Sun-hee examined the plans.
For several minutes, she asked detailed questions.
Could the interim rooms accommodate drums?
Would children have safe access?
Would the center retain its existing tuition policies?
Who would pay for moving instruments?
And what would happen if construction ran late?
Elaine answered honestly where she could.
Where terms remained uncertain, she said so.
Nia appreciated that.
She'd seen too many polished promises presented as though uncertainty didn't exist.
Now the people responsible for the project were beginning to discuss the actual work required.
But Holloway wasn't satisfied.
He looked toward the revised financial projections.
Then shook his head.
"This isn't the deal I brought to the table."
Min-jae studied him.
For a moment, he remained quiet.
Then answered.
"Neither was the program you promised me."
The disagreement became serious.
Holloway argued that investors couldn't expect an expensive residential development to operate like a charitable organization.
Min-jae agreed.
He wasn't asking the project to ignore financial realities.
But he had agreed to consider the investment partly because the development claimed to support music education.
If preserving that educational function required more money or a different structure, the costs had to be reflected honestly.
Holloway leaned forward.
"You're asking me to sacrifice profit for a handful of music classes."
Nia felt her face grow warm.
Before she could respond, Sun-hee spoke.
"Mr. Holloway, those classes aren't a handful to the families who depend on them."
The millionaire sighed.
"I'm not saying they don't matter."
The older woman looked toward him.
"Then please stop talking as though they don't."
The room became silent.
Holloway stared.
For a moment, he seemed ready to explode.
Then Elaine cleared her throat and began discussing alternative sources of financing, phased returns, and possible involvement by cultural nonprofit partners.
The conversation returned to practical matters.
But the tension remained.
The development could survive.
The music center could survive.
Yet the arrangement would require Holloway to accept that his original plan was inadequate.
And accepting that meant admitting the waitress he'd mocked had identified a problem he preferred not to see.
That evening, Holloway went home angry.
His penthouse overlooked the river, with polished stone floors, expensive furniture, and enormous windows framing the city.
He poured a drink.
Then stood beside the glass.
For decades, he'd measured success through projects completed, profits earned, and the number of people willing to take his calls.
He remembered starting with a small construction firm and struggling to persuade banks to finance his first development.