Daniel hummed with skepticism, glancing at the empty chairs around him. Nobody was there yet. He still felt he was figuring out the dynamics of the office's social scene, even as he engaged in jokes and banter. While everyone wore friendly Western-style smiles, his lunch invitation on the first day seemed more of an outlier. After that initial invite, it appeared they preferred to remain within their established cliques. The mandatory team dinners didn't quite fulfill the need for genuine camaraderie. While Daniel wasn't aiming to be the office's center of attention, fostering relationships with colleagues was important. With a resigned sigh, he pocketed his cell phones and card holder.

The frosted glass door swung open abruptly, revealing Pavel's characteristic brisk entrance. His face lit up with a web of wrinkles as he spotted Daniel and exclaimed with enthusiasm, extending his hand for a handshake, "Ah, there you are! I was just about to fetch you for lunch. We'll go over our action plan. I messaged you earlier but didn't get a response."

"Really?" Daniel asked, a bit puzzled, retrieving his cell phone from his pocket and promptly setting it aside. Checking was pointless. "I'm sorry, I was focused on work and must have missed it."

"I do that often too, and my wife always complains," Pavel laughed, heading towards the door. "How do you feel about Italian cuisine?"

"I like it," Daniel replied with a smile. "The food here is excellent."

"True, but when it comes to Asian restaurants..." Pavel smirked, "The dishes are tailored to our Russian palate. So, what do you think of our little menagerie?"

"They seem nice. I haven't had a chance to talk to many yet; everyone seems busy," Daniel responded, slightly taken aback by the term 'menagerie'. His coworkers appeared quite civilized, so labeling them as animals seemed odd. He guessed it might be a local joke he wasn't yet privy to and offered a hesitant smile in agreement.

"I'll fill you in later on who to be cautious around once we've sorted things out. But let's keep this between us," Pavel said briskly, striding ahead while Daniel struggled to keep pace.

Inside the elevator, surrounded by employees from other companies, silence prevailed as they both watched the floor numbers change. Daniel swallowed, adjusting to the pressure change and the usual ear-popping sensation that came with the fast elevator ride. They continued through the bustling lunchtime crowd in silence. While Moscow's pace rivaled that of New York's dynamism, Pavel seemed to set his own speed records, always moving swiftly as if perpetually running late for something. Even within the office corridors, he zoomed past like a shooting star. It was only when they settled comfortably at a restaurant table, glancing over the menu, that Pavel finally broke the silence.

"How about we share some antipasti?" Pavel suggested, casting a brief look at Daniel as he perused the menu.

"Sounds good," Daniel responded, going through the extensive menu.

"Excellent. Avoid the veal rigatoni; it's not great. The veal tends to be hard and dry," Pavel advised.

"I'll go with the scallops and spinach balls, and an Americano," Daniel decided, setting the menu aside and having forgotten about the absence of complimentary water in local restaurants added, "And also, a glass of water, please."

"Actually, we'll take a bottle," Pavel corrected him, signaling the waiter over.

"Ah, my mistake," Daniel acknowledged.

"We'll start with antipasti, followed by shrimp conchiglioni and scallops with spinach balls. Also, a bottle of mineral water and two Americanos after the meal," Pavel instructed the waiter, his demeanor abruptly turning stern, making Daniel uneasy. Communicating with Pavel was always a challenge. While his lips might curve into a smile, his gray eyes remained cold and guarded, never truly joining in the warmth. When he softened his words with a smile, as he did now, it felt disconcerting.

"Your order is noted, thank you. Would you like to see the dessert menu?" The red-haired waiter stood by, awaiting their response, directing his question to Daniel rather than Pavel.

"I'll pass on dessert, thank you," Daniel replied softly, trying to offset Pavel's iciness with his own warmth.

"You can take the menu," Pavel instructed, eyeing Daniel intently. The compliment that followed caught Daniel off guard. "You're quite striking, you know. It looks like you hit the genetic jackpot."

"Um, thank you,"Daniel stammered, feeling his face flush. He was still adjusting to the directness and lack of boundaries here. Why would Pavel say that? It seemed inappropriate in a corporate setting and potentially manipulative.

"You're blushing even more now," Pavel chuckled. "Don't be modest. A captivating appearance can be a significant advantage in our line of work. People naturally gravitate towards those they find attractive. You'll likely find it easier to pitch projects than someone like me," Pavel quipped, wiggling his prominent eyebrows in self-deprecating humor.

Daniel felt a wave of relief wash over him, sensing they were moving past any uncomfortable territory. Pavel, with his bald head, oversized ears, and sharp features, bore a resemblance to Tolkien's Gollum. His appearance didn't exactly inspire trust. However, his polished communication skills, honed over years in the corporate world, compensated for his physical shortcomings and helped him win over clients.

"If it were that straightforward, consulting firms would just hire top models," Daniel quipped with a smirk. "It's more complex than that."

