Aurelia was the kind of restaurant where the prices weren't listed on the menu and the wait staff appeared and disappeared with ghostly precision. James arrived with Victoria precisely at seven forty-five, fifteen minutes before the reservation. She insisted on arriving first to any business dinner—a power move that established her as the host regardless of who had issued the invitation.
"Mr. Petrov's car is ten minutes out," James informed her as they were escorted to the private dining room. "His assistant says they're coming directly from their hotel."
Victoria nodded, surveying the room with a critical eye. The orchid arrangements met with her approval, as did the lighting and table setting. She moved a single water glass two inches to the left, perfecting the symmetry of the table.
"Remember," she said quietly, "Petrov responds to confidence and directness. His CFO, Baranov, is the cautious one. If Baranov starts asking about risk mitigation, redirect to long-term value."
"And Mrs. Petrov?"
"Is sharper than both of them and frequently influences her husband's decisions after the fact. Don't underestimate her because she discusses art instead of business."
James nodded, making a mental note to pay particular attention to Anastasia Petrov's reactions throughout the evening.
When the Petrov's arrived, Victoria transformed. The cool, demanding CEO became a warm, engaging hostess. She greeted Mikhail Petrov with exactly the right balance of professional respect and personal warmth, complimented Anastasia's statement necklace with genuine appreciation, and managed to reference a recent economic paper that Baranov had contributed to within the first three minutes of conversation.
James watched in fascination. This was Victoria at her most effective—reading the room perfectly, adapting her approach to each person without seeming calculated. It was a masterclass in business charm, and despite having seen it many times, he remained impressed.
As drinks were served, Victoria smoothly introduced James. "And this is James Mitchell, my executive assistant and strategic advisor. James has been instrumental in developing the partnership proposal we'll be discussing."
The introduction was generous, elevating his status for the dinner. Petrov nodded respectfully, and Baranov immediately engaged him in questions about market projections—clearly testing whether this "assistant" actually had strategic knowledge.
James fielded the questions easily, having thoroughly prepared for this exact scenario. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Victoria's slight nod of approval as he guided the conversation toward the unique value proposition Sharp Innovations was offering Petrov's company.
The first course arrived, an artistic arrangement of seafood that looked too beautiful to eat. Anastasia commented on its presentation, which led to a discussion of Japanese aesthetic principles, which Victoria navigated with surprising knowledge. James made a mental note of this previously unknown interest of hers.
As the meal progressed, the conversation flowed between business and culture, strategy and personal anecdotes. Victoria controlled the rhythm masterfully, ensuring business points landed at the right moments without making the dinner feel transactional. Under the table, her foot occasionally tapped James's when she wanted him to emphasize a particular point or redirect the conversation.
It was an intimate form of communication they'd developed over months of these dinners—silent signals that allowed them to work in perfect tandem. A tap on his right foot meant "elaborate on this point." A tap on his left meant "change the subject." Two quick taps meant "handle this question while I observe their reaction."
By the main course, Petrov was already showing signs of being won over, leaning forward eagerly as Victoria outlined the third-quarter implementation strategy. Baranov remained skeptical but engaged, his questions becoming more specific rather than oppositional. Anastasia, meanwhile, had been quietly observing James, her shrewd eyes missing nothing.
"Tell me, Mr. Mitchell," she said during a lull as the plates were being cleared, "how long have you worked with Victoria?"
"Almost three years," James replied.
"And before that?"
"I was with McKinsey."
Anastasia's eyebrows rose slightly. "From consulting to an assistant position? That's an unusual career path."
The question was pointed, designed to either unsettle him or extract information about Victoria's management style. James smiled politely.
"Working directly with Victoria offers insights and opportunities that traditional roles don't provide. I learn more in a week here than I did in months at McKinsey."
"He's being modest," Victoria interjected smoothly. "James turned down an associate director position to join Sharp Innovations. He recognized the value of proximity to decision-making over a flashy title."
The subtle emphasis on "proximity to decision-making" was Victoria's way of highlighting to Petrov what he would gain by partnering with Sharp Innovations—direct access to her expertise rather than being handed off to junior team members.
Petrov nodded appreciatively. "A strategic thinker. I respect that." He glanced between Victoria and James with a knowing look that made James uncomfortable. "You two work well together. Almost as if you can read each other's minds."
Victoria smiled diplomatically. "Effective professional relationships are built on clear communication and aligned goals. Speaking of which, shall we discuss the implementation timeline while we wait for dessert?"
The redirection was seamless, but James noticed Anastasia's lingering gaze. She had caught the deflection and found it interesting. When she eventually turned her attention back to the conversation, her eyes held a new speculation that made James wary.
As dessert and coffee were served, Victoria guided the conversation toward closing. She had timed it perfectly—Petrov was engaged but not exhausted, the mood was positive, and the most critical questions had been addressed. She presented the gift to Anastasia with exactly the right balance of professional courtesy and personal thoughtfulness.
Anastasia's genuine delight at the art book—and her surprise at finding it signed by her former colleague—was the final touch needed. As she exclaimed over the book, Petrov leaned toward Victoria.
"I think we have the outline of an excellent partnership, Ms. Sharp. Have your team send over the revised proposal by Monday, and we'll move forward."
Victoria didn't smile triumphantly or show any sign that this was exactly what she'd been orchestrating all evening. She simply nodded with dignified satisfaction. "I'm pleased we see the same potential, Mikhail. You won't regret this decision."
After the Petrov's departed, Victoria remained seated, sipping the last of her espresso. James waited, knowing from experience that she liked a moment to decompress after these high-stakes dinners.
"That went well," he offered after a suitable pause.
"It did." Victoria set down her cup. "Baranov will still try to renegotiate the financial terms, but Petrov is sold on the concept." She glanced at James. "You handled Anastasia's probing well."
"She was trying to determine if there's something personal between us," James said, deciding directness was best. "Petrov's comment about mind-reading suggested the same."
Victoria's expression didn't change. "People often assume women in power sleep with their male subordinates. It's tedious but predictable."
"Is that why you typically bring female assistants to these dinners?"
"Partly." Victoria stood, smoothing her dress. "Though in this case, Petrov responds better to male voices on technical matters. Old-fashioned sexism works in our favor occasionally."
James rose as well, suddenly aware of how alone they were in the private dining room. "Should I be concerned about the impression we left?"
Victoria considered him for a moment, her blue eyes unreadable. "No. Any speculation serves our purposes. Petrov will be more inclined to close quickly if he thinks he's gaining insight into my inner circle."
The cool calculation was so typically Victoria that James almost laughed. Of course she would see even mistaken assumptions about her personal life as tactical advantages.
The car was waiting when they emerged from the restaurant. Victoria slid into the back seat with practiced grace, James following. As the driver pulled into traffic, she kicked off her heels with a small sigh—a rare display of physical vulnerability she allowed only in the privacy of her car after successful dinners.
"Have the team start on the revised proposal tonight," she said, scrolling through emails on her phone. "Petrov will expect it first thing Monday regardless of what I promised."
"Already texted Daniel. He's assembling a weekend work group."
Victoria nodded absently, then set her phone down and leaned her head back against the seat. In the dim light of the car, with her eyes closed briefly, she looked almost human—tired after a long performance, the weight of constant perfection momentarily set aside.
"You did well tonight," she said, eyes still closed. "The point you made about adaptive implementation strategies was exactly what Baranov needed to hear."
The compliment, delivered without qualifiers or backhanded components, caught James off guard. "Thank you."