Douglas showed his boarding pass.
She looked.
“Yours says 2C.”
His smile weakened.
“My office requested the front executive seat.”
Maya looked toward 2C.
“That appears to be the one assigned to you.”
Douglas frowned.
“Who are you traveling with?”
Maya paused.
The question sounded ordinary.
The tone did not.
“Everyone.”
He looked confused.
“Which company?”
“Meridian North.”
Douglas nodded as though that confirmed something.
“You’re staff.”
Maya almost smiled.
“Yes.”
Not technically false.
She worked there.
Douglas pointed toward 2C.
“You may want to double-check because those first seats are usually reserved.”
“They are.”
“For senior executives.”
Maya looked at him.
“They are.”
Douglas waited.
Maya returned to her screen.
He did not move.
“You should check.”
She looked up again.
“My boarding pass says 1A.”
“I understand.”
“Then what are we checking?”
Douglas’s patience thinned.
“Whether you were assigned it accidentally.”
Maya stared at him.
“Why would you assume that?”
Douglas hesitated.
Then gestured vaguely.
“Because I specifically requested forward seating.”
“That explains why you expected the seat.”
Maya’s voice remained calm.
“It does not explain why you assumed mine was wrong.”
Several passengers had boarded behind him.
The aisle was now blocked.
The flight attendant approached.
“Sir, can I help?”
Douglas said:
“There’s a seating issue.”
Maya said:
“There isn’t.”
The flight attendant checked both passes.
“Ms. Carter is in 1A.”
She pointed.
“Mr. Whitmore, you’re in 2C.”
Douglas looked at her.
“My firm requested first-row executive priority.”
“I don’t have that note.”
“Then call operations.”
The attendant smiled professionally.
“I can check after boarding, but right now I need the aisle clear.”
Douglas moved to 2C.
The incident could have ended there.
It should have.
Instead, five minutes later, Douglas looked toward Maya’s seat again.
Then toward the overhead compartment.
Her small roller bag was above row one.
He called the flight attendant.
“Whose bag is that?”
She looked.
“Ms. Carter’s.”
“That compartment should be available for priority passengers.”
The attendant looked confused.
“Everyone in this section has overhead access.”
Douglas pointed.
“She already has something under the seat.”
Maya could hear every word.
The attendant said:
“The bag is within allowance.”
Douglas leaned closer.
“You’re missing the issue.”
“What issue?”
“That space is limited.”
The attendant opened another overhead compartment.
It was half empty.
“There’s plenty of space.”
Douglas looked annoyed.
Maya kept reading.
Then his junior colleague boarded.
A thirty-one-year-old analyst named Peter Shaw.
Peter saw Douglas.
“Morning.”
Douglas pointed to the seat beside him.
“You’re there.”
Peter looked at his pass.
“3A.”
“Sit here for now.”