"And when they didn't give me the answer I wanted, I treated them as though they were obstructing me."
Nia remained silent.
Then she asked.
"Do you understand why that mattered beyond the transaction?"
Victor considered the question.
For a moment, he seemed uncertain.
Then he looked toward the restaurant staff moving in the background.
"I think I do."
Nia waited.
He continued.
"If people are afraid to tell the truth because of how I'll react, then I don't actually know what's happening in my own company."
She nodded slowly.
"That's part of it."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Nia looked directly at him.
"Your apology doesn't change what happened to my mother's signature."
Victor's expression tightened.
"I know."
"And it doesn't resolve the responsibilities of anyone involved."
He nodded.
"No."
She took a breath.
"But I appreciate you acknowledging how you treated me."
For a moment, he looked relieved.
Nia continued.
"I hope you treat the next waitress differently."
Victor gave a small, sad smile.
"I intend to."
She stood.
Then extended her hand.
Victor shook it.
Neither pretended the conversation had repaired everything.
But the apology had been specific.
And Nia accepted it for what it was.
No more.
No less.
Nia's final shift at the restaurant came almost six months later.
She hadn't been forced to leave.
Mei hadn't suggested that the job was beneath her.
And the growing responsibilities associated with the stewardship arrangement hadn't suddenly made restaurant work something she was ashamed to discuss.
But Nia had accepted a full-time position with an independent corporate governance and financial-risk advisory organization.
The role allowed her to use her education, transaction experience, and knowledge of governance systems while continuing her formally defined responsibilities to the founders' arrangement.
It was the kind of career she'd once imagined beginning before Lorraine became ill.
Now, years later, she finally had the opportunity to pursue it.
She told Mei about the offer on a Tuesday afternoon.
The older woman listened.
Then smiled.
"You're taking it."
Nia laughed.
"That obvious?"
Mei nodded.
"You've been waiting to use everything you've learned."
Nia looked toward the dining room.
For a moment, she felt unexpectedly sad.
"I'll miss this place."
Mei shrugged.
"Then come back for dinner."
Nia smiled.
"I will."
The restaurant owner leaned forward.
"And don't you dare come back acting like you're too important to wait for a table."
Nia burst out laughing.
"I wouldn't survive five minutes."
Mei grinned.
"Exactly."
Then her expression softened.
"I'm proud of you."
Nia's eyes filled.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Mei embraced her.