“The staffing threshold is manageable.”
“The transition committee is irritating.”
“Then it’s probably useful.”
The billionaire frowned.
The CFO sat opposite him.
For twenty-three years he had been one of the few people allowed to do that without being invited.
The billionaire looked toward the city beyond the windows.
“Do you think they respect us less after dinner?”
The CFO did not pretend not to understand.
“The Americans?”
“Yes.”
“Some probably did.”
The billionaire’s jaw tightened.
The CFO continued before he could object.
“And some probably respected us more after you accepted the revised workforce provision instead of turning the meeting into a test of pride.”
The billionaire looked toward him.
“That was not because of the waitress.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking Manhattan.”
The billionaire groaned.
The CFO smiled.
The phrase had already begun to spread among the inner circle.
Manhattan.
A single word for the moment their CEO discovered that certainty could be expensive.
“I hate that.”
“Good.”
The billionaire leaned back.
“When I was younger, no one would have spoken to me this way.”
“When you were younger, you had less power.”
The billionaire looked at him.
The CFO shrugged.
“People become careful around power.”
“That is not always respect.”
The billionaire said nothing.
The CFO continued.
“The larger you became, the fewer people corrected you.”
“That’s their weakness.”
“Sometimes.”
“And sometimes it’s yours.”
Silence.
The billionaire stared at the signed agreement again.
Then said quietly:
“She could have damaged us.”
The CFO nodded.
“The interpreter?”
“She heard us at dinner.”
“Yes.”
“She heard the integration discussion.”
“Yes.”
“She said nothing.”
“Correct.”
“Why?”
The CFO smiled.
“You asked her.”
“She gave me an ethical explanation.”
“Did you believe her?”
The billionaire took a long time.
“Yes.”
“That bothers you?”
“No.”
“What bothers you?”
The CEO looked down at his own hands.
“That I’m impressed she did something I should have assumed a professional would do.”
The CFO stopped smiling.
There.
That was more honest.
The billionaire continued.
“I treated her as if competence had to surprise me.”
The CFO said nothing.
“And then when she behaved with integrity, I treated integrity as exceptional.”
He shook his head.
“That may be worse.”
The CFO leaned forward.
“Then remember it.”
“That’s your advice?”
“Yes.”
“No speech?”
“You’ve had enough speeches this week.”
The billionaire almost laughed.
The CFO stood.
At the door he looked back.
“Go home.”
“This isn’t home.”
“You know what I mean.”
The billionaire nodded.
The CFO left.
The room became quiet again.
On the table beside the signed agreement rested one abandoned interpretation headset.
Not hers.