“The aircraft is scheduled to depart at five fifteen.”
Caroline stopped.
Simone continued.
“Fuel load was revised at three forty because the original route to Van Nuys is now direct rather than stopping in Dallas.”
Claire’s face changed.
Caroline’s did not.
“The catering should include sparkling water from the Italian supplier, no strawberries because one passenger has an allergy, and no walnuts because the catering company somehow ignored that note twice last month.”
Claire’s lips parted.
Caroline stared.
Simone continued.
“The forward closet latch sticks if you pull it from the center.”
“You need to lift slightly from the left.”
“The Wi-Fi router was replaced Thursday.”
“The rear lavatory mirror still has a three-millimeter gap in the bottom-right corner because the maintenance team installed the trim incorrectly.”
Silence.
A ground worker pushing a baggage cart slowed.
Caroline looked toward the aircraft.
Then back at Simone.
“Who told you those things?”
Simone almost laughed.
Nobody.
She had read the maintenance and dispatch reports.
Every one.
Caroline folded her arms.
“If you are employed by the management company, you still need authorization before approaching the aircraft.”
“I’m not employed by the management company.”
“Then how do you know internal cabin details?”
Simone looked at her.
“That’s a better question.”
Caroline waited.
Simone did not answer.
That irritated her.
“I’m asking you to step away.”
“And I’m declining.”
Caroline’s voice sharpened.
“Ma’am.”
Simone hated “ma’am” when it arrived like a warning.
She held out the leather folder.
“My boarding documents.”
Caroline took them.
Not carefully.
She opened the folder.
The top page displayed Simone’s name.
No title.
That was deliberate.
S. BENNETT.
Departure point.
Destination.
Passenger count.
Nothing that explained ownership.
Caroline scanned.
Her eyes narrowed.
“This isn’t a standard passenger manifest.”
“No.”
“It’s a delivery packet.”
Simone said nothing.
Caroline looked toward the terminal.
“Did somebody hand you this?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“My attorney.”
That answer annoyed her more.
Caroline flipped another page.
Simone watched.
The woman had not yet reached the section that mattered.
Instead, Caroline closed the folder.
“You can’t board based on this.”
“Why?”
“Because your name is not on my passenger list.”
Simone’s eyes sharpened.
“That is interesting.”
“Excuse me?”
“Very.”
She reached for the folder.
Caroline did not immediately return it.
Simone looked at her hand.
“Give me my documents.”
Caroline’s jaw tightened.
Then she placed the folder against Simone’s chest rather than into her palm.
It was not a shove.
Not quite.
But disrespect has degrees.
Simone took the folder.
“Who gave you the passenger list?”
“Operations.”
“Which operations?”
“Our company.”
“What company?”
Caroline looked irritated.