Mr. Zhang then turned to Maya, taking a crisp business card from his jacket pocket and presenting it to her with both hands—a gesture of profound respect in Chinese culture.
"Miss Lin-Brooks," Mr. Zhang said warmly. "My international firm is currently expanding its cultural liaison and translation division in San Francisco. We require a Director of Global Communications. The starting salary is $250,000 per year, with full research funding for your doctoral studies."
He smiled kindly at her. "If you are interested, please call my office tomorrow morning."
Maya looked at the card, then looked at Mr. Zhang. She bowed her head respectfully.
"Thank you, Mr. Zhang," Maya said softly in pristine Mandarin. "I would be honored to accept your invitation."
She turned back to Richard Vance, who looked smaller and more broken than he ever had in his life.
Maya reached out, picked up her notepad and pen from her apron, and looked down at him with professional composure.
"Now, Mr. Vance," Maya said calmly in English, her voice carrying over the quiet room. "May I finally take your dinner order?"
Vance stared at her, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word. He slowly reached down, grabbed his wallet and cash, stood up from the table, and walked out of the restaurant in complete silence, his head bowed low as he passed through the standing crowd.
Maya tucked her pen behind her ear, folded her linen napkin over her arm, and smiled warmly at the remaining guests at table 12.
"Whenever you are ready, gentlemen," she said softly. "Tonight's special is extraordinary."