Watanabe spoke in English. "Mr. Mercer, perhaps he has heard something your advisers have not."
Grant produced a professional smile. "I appreciate everyone's enthusiasm, Chairman, but we have specialists upstairs for precisely these questions. If there is an issue, we'll resolve it there."
"We have tried," Tanaka said.
Grant's smile barely moved. "And we will keep trying."
That was when Victoria Bennett came through the glass doors. She wore a charcoal suit, carried no umbrella despite the drizzle, and moved at the brisk, economical pace of a woman accustomed to interruptions but unwilling to indulge unnecessary ones. Two assistants followed with folders. At forty-eight, Victoria had been chief executive for six years and had spent much of that time rebuilding a company whose ambitious acquisitions had left its internal systems less coherent than its annual reports suggested. She knew what the Mizuhara partnership could mean for factories, employees, and shareholders. She also knew the board expected her to return from this meeting with an answer.
"Chairman Watanabe," she said warmly. "Welcome. I hope your journey was comfortable."
"Very comfortable," he answered. "Your driver took excellent care of us."
Victoria noticed the stillness around them. Grant's shoulders were rigid, Tanaka was holding his briefcase rather than passing it to an assistant, and Fujimori was studying the man in the gray jacket. "Has something happened?" she asked.
"There was a brief conversation," Grant said. "Nothing we can't address upstairs."
Watanabe turned toward Daniel. "Your employee understands our concern more clearly than your negotiating team has managed to describe it."
Victoria followed his gaze to the temporary badge. "Mr. Carter?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What did you say?"
"That the disagreement is not principally financial. Your guests feel the proposed governance structure makes their advice optional, even when their people will live with the consequences. They've tried to explain that. Our responses have emphasized how the contract protects Bennett's decision-making authority."
Grant made a soft sound of disbelief. "Victoria, he's heard half a conversation outside a building."
"Did you hear enough to believe they intended to leave?" Victoria asked Daniel.
Daniel glanced at Watanabe, unwilling to turn a private conversation into gossip without acknowledging its owner. Watanabe gave the smallest nod. "They were discussing leaving before noon," Daniel answered. "Their recommendation to Tokyo was already unfavorable."
Victoria turned to the chairman. "Is that correct?"
"It was," Watanabe said. "I had hoped we would not need to make it public."
For a moment the whole entrance seemed to withdraw from the conversation. The traffic, the fountain inside the glass doors, the click of an assistant's shoes, all of it became background to the fact that a transaction called transformational in the morning's briefing could have been over before its executives opened the first binder. Victoria looked at Daniel again. This time she saw not the badge but the care with which he had distinguished what he knew from what he had inferred. That habit impressed her more than the unexpected Japanese.
"Come upstairs with us," she said.
Grant turned sharply. "Victoria, he's a temporary driver."
"I'm aware of how we hired him."
Daniel looked toward the Navigator. "My instructions are to remain available for transportation. Jessie will need to know if the assignment changes."