She Denied Me Boarding, but Karma Took Flight

"Ms. Brooks, I..."

I'd barely started to explain before Jessie Brooks cut me off. "Didn't they train you before you came here?

"Seniority matters in this industry. On top of that, I'm the team lead, and you're just a contract flight attendant!

"All you think about is sleeping your way into the VIP cabin. You're a disgrace to this profession!

"It's people like you who give flight attendants such a terrible reputation!"

Her gaze cut into me like a knife, as if she wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth in and finish off the parasite eating away at her industry.

Strictly speaking, though, she and I didn't work for the same company, and she certainly wasn't my superior.

I'd been temporarily transferred here to help out in an emergency, so naturally my personnel file hadn't come with me.

And I wasn't riding around in my supervisor's luxury car or sleeping with him at a five-star hotel either.

I'd told my supervisor, Victor Gibson, from the start that there was no need for anything so lavish or for such a fuss. I could take a cab myself, and I could stay at a motel.

But Victor insisted. He said I was here to bail them out of a jam and was doing them a huge favor, so I had to eat well and sleep well.

I'd gone over the classified flight briefing for this trip ahead of time.

This VIP flight was carrying no fewer than eighteen financial heavyweights, all headed to the Global Finance Summit starting in two hours.

They were major players who could move the financial markets with a single sentence. Any one of them could crush me as easily as an ant.

I sucked in a sharp breath. I really didn't have time for Jessie's nonsense.

I was just about to swipe my badge when a dull pain shot through my wrist.

Jessie had a death grip on me. Veins bulged at her temple, and her face twisted into a nasty grin. "A Silver Wing card?

"Even I only have a navy-blue badge. A lowly contract flight attendant like you is swiping a Silver Wing card, and you still claim you're not sleeping with the boss?"

I was at a loss for words. "This card is mine. Ms. Brooks, every card has its own unique number. You can look it up after we land."

Shock froze on her face for three seconds. Then she burst into shrill, piercing laughter. "Yours? Lady, how old are you, anyway?

"The only people in our department who get that card have put in over forty years!

"Even Cory Olson, the prodigy captain from a family of aviators, doesn't have one. What makes you think you do? You're lying through your teeth!"

I seethed inside, but there was nothing I could do.

That was just how the industry was.

Only one in every hundred captains was a woman.

I held an Airline Transport Pilot License, type ratings for nearly every aircraft, special privilege certifications, and multiple commendations for distinguished service.

Even so, I still couldn't measure up to my show-off junior.

"Ms. Brooks, please give my card back." I kept my face stern. "The plane takes off in just an hour and forty minutes, and I still have other preparations to make. After we land, I'll submit a written report to my supervisor addressing the issues you've raised."

Jessie gave a cold laugh.

She pinched the card hard between her thumb and index finger.

My Silver Wing card snapped in her grip, and she flicked it at my face like a piece of trash.