"She Can't Speak Chinese!" Millionaire Laughed — Then the Black Waitress Spoke
Chapter 26
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Grace looked at Richard. "Based on the discrepancy she just found in your own executive summary."That ended the laughter.A few diners at nearby tables were openly watching now. Thomas Reed had moved closer. Emily stood near the service station, her face tight with shame over her earlier silence. Laura's hands were clasped together.Richard looked down at the tablet: six months, 12 months, two versions, one project, $120 million.Daniel tapped the table once. "Richard."Richard did not respond.Daniel repeated his name. Richard looked up."If one discrepancy exists in the executive summary," Daniel said, "we need to know whether others exist in the underlying materials."Richard's expression tightened. "You're not seriously suggesting we conduct document review in a restaurant.""No." Grace closed her folder. "I'm suggesting we stop pretending this is a restaurant problem."Richard stared at her.Grace looked at Maya. "Miss Brooks, I need to ask you one more thing."Maya waited."Did you keep copies of the comparisons you made?"Maya glanced at H-17. "Notes.""How many?""Several pages."Richard pushed back from the table. "This is absurd." His chair legs scraped against the wood; the sound cut through the room.Daniel remained seated. "So is asking us for $120 million while admitting you don't know which relocation commitments were actually distributed."Richard froze. There it was: the balance of power tipping farther. Not because Maya had revealed a hidden title, not because she owned the company, not because she had been secretly wealthy—because she had paid attention when powerful people had not.Grace picked up her tablet. "Tomorrow morning, I want every English and Mandarin relocation notice connected to Pier 17."Richard's mouth tightened. "And if the versions don't match?"Grace did not answer immediately. Daniel did: "Then tonight's dinner becomes the least expensive problem you have."Richard stared at Maya. For the first time since she approached his table, there was no contempt in his face; there was fear.Maya took no pleasure in it, because if H-17 had been right once, there was a worse question waiting for everyone at that table: How many other lines did not match?Grace Chen opened the Pier 17 files again. This time, no one at table 12 was pretending dinner mattered.The entrées sat cooling beneath the amber lights. A thin ribbon of steam still rose from Daniel's plate, but he had not touched it. Outside, rain traced long silver lines down the glass, and the ferries moving across Elliott Bay looked like distant lanterns drifting through darkness.Grace scrolled slowly. "Notice period," she said.Richard Hale's shoulders tightened. "What about it?"Grace turned the tablet slightly toward Maya. "English version says 30 days."