“I’m just saying hospitals have more administrators than patients these days.”
Simone returned to her screen.
“Then it’s lucky nobody asked you to hire me.”
Preston laughed.
For a moment, the exchange almost felt ordinary.
Then his eyes dropped to the contract page visible on her laptop.
He could not read much from his angle.
He saw the Meridian Alliance logo.
His expression changed.
“You work for Meridian?”
“Yes.”
“What department?”
“Strategy and procurement.”
Preston leaned back.
“Procurement.”
“Correct.”
He took another sip.
“Now that is a department with too many people.”
Simone smiled faintly.
“Some vendors would agree.”
He did not catch the meaning.
He began telling her about hospital purchasing.
Not asking.
Telling.
He explained that procurement teams often focused too heavily on price and failed to understand relationships. He complained about younger executives who believed spreadsheets could replace experience. He said diversity initiatives had created people with impressive titles who lacked the instincts older leaders developed over decades.
Simone stopped typing.
There it was.
Not quite an insult.
Not quite deniable either.
She asked, “What kind of diversity initiatives?”
Preston shrugged.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
His smile tightened.
“Companies are under pressure to make leadership look a certain way.”
Simone looked directly at him.
“And what way is that?”
He realized he had reached a line.
Instead of retreating, he laughed.
“Don’t make everything political.”
Simone opened her laptop again.
“I didn’t.”
The conversation ended.
For forty minutes, Preston said nothing.
Lila slept.
Simone finished reviewing vendor metrics and began reading a hospital construction forecast.
Then turbulence started.
Nothing severe.
Enough to shake drinks.
Melissa asked passengers to remain seated.
Preston ignored the instruction long enough to retrieve something from the overhead compartment.
When he sat again, he complained that Simone’s diaper bag extended slightly beneath the dividing space between their seats.
“It’s under my seat.”
“It’s coming over.”
Simone looked.
The strap was perhaps two inches beyond the metal support.
She moved it.
“There.”
Preston shook his head.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve said ‘nothing’ several times today.”
He looked toward her.
“I’m trying to have a peaceful flight.”
“So am I.”
He pointed loosely toward Lila.
“That makes one of us better prepared for it.”
Simone felt anger rise.
Then disappear.
Not because she was no longer angry.
Because she was tired.
There was a specific exhaustion that came from deciding whether each remark deserved the energy required to answer it.
She had known it in department stores.
Executive meetings.
Hotel lobbies.
Conference check-in tables.
Even hospital corridors.
Sometimes racism arrived loudly.
More often it came wrapped inside a question.
Are you sure this is your seat?
Who are you here with?
Are you part of the support team?
Which executive do you work for?