I fly this airline three times a month. She turned her gaze back to Marcus. She looked him up and down, her nose wrinkling as if she smelled something rotting. “And besides,” she said, dropping her voice to a stage whisper that was meant to be heard. “Why is that sitting there? Is the staff flying first class now, or did you let the janitor take a break?” The cabin went silent.
A businessman in row two lowered his newspaper. Marcus stayed still. He felt the familiar heat of anger rising in his chest, an old friend he had learned to control during boardroom hostilities. He channeled the heat into ice. He slowly turned his head to face her. “I paid for this seat, Mom,” Marcus said calmly.
“Just like you.” Mrs. Vanderhovven let out a sharp, [clears throat] incredulous laugh. Just like me. Oh, honey, no. She turned to Jessica, snapping her fingers. Get him up. I want my seat now. Jessica looked between the wealthy socialite and the man in the hoodie. It wasn’t a hard calculation for her. On one side, a diamond status member who tipped well and complained to corporate.
On the other, a random man who looked like he belonged in coach or outside the airport entirely. Jessica straightened her uniform and walked over to Marcus. Her customer service smile was gone. “Sir,” Jessica said, her voice hard. “I’m going to have to ask you to move.” Marcus looked at her. “Move where? The flight is full.
” “We have a seat in economy plus.” Jessica lied. Marcus knew she was lying because he had checked the manifest on his phone 5 minutes ago. The flight was fully booked. I will issue you a partial refund voucher, but Mrs. Vanderhovven is a priority passenger. Her comfort is paramount. I have a ticket for 1A, Marcus said, holding his ground. I am not moving.
