"On whether you believe people only matter when you think they do," Naomi replied.
Leonard shook his head, smiling like she'd just proven his point. "See, that right there? That's the problem. You're making this personal."
Naomi met his eyes. "You made it personal when you decided who I was before you asked."
Leonard's smile faded. "Look," he said, voice lowering. "I don't have time for this. We're talking about real money, serious players."
Naomi didn't look away. "So am I."
Leonard laughed again, louder this time. "Sure you are."
The words weren't shouted. They didn't need to be. They carried the same weight as every other time someone had said them to her, with a smile that didn't include respect. Naomi felt that old familiar heat rise in her chest. She didn't let it reach her face. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out a slim notebook. She opened it, picked up her pen, and made a small mark on the page.
Leonard noticed. "What's that?" he asked.
Naomi didn't answer.
He leaned closer. "Are you taking notes now?"
"Yes," she said.
"For who?" Leonard asked.
Naomi looked up. "For myself."
Leonard straightened, irritation flashing across his face. "You know what?" he said. "I think this has gone far enough. We've been more than accommodating."
"Accommodating?" Naomi closed the notebook.
"Let me be clear," Leonard continued. "This isn't how serious business gets done. We don't slow things down for feelings."
Naomi stood. Not abruptly, not dramatically, just enough to shift the energy in the room. "I agree," she said calmly. "Serious business doesn't get slowed down by feelings."
Leonard folded his arms. "Good."
Naomi picked up her bag. "It gets slowed down by patterns."