Then the billionaire answered.
“The certificate was an error.”
Naomi looked toward him.
“Then why was the warning ignored?”
Graham's expression hardened.
“I'm not here to be interrogated by you.”
Miriam spoke calmly.
“Mr. Whitlock, my client is asking a question directly related to the proposed resolution.”
Graham glanced toward his attorney.
Then looked back at Naomi.
For a moment, his face seemed older.
“I built companies from nothing,” he said. “I've had to make decisions people with comfortable lives couldn't understand.”
Naomi felt anger rise.
She thought about her mother's medical bills.
The jobs that disappeared.
The nights she took the subway home after cleaning offices filled with people who never looked at her face.
She held his gaze.
“Mr. Whitlock, you don't know anything about how comfortable my life has been.”
He looked away.
Naomi continued.
“You called me a maid as though the word proved I wasn't intelligent enough to recognize my father's name.”
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then she asked.
“Would you have listened if I'd worn a designer suit?”
Graham didn't answer.
She took a breath.
“Would you have listened if I were white? Or wealthy? Or a lawyer from the firm your company pays millions?”
His expression tightened.
“I don't discriminate.”
Naomi studied him.
Then answered.
“Your behavior in that room told me you decided what I knew before I finished speaking.”
For a moment, the billionaire seemed ready to argue.
Then he stopped.
Naomi continued.
“My uniform didn't change the date on that certificate. Your assumptions just made you less willing to hear me point it out.”
The room was silent.
For the first time since they met, Graham had no immediate insult prepared.
Then Naomi looked toward the settlement materials.
“I won't sign away rights I haven't fully understood. I won't approve false representations. And I won't pretend the way you treated me was acceptable just because a large amount of money is involved.”
She stood.
Miriam gathered her papers.
Graham looked toward her.
“Miss Carter.”
Naomi stopped.
For a moment, she wondered whether he might finally apologize.
Instead, he asked.
“Do you really think you can protect a company this large from the market?”
She considered the question.
Then answered.
“No.”
Graham frowned.
She continued.
“I'm trying to protect it from people who believe the market excuses them from telling the truth.”
Then she walked out.
Graham remained sitting.
For several seconds, he stared toward the empty chair.