She looked at him.
For once, she had no prepared explanation.
“I was upset.”
“That doesn't explain it.”
“He wouldn't leave.”
“Because you were in his seat.”
She looked toward the terminal windows.
Richard waited.
Finally, she whispered, “I didn't think he belonged there.”
The admission seemed to cost her something.
Richard looked at her for a long moment.
Then he lowered his phone.
“That,” he said, “is what I was afraid you'd say.”
Darla felt her throat tighten.
She had expected her husband to defend her against a stranger.
Instead, he was asking her to confront something she had spent years refusing to examine.
She crossed her arms.
“So what now? Are you going to punish me?”
Richard shook his head.
“I can't punish you into becoming someone different.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to understand what you did.”
Before she could respond, Richard's phone rang.
Evan Cole.
Richard answered.
“Mr. Cole.”
“Richard, I received your message.”
“Thank you for calling.”
“Are you still at the airport?”
“Yes.”
“Then meet me in the business lounge. We should talk before the afternoon meeting.”
Richard glanced at Darla.
“May my wife come?”
A brief pause.
“If she's willing to listen.”
Richard ended the call.
Darla looked at him.
“What did he say?”
“He'll speak with us.”
She let out a shaky breath.
“Good. We can clear this up.”
Richard studied her.
“Darla, this isn't about clearing up a misunderstanding.”
She looked at him.
“Then what?”
“It's about telling the truth.”
The business lounge was quiet when they arrived.
Sunlight fell across the tables near the windows.
Evan sat alone, reviewing documents on his laptop.
He closed the computer when he saw them.
“Richard.”
“Mr. Cole.”
They shook hands.
Darla stood beside her husband, suddenly uncertain where to put her hands.
Evan gestured toward the chairs.
“Please sit.”
Richard sat first.
Darla followed.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Evan looked at her.
“Mrs. Whitmore, would you like to say something?”
Darla drew a breath.
“I regret that the situation became so public.”
Evan waited.
She glanced at Richard.
He said nothing.
Darla continued.
“I was frustrated, and I may have said things that sounded worse than I intended.”
Evan folded his hands.
“What did you intend?”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“When you told me people like me belonged in the back, what did you intend?”
Darla looked down.
Richard remained still.
“I shouldn't have said that.”
“No,” Evan replied. “You shouldn't have.”
She swallowed.
“I'm sorry.”
Evan studied her expression.
“Are you sorry you said it, or sorry you discovered who I was?”
The question hung between them.
Darla's eyes filled.
“I don't know,” she admitted.
Richard looked at her.
It was the first completely honest answer she had given all morning.
Evan leaned back.
“Then that's where you need to start.”
Darla wiped at one eye.
“I've never had anyone speak to me like this.”
Evan's expression remained serious.
“People who don't have your connections hear worse every day.”
She looked away.
He continued.
“I'm not asking you to like me. I'm asking you to recognize that my dignity didn't begin when you learned my name.”
Richard lowered his head.
Darla sat motionless.
Then Evan turned toward him.
“We also need to discuss something else.”
Richard straightened.
“The company?”
“Yes.”
Darla looked between them.
Evan opened his laptop.
“I reviewed the supplier relationship you mentioned during the call.”
Richard nodded cautiously.
“Whitmore Logistics handles several transportation contracts for the airline.”
“Correct.”
Evan looked at him.
“Your wife told the flight crew your company practically keeps the airline in business.”
Richard exhaled.
“I heard.”
“She also threatened their employment.”
Richard nodded again.
“I understand.”
Evan's voice became firmer.