Then she searched for its relationship to the waterfront project.
The results were incomplete, but one public document connected the entity to a financing arrangement involving infrastructure costs.
Another document referred to a guarantee that would become effective if certain milestones were not achieved by a specified date.
Naomi leaned closer to the screen.
The date was less than three weeks away.
She checked the project announcement again.
It described the financing as secure.
She looked at the guarantee document.
Then she opened a new note.
Potential discrepancy between public description of funding status and conditions attached to infrastructure financing. Requires underlying documents and qualified legal/financial review. Do not draw conclusions yet.
She saved the note.
For several minutes, she sat perfectly still.
She had come to the meeting hoping to determine whether Victor's behavior was merely difficult or whether it reflected a more serious reluctance to permit scrutiny.
She had not expected to find another question.
Now she had two.
And both appeared to be connected to a deadline that was approaching far too quickly.
The Dinner That Changed Everything
The invitation arrived on Wednesday morning.
It was delivered to Silver Pines in a cream envelope bearing the logo of Hale Urban Holdings.
Daniel handed it to Naomi during the quiet period between breakfast and lunch.
“Looks official,” he said.
Naomi opened it.
Inside was a printed invitation to a private dinner at a downtown hotel. The event was scheduled for Friday evening and would include Victor Hale, representatives of the Shanghai investment group, several executives from Hale Urban Holdings, and invited financial advisers.
A handwritten note appeared at the bottom.
Ms. Carter,
I hope you will join us. We have made progress on the terms you raised. I believe your perspective could be valuable.
Victor
Naomi read it twice.
Daniel leaned against the counter.
“Is he trying to hire you again?”
“Apparently.”
“Are you going?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel folded his arms.
“You've been thinking about this project for days.”
“I know.”
“And you keep telling me you don't want anything to do with it.”
“I haven't said that.”
“You said you don't want to work for Victor Hale.”
“That is different.”
Daniel considered this.
“Fair point.”
Naomi looked at the invitation.
She wanted to know what was happening with the financing. She wanted to understand why Richard Cole had looked so troubled during their meeting. She wanted to determine whether the company had corrected the questions she had raised.
But attending the dinner could be interpreted as accepting an advisory role she had not agreed to.
She called Richard Cole.
He answered after two rings.
“Ms. Carter. Good morning.”
“I received an invitation to Friday's dinner.”
“Yes. I asked for it to be sent.”
“Does that mean the reporting conditions have changed?”
“We've revised the draft.”
“May I see it before deciding whether to attend?”
“Of course. I'll send it this afternoon.”
Naomi paused.
“Mr. Cole, I want to be clear that I'm not accepting a consulting engagement simply by attending dinner.”
“I understand.”
“And I won't discuss confidential information unless the appropriate arrangements are in place.”
“That's reasonable.”
She heard papers moving on his desk.
“May I ask you something?” he said.
“Certainly.”
“Have you spoken to anyone else about the financing structure?”
“No. I've reviewed publicly available documents.”
“Nothing beyond that?”
“No.”
Richard was silent for a moment.
“Thank you for clarifying.”
The conversation ended shortly afterward.
Naomi stared at her phone.
His questions had been oddly specific.
She wondered whether someone had accused her of obtaining information she was not entitled to see.
Or whether the company had begun to realize that the public documents themselves raised questions.
The revised contract arrived at 3:14 p.m.
Naomi read it carefully.
The language had improved.
The company would retain the right to review her work for factual accuracy, confidentiality, and completeness. It could not remove a material finding merely because it disagreed with the conclusion.
That was progress.
But one sentence still troubled her.
The report would be delivered to Hale Urban Holdings' executive committee, which would determine whether and how it should be shared with outside parties.
Naomi called Richard again.
“I'm looking at section six.”
“So am I,” he replied.
“Who determines whether the findings reach the investors?”
“The executive committee.”
“Would the committee be required to provide the full report to them?”
“Not automatically.”
“Then my concern remains.”
Richard sighed.
“I expected you to say that.”
“I'm sorry.”
“No, you're not.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“No, I'm not.”
For the first time, Richard laughed.
It was brief, but genuine.
“You know, Ms. Carter, you would have been very difficult to manage in my first job.”
“I suspect I would have been difficult to manage in several jobs.”
“Perhaps. But I think your point is fair.”
“Can the contract specify that any material finding relevant to the investors' decision must be communicated to them, subject to appropriate confidentiality protections?”
“I'll raise it.”
“Thank you.”
He paused.
“There is something else you should know about Friday's dinner.”
Naomi waited.
“Victor wants you there because the investors have asked questions about the project's financial assumptions. He believes your language skills will help.”
“And what do you believe?”
“I believe the investors have concerns that go beyond language.”
Naomi sat straighter.
“Such as?”
“I can't discuss the details until the appropriate arrangements are in place.”
“Understood.”
Richard continued.
“But I will say this: if you attend, please don't feel obligated to agree with anyone simply because they are senior to you.”
Naomi was quiet for a moment.