Then calculation.
Then anger.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The waitress turned toward the senior chairman.
In Arabic again:
“The document says the American company may issue additional voting shares after closing without unanimous investor approval. Your team discussed the opposite.”
The senior chairman's eyes narrowed.
The man beside him reached immediately for the leather folder.
The CEO grabbed it first.
“That is enough.”
His voice was no longer playful.
The waitress watched his hand close over the folder.
The senior chairman watched too.
“Give me the contract.”
The CEO smiled stiffly.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
“Give me the contract.”
The tone left no room for negotiation.
The CEO released it.
The chairman opened the folder.
The younger executive beside him leaned closer.
Pages turned quickly.
The CEO began speaking.
“There were technical revisions after legal review.”
The chairman ignored him.
The waitress looked toward the page numbers.
She had seen the relevant language upside down while pouring water.
The chairman found Section Twelve.
His eyes moved.
Then stopped.
The younger executive beside him pointed to a paragraph.
He said something in Arabic too quietly for the CEO to hear.
The chairman turned another page.
Then another.
His expression became colder.
The CEO raised one hand.
“We can explain every change.”
The chairman looked up.
“Who is ‘we’?”
The CEO hesitated.
“Our legal team.”
“Did my legal team approve this version?”
“They received—”
“That was not my question.”
The CEO’s jaw tightened.
The waitress had seen men like him before.
Powerful enough that most conversations adapted around them.
He was accustomed to choosing the frame.
This table no longer belonged to him.
A senior legal adviser from the investor group reached across.
“Show me the signature page.”
The chairman handed him the folder.
The adviser flipped backward.
Then stopped.
“No.”
The CEO said:
“What?”
“This is not the redline.”
“It is the final execution copy.”
“No.”
The adviser looked toward the chairman.
“This schedule was not in the version circulated yesterday.”
The CEO leaned forward.
“There were late revisions.”
“By whom?”
“Our counsel.”
“Without our written acceptance?”
The CEO’s voice hardened.
“That is normal in negotiations.”
“No,” the adviser said. “It is not.”
The waitress remained beside the service stand.
Every instinct from years of hospitality work told her to leave.
The room had become a legal battlefield.
She had already said too much.
Maybe far too much.
Her hotel manager was going to have a heart attack.