Elena nodded.
“Sometimes.”
He studied her.
“What do you mean by fluent?”
“I can discuss ordinary matters, academic subjects, and professional topics in Spanish without difficulty.”
Antoine raised his eyebrows.
“Academic subjects?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward his guests.
Then smiled.
“Well, this is interesting.”
Elena felt the atmosphere changing.
She recognized the expression.
It was the same expression people wore when they believed someone had accidentally made a claim they could expose.
Antoine continued.
“Perhaps we should test that confidence.”
Inés Valcárcel looked up.
“Antoine, there's no need.”
But he waved one hand.
“It's only a little fun.”
He turned back toward Elena.
“Tell me, young lady, how much do you earn in a month?”
The question made the table uncomfortable.
Elena answered carefully.
“My salary is a private matter, monsieur.”
Antoine laughed.
“Very diplomatic.”
He looked toward his guests.
Then announced the wager.
“One hundred thousand dollars if you can speak Spanish as fluently as you claim.”
Several people laughed nervously.
Elena didn't.
Because she understood exactly what the man was doing.
He hadn't offered money because he wanted to reward knowledge.
He had offered it because he believed humiliation would be entertaining.
And because he'd spent his life assuming his wealth gave him the right to turn other people into spectacles.
Elena looked toward him.
Then quietly placed her notepad beside the wine bottle.
“All right, monsieur.”
Antoine blinked.
“All right?”
She nodded.
“I accept.”
And that was how the most powerful man at the table made the mistake of challenging a woman whose work he had been trying not to discuss.
Antoine Delcourt stared at Elena for a moment, trying to determine whether she understood the magnitude of what she'd accepted.
One hundred thousand dollars was a sum he could spend on a weekend without altering his finances. To the young woman standing beside his chair, he assumed it represented several years of wages. That imbalance was part of what amused him.
“You seem remarkably confident,” he said.
Elena looked at him calmly.
“I understand the terms you proposed.”
Antoine smiled. “And you understand that I decide whether you've passed?”
“No, monsieur.”
The answer caught him by surprise.
A man near the end of the table lowered his glass.
Antoine narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“If you decide whether I pass, then the challenge has no objective standard,” Elena answered politely. “You could simply declare that my Spanish wasn't good enough regardless of how I performed.”