“Yes.”
“The Chief Procurement and Strategy Officer.”
“Yes.”
His glass lowered.
He had read her name dozens of times.
Quarterly vendor summaries.
Executive requests.
Contract amendments.
Renewal correspondence.
His vice president of sales had mentioned her repeatedly.
Bennett wants independent service metrics.
Bennett rejected the automatic price escalator.
Bennett is asking for new neonatal support guarantees.
Bennett wants the Denver meeting in person.
Preston had responded to several of those emails without once opening her executive profile.
Now she sat beside him holding a newborn in a wet blanket.
“Why didn’t you say who you were?”
Simone stared at him.
The question was so revealing that even Melissa looked away.
“Why would I need to?”
“I didn’t know.”
“That’s the point.”
Preston leaned closer.
“Listen, Ms. Bennett—”
“Mrs. Bennett.”
“Mrs. Bennett.”
His voice softened.
“This has gotten out of hand.”
Simone looked toward the front of the cabin.
“You spilled champagne on my baby.”
“Accidentally.”
“I said that may have been accidental.”
Preston seized the distinction.
“Exactly.”
“But your response wasn’t.”
He said nothing.
“You had several opportunities to apologize before you knew my name.”
“I was frustrated.”
“With what?”
“The situation.”
“What situation?”
Preston glanced at Lila.
That was answer enough.
Simone lowered her voice.
“You thought I was someone you could humiliate without consequence.”
“That is not what happened.”
“You asked whether I paid for my seat.”
“I was making conversation.”
“You asked why infants are allowed up here.”
“People pay a lot of money for first class.”
“So did I.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You said leadership diversity puts people in titles they haven’t earned.”
Preston looked toward the passengers listening.
“I was speaking generally.”
“Then you told me I did not belong here.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re taking everything in the worst possible way.”
Simone almost smiled.
“That sentence usually arrives when the first explanations stop working.”
Preston leaned back.
For the first time since boarding, he had nothing to say.
The young Black attorney in 3D introduced himself after the cabin settled.
His name was Marcus Lane.
He worked in commercial litigation in Atlanta.
“I recorded from right before the spill.”
Simone looked toward his phone.
“Why?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Because I heard him talking to you earlier.”
He glanced toward Preston.
“And I had a feeling somebody might eventually say nobody remembered it the same way.”
Simone nodded.
“Would you preserve the original?”
“Absolutely.”
“Please don’t edit it.”
“I won’t.”
Melissa approached minutes later.
“I also filed an in-flight incident report.”
Preston turned toward her.
“For what?”
Melissa looked at him.
“For what occurred in this cabin.”