The boarding area trash bins were too full.
Not good.
A wheelchair passenger waited almost six minutes after requesting assistance.
Worse.
Diana made notes.
Then her assistant Olivia called.
“Phoenix update.”
Diana inserted one earbud.
“Go.”
“Two additional complaints. Same contractor.”
“Air Support?”
“Yes. One at check-in. One baggage-service incident.”
“Names involved?”
“Still confirming.”
“Send everything to legal and vendor oversight. No assumptions yet.”
“Understood.”
Diana looked toward the gate.
“Add Seattle to the comparison.”
“Something happening?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Yet?”
Diana smiled faintly.
“Occupational pessimism.”
Then Patricia Henderson arrived.
Diana heard her before she saw her.
“I understand what the app says. I am telling you the app is wrong.”
Patricia stood near the priority lane wearing an ivory designer blazer, cream trousers, expensive heels, oversized sunglasses pushed into highlighted blond hair, and the expression of someone who considered inconvenience a personal attack.
She was in her early fifties.
Her handbag alone probably cost more than Carlos earned in a month.
The gate agent explained politely that boarding had not yet begun.
Patricia held up her first-class boarding pass.
“I’m platinum elite with three carriers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I work in aviation.”
“I understand.”
“Then you understand that people like me have schedules.”
The gate agent maintained her smile.
“We’ll begin preboarding in approximately four minutes, followed by first class.”
Patricia leaned closer.
“Do you know who I am?”
The agent’s expression did not move.
“No, ma’am.”
Patricia seemed offended by the honesty.
“I’m regional client director for Air Support Services.”
Diana’s attention sharpened.
That explained the company logo on the small tag hanging from Patricia’s bag.
Patricia continued.
“We manage ground operations for airlines in this airport. I could make one call and create an extremely uncomfortable conversation for your station manager.”
The gate agent’s smile faded slightly.
“I’m sure our station manager would be happy to speak with you. Boarding still begins in four minutes.”
Diana wrote one line in her notebook.
Gate agent maintained policy under intimidation.
Then another.
Air Support regional director.
This morning had become useful.
When boarding began, Patricia moved into the priority lane before the announcement finished.
She presented her pass as though accepting an award.
Finally.
Diana approached next.
The scanner beeped.
Green.
The gate agent glanced at Diana, and recognition flashed briefly in her eyes.
Diana gave the smallest shake of her head.
Normal process.
The gate agent understood.
“Have a good flight.”
“Thank you.”
Patricia, five feet ahead in the jet bridge, looked back at the scanner tone.
Her eyes dropped to Diana’s boarding pass.
Then rose slowly.
“First class?”
Diana kept walking.
“Yes.”
Patricia smiled without warmth.
“I thought they were still boarding priority.”
“They are.”
“Interesting.”
Diana said nothing.
Patricia slowed down.
She pretended to check her phone, making Diana shorten her pace behind her.
Then she said loudly:
“Standards really have changed.”
Diana looked at the jet bridge wall.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Patricia took three more steps.
Then: