By the morning of the flight, Caleb's recommendation was almost complete.
Almost.
He still wanted to hear the supplier's final presentation in person.
People often revealed more in the way they defended a number than in the number itself.
At 7:18, a woman's voice carried from the other side of the gate.
"...then reorder the entire deck."
Caleb looked up.
She stood twenty feet away holding a phone.
Platinum-blonde hair.
Long.
Polished.
Expensive coat.
Matched leather luggage with brass hardware.
Beige structured corset beneath the coat.
Burgundy fabric visible at the neckline and hem.
Narrow black sunglasses despite being indoors.
She spoke with the calm authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed before sentences ended.
"I don't care what legal prefers. Legal is not presenting. I am."
Pause.
"No. The board sees projected fleet savings before implementation risk."
Another pause.
"Because I said so."
Caleb looked back at his screen.
He knew the company before he knew the woman.
Ashbourne.
The name on the slides.
He had seen an executive biography.
Maybe a photograph months earlier.
He did not spend mental energy memorizing corporate faces.
Now he knew.
Victoria Ashbourne.
Founder and chief executive of Ashbourne Dynamics.
She ended the call and looked toward the gate desk.
The gate agent straightened subtly.
Caleb noticed.
People often adjusted their posture around visible power before understanding they were doing it.
Victoria spoke briefly with the agent.
Her expression tightened.
Then boarding began.
Caleb was in group four.
Victoria boarded later than he expected.
When she reached row 32, she stopped.
Caleb sat at the window.
The middle seat was empty.
The aisle seat apparently belonged to her.
For a fraction of a second, Victoria simply stared.
Not rudely.
More like a person confronting evidence that an administrative error had become physical.
She checked the row number again.
Caleb stood.
She slipped inside.
No thanks.
No greeting.
She sat.
Her burgundy handbag went beneath the seat.
Tablet on her lap.
Phone in hand.
Caleb returned to his laptop.
Within thirty seconds Victoria was speaking again.
"Move the economics slide earlier."
Caleb kept his eyes on the data.
"No, before the deployment timeline."
Pause.
"The number needs to be in the room before risk."
Caleb knew exactly which number.
Two hundred forty million.
He heard it within two minutes.
Victoria said it loudly enough for the row ahead to notice.
Not shouting.
Just unconcerned with privacy.
"Sterling is not walking away from a two-hundred-forty-million-dollar efficiency gain over an engineering footnote."
Caleb's fingers stopped above the keyboard.
Engineering footnote.
Interesting.
Victoria continued.
"If Langford wants a phased rollout, he can ask. We will politely explain that full economics require full deployment."
Caleb resumed typing.
She ended the call.
Cabin doors closed.
A flight attendant performed the safety demonstration.
Victoria answered one last message, then finally seemed aware that another person occupied the row.
She looked toward Caleb's laptop.
A reliability table filled the screen.
She studied it.
Then him.
"Are you a mechanic?"
Caleb turned slightly.
"No."
"Airport operations?"
"Not exactly."
"What do you do?"
"A little consulting in aviation."
Victoria produced a small breath through her nose.
Not quite laughter.
"Consulting."
"Yes."
"That word has become very flexible."
Caleb looked toward her.
"Has it?"