Ethan hesitated.
“I'm still on the clock.”
“You were suspended.”
“That's true.”
Richard almost smiled.
Ethan sat.
“Seventeen?” Richard asked.
“Yes.”
“School?”
“Senior year.”
“What happens after that?”
“Hopefully college.”
“What do you want to study?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Engineering.”
“What kind?”
“Civil.”
Richard's eyes sharpened.
“Why?”
Ethan looked through the rain-covered glass.
“I like bridges.”
“Bridges?”
“My dad used to take me to see them.”
Richard waited.
Ethan continued.
“He worked construction. When I was little, he'd point at bridges and tell me every one of them was basically a promise.”
“A promise?”
“That somebody believed people on one side needed a way to reach people on the other.”
Richard was silent.
“My father would have liked that answer,” he finally said.
Ethan looked at him.
“What did he do?”
“Built things.”
“Construction?”
“In a way.”
Collins approached again.
“Ethan, you need to leave.”
Richard looked up.
“He's staying.”
Collins forced a professional smile.
“Sir, I understand you're upset—”
“No, you don't.”
Richard's voice was still calm.
That made it worse.
Collins lowered his voice.
“Whatever company you're with, this is an airport employment issue.”
Richard glanced toward the supervisor badge.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Fourteen years.”
“And how long have you supervised this terminal?”
“Six.”
“You must know a great deal about it.”
“I do.”
“Then you know your emergency-assistance protocol.”
Collins hesitated.
Richard continued.
“Section four requires the nearest available employee to remain with a distressed passenger until assistance arrives.”
Collins stared.
Ethan stared too.
“How do you know that?” Collins asked.
Richard ignored the question.
“You ordered him to leave me.”
“I told him to call assistance.”
“And then continue cleaning.”
Collins' jaw tightened.
“You weren't unconscious.”
“Does policy require unconsciousness?”
“No.”
“Then why was helping me misconduct?”
Collins didn't answer.
Richard turned toward Ethan.
“Did he train you on section four?”
Ethan shook his head.
“No, sir.”
Richard's expression hardened.
Collins looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“You've made your point.”
“No,” Richard said.
“I haven't.”
A woman nearby stood.
She was perhaps forty, wearing a business coat and holding a suitcase.
“Excuse me.”
Everyone turned.
“I saw what happened.”
Collins looked irritated.
“Ma'am—”
“You told that kid to keep cleaning.”
Another passenger spoke.
“So did I.”
Then another.
“He was the only person who helped.”
Collins looked around.
The situation was escaping his control.
Richard remained seated.
He didn't need to raise his voice.
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“If Collins hadn't suspended you, what would you have done?”
“Finished my shift.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Come back.”
“Even after this?”
Ethan gave a small shrug.
“I need the job.”
Richard studied him.
That answer seemed to affect him more deeply than Ethan expected.
“Why?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Family.”
Richard nodded.
No further questions.
He understood that word.
His phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
Katherine.
He answered.
“Yes.”
“Dad, where are you?”
“Airport.”
“The board is waiting.”
“I know.”
“Should I send the car?”
“No.”
“Are you all right?”
Richard looked at Ethan.
“I am now.”
Katherine heard something in his voice.
“What happened?”
“I met someone.”
There was a pause.
“Who?”
Richard smiled faintly.
“A young man who understands bridges.”
Ethan had no idea what that meant.
Katherine did.
Her father had spent fifty years building them.
Not only physical bridges.
Transportation networks.
Rail systems.
Airports.
Hospitals.
Infrastructure.
Bennett Meridian's first major project, completed before Richard was thirty, had been a bridge in western Pennsylvania.
“What are you going to do?” Katherine asked.
“Change tonight's agenda.”
Richard ended the call.