"Absolutely, a good-looking face needs to be backed by intelligence," Pavel tapped his forehead for emphasis, swiftly shifting the conversation. "How's the production stream coming along?"

"It's progressing, but we've hit some hurdles," Daniel hesitated momentarily before continuing. "I believe the project is overvalued given that the startup hasn't finalized its technology yet and only has a prototype."

"Really?" Pavel's eyebrows knitted together in concern, leaning in closer. For a fleeting moment, Daniel sensed a hint of strong uncertainty in Pavel's gray eyes, but they quickly lit up with excitement and curiosity.

"I appreciate your straightforwardness; it's something we often lack here. People tend to hint rather than state things outright. I've had similar reservations, and I'm not thrilled they might be validated. However, let's not rush to conclusions. I'll await your calculations to verify them myself. Bystritsky is in a rush, damn it.

Ideally, such an exercise should take six to eight weeks, but we've been given only four, and two of those have already passed. I had a mistake with your predecessor; I chose poorly for the project. He struggled for a week and delivered subpar work.

Luckily, you've joined us just in time. With your M.I.T. background, experience in energy, and a fresh perspective, you're a valuable addition. Regardless, we need to meet Hydra's founder to test our hypotheses with him. I'll arrange a meeting with him next week once you finish your calculations. Did you manage to find out if they produce the low-power lasers in-house or source them externally?

"They purchase laser sets from an external supplier," Daniel replied, feeling appreciative of the recognition.

"How well do we understand the low-power laser market? Is it fragmented with numerous suppliers to pick from, or does the startup rely on a single one?"

"I've scheduled an interview with a laser expert for the next week to check that," Daniel responded, sensing a note of urgency.

"Next week is cutting it too close; the project timeline won't wait. We should meet with the founder and his CTO promptly to gather all the necessary information," Pavel said, pausing as the waiter placed a rustic wooden antipasti board on the table between them.

"OK," Daniel exhaled, feeling the meeting had gone smoothly.

Pavel picked up a slice of prosciutto with his fingers and savored it, chewing with enjoyment. Daniel averted his gaze momentarily - for some reason, Pavel's chewing appeared off-putting, evoking a vivid image of Gollum consuming raw fish. He then selected a black olive from the platter and chewed it slowly. Its sharp vinegar taste was pronounced. To balance out the flavor, Daniel tried another piece of ham. While not as exquisite as jamon, it was still fairly good.

"I overheard you speaking English. I wasn't intentionally eavesdropping; your voice simply carried. I was surprised; you don't have a distinctly American accent. Your pronunciation is quite neutral, almost unidentifiable. I studied in America and recognize the nuances," Pavel remarked, resting his chin on his hand. "Did you intentionally develop a neutral accent?"

"It just happened," Daniel said with a nonchalant shrug, masking his surprise at the keen interest in his accent. "I am an American by passport, but I only moved to the U.S. when I was seventeen. We left the US when I was two, after my mom secured her first expat assignment. So, growing up, I moved to various countries wherever she was sent."

"That sounds fascinating. It must've been challenging emotionally, constantly changing schools and making new friends."

"It had its moments," Daniel replied, taking a sip of water, sensing the conversation's shift to more personal territory. He wasn't keen on delving into his expatriate history; it was a chapter of his life he'd largely put behind him. However, maintaining silence might be misconstrued. Pavel might infer that Daniel lacked interpersonal skills due to his transient upbringing. Reluctantly, Daniel elaborated, focusing on the positive aspects of such a nomadic lifestyle.

"As a kid, adaptability comes naturally, and my mom and grandma always framed each move as a new adventure. Plus, since I didn't know any different, I never really thought about settling down anywhere."

"Which countries did you live in, and what is your mother's profession?" Pavel asked, taking a sip of water while maintaining eye contact.

"My mom is a petrochemical engineer specializing in hydrocracking. She was often recruited for various technological projects. We lived in Barcelona until I was six; strangely, I don't recall much from our time in Spain. After that, we spent eleven years traveling across Asia," Daniel focused intently on his facial expressions to conceal any emotion.

Vivid memories flooded back - his father's violent outbursts, the sound of hands meeting flesh, his mother's screams and desperate pleas. He even remembered the dust motes swirling in the sliver of sunlight that pierced through the pantry's darkness. Pushing the disturbing flashback aside, Daniel continued in a softer tone.

"Many people have hazy recollections of their early years, but certain memories remain. Like the taste of jamon," he said with a smirk, subtly gesturing towards the antipasti. "This so-called prosciutto doesn't compare to proper jamon."

"Well, it's understandable. The sanctions have taken their toll, prompting the country to step up its production of popular but previously imported goods," Pavel remarked with a chuckle. "People tend to appreciate what's readily available. I can point you to some farm shops that offer fantastic sausages and cheeses."

