes refinancing after four years.”
Victor's expression changed.
“Yes.”
Naomi nodded.
“That is aggressive.”
Victor laughed.
“You don't understand the project.”
Henry spoke.
“Let her continue.”
Naomi opened her order pad.
She wrote three numbers.
“Construction costs.”
“Interest exposure.”
“Lease-up period.”
Then she looked at Victor.
“If any one of those moves against you by more than ten percent, your projected return falls dramatically.”
Victor stared at the numbers.
“Who told you that?”
“No one.”
“How do you know?”
“I read public filings.”
Henry leaned back.
Daniel whispered something to the third investor.
Victor suddenly looked less certain.
For the first time that evening, he wasn't looking at Naomi as a waitress.
He was looking at her as a threat.
That was his mistake.
Naomi wasn't trying to threaten him.
She was simply answering questions.
But truth often feels threatening to people who built their confidence on nobody questioning them.
The Investment Dinner
Dinner continued.
But the balance of power had changed.
Victor ordered another bottle of wine.
Naomi brought it.
He did not look at her.
Henry did.
Daniel did.
So did the third investor, Marcus Zhao.
The conversation shifted.
Instead of Victor speaking continuously, Henry began asking questions.
“Construction contingency?”
Victor answered.
“Eight percent.”
“Why not ten?”
“We have strong contractors.”
“Fixed-price contracts?”
“Some.”
“Some?”
Victor hesitated.
Naomi stood several feet away.
She could hear everything.
Marcus asked, “Environmental remediation?”
Victor said the reports were favorable.
Naomi remembered something.
She had read an environmental assessment months earlier.
There had been concerns about soil contamination from an old industrial facility.
“Wasn't there a remediation reserve?”
Victor looked at her sharply.
“Stay out of this.”
Henry turned.
“Mr. Hale.”
Victor stopped.
Henry's voice became colder.
“Ask her.”
Victor stared at Naomi.
She answered anyway.
“The preliminary assessment mentioned elevated remediation costs under one scenario.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“That report was preliminary.”
“Yes.”
“And it was resolved.”
“I didn't say it wasn't.”
Henry looked at Victor.
“Why wasn't that disclosed?”
Victor shifted.
“It wasn't material.”
Naomi said nothing.
Henry's expression made it clear that he disagreed.
The dinner ended forty minutes later.
The three businessmen stood.
Henry buttoned his jacket.
Victor extended his hand.
“Tomorrow morning, I'll have the revised projections sent to you.”
Henry accepted the handshake.
“Please do.”
Then Henry turned to Naomi.
“May I have your card?”
Naomi hesitated.
She didn't have a business card.
Not one for this life.
Henry smiled.
“Then give me your email.”
She wrote it down.
Victor watched.
When the three men left, the restaurant seemed suddenly quieter.
Victor remained seated.
Naomi approached with the check folder.
He looked at her.
“You embarrassed me.”
Naomi's voice remained calm.
“I answered questions.”
“You undermined me.”
“No.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Naomi shook her head.
“You asked me to leave because you thought I wasn't educated.”
Victor stood.
“You have no idea who you're dealing with.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Neither did you.”
Victor stared at her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he walked away.