“What status?”
Richard’s headset crackled again.
He ignored it.
Amara bent down and picked up the leather card case from the floor.
She opened it.
Removed the black corporate credential.
Turned it outward.
Evelyn stared at the gold insignia.
Then at the name.
Then at the title.
CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.
For a second, her face simply emptied.
“No.”
Amara said nothing.
Evelyn looked at Richard.
“No.”
Richard’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“She’s the CEO.”
The younger attendant covered her mouth.
Evelyn looked back at Amara.
The arrogance vanished so quickly it was almost shocking.
Richard continued.
“And this aircraft belongs to the executive fleet.”
Amara finally spoke.
“No.”
Richard blinked.
She looked at him.
“Say it accurately.”
He understood.
“This aircraft is owned by the company you control.”
Amara slipped the card back into its case.
“Correct.”
Evelyn stared at the floor.
Her red lipstick seemed suddenly too bright against her pale face.
Richard cleared his throat.
“Ms. Bennett, I had no idea.”
Amara looked at him.
“That is the problem.”
He opened his mouth.
She continued.
“You believe the problem is that you didn’t know who I was.”
Richard froze.
“It isn’t.”
Amara pointed toward the rear cabin.
“The problem is that you believed this behavior was acceptable when you thought I was nobody.”
Nobody spoke.
Even Evelyn looked up.
Amara turned toward her.
“You threw my property on the floor.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“You touched me after I told you not to.”
“I—”
“You slapped me.”
“It happened quickly.”
Amara’s expression hardened.
“No. Your hand moved quickly. Your decision didn’t.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with panic.
“I apologize.”
Amara stared at her.
Evelyn took a breath.
“I’m deeply sorry.”
“Why?”
Evelyn blinked.
“What?”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I behaved unprofessionally.”
“That isn’t what you believed five minutes ago.”
Evelyn said nothing.
“You were proud of what you did.”
“No.”
“You smiled.”
Evelyn looked away.
Amara turned toward Richard.
“And you?”
Richard straightened.
“I handled the situation badly.”
“You were told a crew member struck a passenger.”
“Yes.”
“A witness confirmed it.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided your departure slot mattered more.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Amara nodded.
“Good. At least that answer is honest.”
Richard glanced toward the cockpit.
“Ms. Bennett, I have twenty-two years—”
She held up one hand.
“Do not give me your résumé.”
He stopped.
“I already know it.”
That seemed to hit him harder than anything else.
Amara continued.
“I know your hours. Your training. Your safety record. Your commendations. I also know there are three HR complaints about your communication style that were dismissed as personality conflicts.”