"Taste good to me," Daniel replied quickly, not wanting to come across as snobbishly dismissive of local cuisine. "Replicating Spanish jamon and Italian prosciutto to perfection is no easy task. Centuries of craftsmanship, along with specific conditions like water, air, feed, and climate, contribute to their unique flavors."

"Agree. Besides your time in Spain and Asia, where else have you lived? Living with your grandmother must've been convenient; there's no substitute for having grandma as a nanny."

"My grandmother was truly special," Daniel said with a wistful smile, recalling her sharp, animated features. "She's the reason I'm fluent in Russian; she taught me using the Russian curriculum. It's uncommon among expat kids from mixed backgrounds to maintain fluency in both English and the local language; often one gets neglected or spoken at a basic level.

"Mixed?" Pavel mused, taking another hearty bite of ham. "Where is your father from?"

"The U.S.," Daniel replied, maintaining a neutral expression when his father was brought up. He preferred not to dwell on his father's ancestral roots; ideally, he wouldn't bring up his father at all.

"I assume he didn't live with you then?"

"He did. He was an artist, so his career allowed for flexibility with our frequent relocations," Daniel said, feeling a subtle relief as the waiter served their main courses. It was a cue to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"That's intriguing," Pavel mused. "A shift in traditional family roles. Mom takes charge of the practicalities while dad pursues art. I've encountered a few families like that among expats. How did your father handle it?"

"Quite well," Daniel replied, injecting a touch of truth to make his fabrication more believable. "Relatively well. Like many artists, he had his highs and lows, attributing his periods of creative block to the local culture and the lack of exhibition opportunities. For instance, in Singapore, where we lived, foreigners on dependent visas couldn't legally earn, preventing him from selling his art. Similar challenges arose in other countries with strict immigration rules, making it seem like he was competing with local artists for opportunities," Daniel chuckled, "But overall, he embraced the expat lifestyle, he actually insisted that my mom accepted her first international assignment. There are numerous perks to living abroad, particularly in developing countries: spacious villas, chauffeur-driven luxury cars, and a team of household staff."

"I can relate," Pavel remarked, lost in thought. "I've taken on expat roles twice myself. The first was in China about a decade ago, and the second in Germany. Living in China was particularly enjoyable due to the upscale living conditions: a luxurious apartment, a personal driver, and the sensation of being at the top. And the cuisine there, oh," Pavel paused, sensing he might be oversharing, and shifted to a more casual tone. "I love Sichuan food - so spicy they feel like they're setting your stomach on fire. As Markez said, I might not be quoting this perfectly, but the essence is that the fiery peppers invigorate you. Especially when paired with an ice-cold beer. Chinese women are spicy too," Pavel winked suggestively, and Daniel offered a strained smile. Discussing women based on racial stereotypes felt inappropriate to him, prompting him to awkwardly steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Talking about schools, I faced some bullying from my Chinese classmates when I was in Singapore. They were the majority, so perhaps that's why they acted that way. Over time, I think they got tired of picking on me, and I learned to overlook their provocations. However, this was more of an isolated incident. Typically, international schools are filled with students from diverse backgrounds, making it easier to fit in. Being surrounded by people who share similar experiences always makes things more comfortable," Daniel shared, aiming to dispel any notion of lingering issues due to frequent school changes.

And it was true; each school he attended was accommodating, and any bullying attempts felt trivial compared to the familial challenges he faced. What did a little bullying matter in the grand scheme of things?

"I've always felt the environment is more enriching in multinational settings. Did you pick up any of the local languages?" Pavel asked, grabbing a shrimp and eagerly peeling it.

"Absolutely. I learned Spanish, Malaysian and Indonesian Bahasa, Putonghua, French, and Italian. However, I'm most proficient in Spanish. The others have kind of blended together in my mind. I can understand them to some extent, but speaking fluently is a different story. A mere three years of basic lessons weren't sufficient for mastering them," Daniel explained.

"That's quite impressive. With Russian, English, and Spanish in your repertoire, mastering Mandarin would allow you to communicate with a large portion of the global population," Pavel remarked. "I'm fluent only in English and struggle with Mandarin; I found Chinese too challenging. Though, in terms of grammar, it's relatively straightforward, wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely, but the tones and characters," Daniel made a face, recalling the tedious process of practicing a single character until his hand grew sore. "I'd rather not revisit that. I'll stick to connecting with a smaller fraction of the world, especially considering the widespread use of English these days."

"To sum it up, Daniel, you possess an excellent set of skills for a consulting career: good looks, a pleasant demeanor, multilingual abilities, and the added advantage of a technical education. You're poised for success," Pavel complimented, his words accompanied by a restrained smile.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Daniel resisted the temptation to mention that he wasn't envisioning a long-term consulting career. Sharing such information seemed unnecessary and potentially detrimental. Pavel signaled to the waiter with a mock gesture of sipping an invisible cup of coffee, prompting the waiter to head swiftly to the kitchen.