Chương 5
More relevant to Meridian Atlantic, she had been a top-tier customer for nineteen years.
Her annual travel spending was enough to receive attention from executives most passengers never knew existed.
Emily learned this from the newspaper, not the airline.
That bothered her.
On Saturday morning, a courier delivered flowers.
White orchids.
No card at first.
Lauren found the envelope buried under tissue paper.
The handwriting was not handwritten.
Ms. Brooks,
I regret that an extremely stressful personal situation resulted in conduct uncharacteristic of me. I am sorry for the distress caused. I hope, in time, this matter can be addressed privately and with appropriate perspective.
Margaret Hale
Emily read it twice.
Lauren said, “That is the worst apology I've ever seen.”
“It never says she hit me.”
“It says ‘conduct.’”
“It says she regrets stress.”
“Maybe the stress slapped you.”
Emily folded the card.
She did not throw it away.
She put it in a kitchen drawer beneath takeout menus and batteries.
That annoyed Lauren.
“You're keeping it?”
“I don't know.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you want the flowers?”
“No.”
Lauren looked at the orchids.
“They are extremely nice flowers.”
“I know.”
“Can I keep them?”
Emily looked at her.
“Sure.”
They laughed.
It felt almost obscene and therefore wonderful.
On Monday, the day her performance review had originally been scheduled, Emily met Employee Relations at Meridian headquarters instead.
The building overlooked the airport from the opposite side of the highway. From the conference room, jets looked quiet and clean, as if nothing ugly had ever happened inside a terminal.
Claire Donnelly sat across from her with a laptop.
A company attorney named Michael Santos sat beside Claire.
Emily had brought no attorney.
She regretted that as soon as she saw his suit.
Santos noticed.
“You're welcome to have representation or a support person present.”
“Should I?”
“That is your decision.”
“Would you?”
He smiled slightly.
“If I were you, I wouldn't ask company counsel for advice about dealing with company counsel.”
Emily laughed.
Claire did too.
The room relaxed by half an inch.
They reviewed the incident timeline.
Emily’s first radio call to Alan had been logged at 8:53:11 p.m.
His response, “Give me two minutes,” had been logged twelve seconds later.
Her second call came at 8:57:42.
Alan answered, “On my way.”
He did not reach the counter before the slap at 9:05:03.
Emily stared at the timestamps.
Eight minutes.
The video had made the slap feel immediate, almost spontaneous.
The log made it look like something that had been approaching for a while.
“What was he doing?” she asked.
Claire looked at Santos.
Santos said, “We are still reviewing that.”
“You know.”
“We have information.”
“Which means you know.”
Claire folded her hands.
“Alan was in the operations office.”
“With the rebooking?”
“Partly.”
“What does partly mean?”
No one answered.
Emily looked from one to the other.
“Was he avoiding her?”
Claire said, “We have not reached a final conclusion.”
Emily leaned back.
For the first time since the slap, anger arrived cleanly.
Not hot.
Useful.
“I want to see my performance records.”
Santos frowned slightly.
“Which records?”
“My customer scores. Incident notes. Complaints. Supervisor notes. Everything I'm allowed to see.”
“Why?”
“Because if you are reviewing what I did, I want to know what I was trained to think I was supposed to do.”
Claire’s expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
Emily looked at her.
“You reward us for keeping premium passengers calm. You track complaints. You track how long people stand at the counter. You track whether we call supervisors. You track whether we solve things ourselves. Alan tells us not to escalate unless we absolutely have to.”
Santos said, “Is that written policy?”
“No.”
“Then I need you to distinguish between formal policy and your supervisor's management style.”
Emily turned toward him.
“You just distinguished it for me.”
That afternoon, Alan called.
She let it ring twice before answering.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He sounded worse than she felt.
“Are you at headquarters?”
“I was.”
“I had my interview this morning.”
“Okay.”
“I told them I should've gone out.”
“Okay.”
“I told them you called.”
“Good.”
There was silence.
Alan said, “They asked if I had told agents to avoid supervisor escalations.”
Emily waited.
“And?”
“I said I encouraged ownership.”
She closed her eyes.
There it was.
Corporate language entered a room and made a simple thing difficult.
“You told us escalating made us look weak.”
“I didn't say it like that.”
“You said, ‘If you need me for every difficult passenger, premium services may not be the right fit.’”
“That was coaching.”
“To whom?”
Another silence.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“I am not trying to blame you.”
“Good.”
“I just need you to understand how this works.”
She almost laughed.
“How what works?”
“There are numbers. Pressure. Staffing. We were short two people. We had weather delays. Thomas Reed was in the terminal without anyone warning me. Do you know what that means for me?”
Emily looked at the wall.
He heard himself.
She knew because his voice changed.
“Sorry,” he said.
She replied, “Do you know what it meant for me?”
He did not answer.
Emily ended the call.
That evening, she opened the drawer and read Margaret’s apology again.
Appropriate perspective.
She folded it along the same crease.
Then she called Officer Ortega.
“I want to move forward with the complaint.”
Ortega did not congratulate her.
Emily was grateful for that.
She simply said, “All right. I'll explain the next steps.”
The process was slower than the internet.
There was no dramatic arrest.
No handcuffs outside a mansion.
Margaret’s lawyer contacted investigators. Statements were taken. Video was preserved. Witness information was collected. Airport police referred the matter through ordinary channels.
A week passed.
Then another.
Emily returned to work.
Her first day back, three coworkers hugged her.
One asked permission first.
The other two did not.
May you like
A baggage agent named Ray handed her a coffee and said, “Please never become inspirational.”
“I'll do my best.”
