Perfect uniform.
Training polished enough to make stress nearly invisible.
Nearly.
Her left hand shook.
Simone realized the employee was afraid.
Not of physical violence.
Of the man’s status.
That disturbed Simone almost as much as the champagne.
The businessman reached across the console.
Picked up a folded white napkin.
Threw it toward Simone.
It landed against her arm.
“Clean yourself up.”
Simone caught the napkin before it fell.
She folded it once.
Placed it on the armrest.
Then looked directly at him.
That simple act made his face twist.
“Stop acting like you own the place.”
Simone’s eyes narrowed.
Before she could answer, a metallic sound came from the forward cabin.
The aircraft door opened.
Everyone near the front turned.
Two men entered first.
Dark suits.
Federal credentials visible.
Neither looked like airport police.
Their posture changed the room immediately.
The businessman stopped mid-gesture.
The flight attendant looked toward them.
Then toward the man behind them.
Daniel Warren stepped aboard.
Forty-four years old.
Black American.
Tall.
Lean rather than bulky.
Charcoal suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
Leather legal folder in one hand.
His expression was calm.
Until he saw his wife.
Daniel’s eyes moved first to the champagne across Simone’s dress.
Then the empty glass.
Then the businessman standing over her.
Then the boarding pass lying on the floor.
Something in his face disappeared.
Warmth.
He kept walking.
The businessman looked confused.
The flight attendant recognized Daniel immediately.
So did another crew member emerging from the galley.
Both straightened.
Daniel did not acknowledge them yet.
He walked directly past the businessman.
Stopped beside Simone.
Then crouched.
He picked up the boarding pass.
Champagne had soaked one corner.
Daniel removed a clean handkerchief from his jacket.
Wiped the card gently.
Checked the name.
Seat.
Then placed it into Simone’s hand.
She looked at him.
“Daniel, I’m all right.”
The businessman’s face changed.
Not completely.
Not yet.
Daniel looked at his wife’s wet dress.
Then at her eyes.
“You don’t look all right.”
“I’m not hurt.”
He nodded.
That mattered.
He stood.
Only then did he turn toward the businessman.
The cabin felt smaller.
Daniel held the soaked handkerchief in one hand.
His voice remained calm.
“You poured champagne on my wife.”
The businessman’s fingers tightened around the empty glass.
“Your wife?”
“Yes.”
The businessman glanced toward the federal officers.
Then the flight attendant.
Then Simone.
His brain was recalculating.