Amara looked at him.
“No.”
He smiled.
“I can tell.”
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Richard behaved perfectly.
Amara nearly relaxed.
She opened her laptop again.
Apex Continental Oversight Implementation Plan.
Section 6.
Vendor Compliance.
She skimmed.
Then felt Richard moving.
He bent forward.
His leather portfolio was wedged beneath the seat ahead.
Instead of asking Amara to shift slightly, he leaned across the armrest.
His torso entered her space.
“Excuse me.”
He ignored her.
His shoulder pushed against hers.
“Sir.”
“I need my bag.”
“Then ask.”
Richard reached farther.
His forearm slammed across the upper part of Amara’s chest near her collarbone.
Pain shot into her shoulder.
She gasped.
The laptop almost slipped.
Richard pulled the portfolio free.
Then sat back.
Amara stared.
The college student across the aisle removed one headphone.
Richard opened the case.
Amara said:
“You just struck me.”
He barely looked up.
“You're fine.”
The same words.
Again.
Amara felt her heartbeat accelerating.
Not fear.
Anger.
Real anger now.
The kind that made her vision sharpen.
“Do not tell me whether I am fine.”
Richard looked toward her.
“Oh, please.”
“No.”
“You're turning a cramped airplane into a human-rights tribunal.”
Amara almost laughed.
He had no idea how close that phrase came to her actual work.
Richard continued:
“You clearly enjoy conflict.”
Amara stared.
“I've spent this entire flight moving away from you.”
“And yet somehow we're still discussing it.”
“Because you keep touching me.”
A woman two rows ahead turned around.
Richard looked toward the aisle.
“Chloe!”
The flight attendant returned.
“What is it?”
Richard pointed toward Amara.
“I think we need to address this.”
Amara’s eyebrows rose.
Chloe looked tired already.
“Ma’am?”
Amara said:
“He reached across me and hit my shoulder with his forearm.”
Richard laughed.
“I reached for my briefcase.”
“You struck me.”
“It was incidental contact.”
Chloe asked:
“Are you injured?”
Amara stared.
“That is not the standard.”
“What?”
“I don't need to demonstrate an injury before another passenger is expected to stop entering my space.”
Richard shook his head.
“This is exhausting.”
Chloe’s expression became guarded.
“Ma’am, there is limited room in the cabin.”
Amara looked around.
Business class.
Wide seats.
The absurdity almost impressed her.
“I understand aircraft dimensions.”
Richard smiled.
“Apparently not.”
Chloe ignored him again.
Amara noticed.
That silence was becoming active.
Amara asked:
“Can you move one of us?”
Chloe hesitated.
“The flight is nearly full.”
“Nearly?”
“There may be one available seat, but—”
Richard interrupted.
“I’m not moving.”
Chloe looked toward him.
“Mr. Halston, nobody asked—”
“I have meetings immediately after landing.”
Amara’s head turned slightly.
What did that have to do with switching seats?