Victor returned to his seat.
“He doesn't trust anyone. He doesn't talk about himself. He doesn't drink much. He doesn't like being watched.”
Naomi slowly understood.
“You want me to spy on him?”
“No.”
Victor shook his head.
“I want you to figure him out.”
“And why?”
“Because I made a bet.”
Naomi's eyes narrowed.
“With who?”
Victor looked at his friends.
They were suddenly very interested in their drinks.
Then he looked back at her.
“With a man who thinks people like you are invisible.”
Naomi felt something harden inside her.
“People like me?”
Victor nodded.
“People who work for a living. People without connections. People who think intelligence is enough to change their circumstances.”
Naomi looked at the paper in her hand.
“One hundred thousand dollars?”
“One hundred thousand.”
“What exactly do I have to do?”
Victor smiled.
“Make Daniel Cross tell you the truth.”
Naomi shook her head.
“That doesn't sound like a challenge.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“You're right.”
He pointed toward the private dining room.
“The challenge is that if you fail, you have to admit in front of everyone here that you're exactly what I think you are.”
Naomi stared at him.
“And what do you think I am?”
Victor's answer came quietly.
“Someone who dreams above her station.”
Silence.
Naomi looked around the restaurant.
Then at the paper.
Then at Victor.
For six years she had swallowed insults.
For six years she had watched wealthy people leave food on plates while complaining about prices.
For six years she had listened to strangers tell her what she could and couldn't become.
Usually, she walked away.
Tonight was different.
Naomi folded the paper again.
“Fine.”
Victor raised an eyebrow.
“Fine?”
“I accept.”
His friends laughed.
Victor didn't.
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
“Good.”
Naomi picked up her order pad.
“But I have one condition.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“What?”
“If I win, you don't just pay me.”
“What else?”
“You apologize.”
Victor laughed.
“Publicly.”
Naomi held his gaze.
“In front of everyone.”
Victor considered her.
Then he raised his glass.
“Deal.”
Naomi turned away.
Behind her, Victor said one final thing.
“Good luck, Naomi.”
She stopped.
“How do you know my name?”
Victor smiled.
“That,” he said, “is part of the challenge.”
The Man in the Private Room
At 8:17 p.m., Daniel Cross walked into the restaurant.
Naomi saw him immediately.
He didn't look like Victor Langley.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Victor dressed to be seen.
Daniel dressed to disappear.
Dark gray jacket.
Plain black shirt.
No visible jewelry.
No expensive watch.
No assistant.
No security guard.
He carried nothing except a slim leather folder.
He paused just inside the entrance.
Not because he was uncertain where to go.
Because he was observing.
Naomi recognized the behavior.
She had seen it before.
Years ago.
Before she became a waitress.
Before the restaurant.
Before she learned to hide parts of herself.
Daniel's eyes moved across the room.
Entrance.
Bar.
Kitchen.
Emergency exit.
Dining area.
People.
He did it quickly.
Most people wouldn't have noticed.
Naomi did.
When their eyes met, Daniel looked away first.
Interesting.
A hostess approached him.
“Mr. Cross?”
He nodded.
“Private dining room.”
She led him toward the back.
Naomi waited ten seconds.
Then followed.
Victor watched from Table Twelve.
She could feel his eyes on her.
Inside the private dining room, Daniel sat at the far end of a long table.
Naomi approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Cross.”
Daniel looked up.
“Naomi?”
She stopped.
“You know me?”
“No.”
He glanced at her name tag.
“Your name tag.”
Naomi almost smiled.
“Right.”
He looked at the menu.
“I don't need anything yet.”
“No problem.”
She turned.
“Wait.”
She looked back.
“Why are you nervous?”
The question caught her completely off guard.
“I'm not.”
Daniel studied her.
“You're holding your order pad too tightly.”
Naomi looked down.
He was right.
She loosened her fingers.
“Long day.”
Daniel nodded.
“That's believable.”
He returned to the menu.
Naomi left.
She stepped into the hallway and exhaled.
This was not going to be easy.
From the doorway, Victor watched her.
“How's it going?”
Naomi whispered, “He noticed immediately.”
Victor smiled.
“Then you're already losing.”
Naomi ignored him.
She went back to the kitchen.
Five minutes later, she returned with water.
Daniel hadn't touched his menu.
“You're not ordering?”
“Not yet.”
“Waiting for someone?”
“No.”
“Then why come here?”
Daniel looked up.
That question had been too direct.
Naomi realized it immediately.
She smiled.
“I'm sorry. That was rude.”
“No.”
Daniel's expression remained neutral.
“It was honest.”
Naomi placed the water down.
“Most people don't come to a restaurant just to sit alone.”
“Most people aren't me.”
She smiled.
“That's true.”
Daniel finally picked up the menu.
“What's good?”
Naomi considered him.
“The salmon.”
“Everyone says the salmon.”
“Because it's good.”
“Or because it's expensive?”
Naomi smiled.
“You don't strike me as someone who worries about the price.”
For the first time, something changed in his expression.
Not anger.
Recognition.
“You're observant.”
“So are you.”
Daniel leaned back.
“Who sent you?”
Naomi froze.
“Nobody.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
Daniel watched her.
“Then why are you here?”
Naomi could have lied.
Instead, she told him the truth.