Masaru frowned.
"A foreigner?"
Sachiko kept her voice calm.
"She is highly experienced."
The billionaire gave an amused laugh.
"Interesting."
Then he looked toward Amara.
"Can you understand Japanese?"
She bowed.
"はい、もちろんでございます。"
Yes, certainly.
Masaru smiled.
But it wasn't a pleasant smile.
It was the expression of a man who had found something he expected to enjoy at someone else's expense.
"Well, this should be entertaining."
Kenji looked uncomfortable.
Sachiko's eyes hardened.
Amara remained composed.
Then she began serving the first course.
For nearly twenty minutes, everything proceeded normally.
Amara introduced each dish.
Answered questions.
And moved through the room with graceful efficiency.
Kenji complimented the seasonal vegetables.
Masaru barely acknowledged them.
He seemed increasingly interested in testing the waitress's language skills.
He began using more elaborate expressions.
Then technical culinary terms.
Then intentionally obscure references to traditional dining customs.
Amara answered naturally.
Every time.
Masaru's amusement turned into irritation.
He had expected her to struggle.
Instead, she sounded more polished than the people he normally hired to impress important guests.
When the soup course arrived, he finally lost patience.
He pointed toward the lacquer bowl.
Then demanded an explanation so technical that even Kenji looked surprised.
Amara answered.
And the room changed.
Because she didn't merely know the terminology.
She understood the food.
The philosophy.
The cultural history.
And the specific choices Chef Ayaka had made that evening.
Masaru could hear it.
Which made him angrier.
He had challenged a woman he assumed knew nothing.
And she had answered with the authority of someone who knew far more than he did.
What followed was no longer about cuisine.
It was about his pride.
And when he shoved the tray and called her a servant, he revealed exactly how little he understood the place he wanted to own.
Masaru remained standing beside the table, staring at Amara as though refusing to believe her might somehow change the ownership records.
"You expect me to believe that a foreign waitress owns Kiyomizu Hana?"
Amara didn't raise her voice.
"I don't require your belief. The company register and signed acquisition documents are available through the appropriate channels."
Kenji slowly turned toward her.
"Amara Reed?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
His expression changed.
"Hana Heritage Dining?"
"My company."
He looked toward the billionaire.
"Chairman, her name appears on the ownership documentation."
Masaru snapped toward him.
"Then why wasn't I told?"
Kenji looked stunned.
"You were given the beneficial ownership information as part of the preliminary due diligence materials."
The billionaire's face reddened.
"I was told the business was controlled by private investors."
"It is privately owned," Kenji replied carefully. "By Ms. Reed."