Then decided against it.
Cassandra noticed.
“No, seriously. You don’t.”
Mark looked toward Lena.
“Call airport operations.”
Cassandra laughed.
“For what?”
“Assistance.”
“What assistance?”
“You’re refusing to return to the restaurant.”
“I am not refusing.”
“Then come back.”
“I’m not going back in there.”
Mark nodded.
“That’s refusal.”
Cassandra looked at Lena.
“This is your fault.”
Lena said nothing.
“You could have handled this normally.”
“I tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Mark took out his phone.
Cassandra raised her voice.
“Do not call security.”
“I’m calling airport operations.”
“Same thing.”
“You’re making this bigger than it needs to be.”
Cassandra pointed at him.
“No. You are.”
Twenty minutes earlier, the situation had been a declined card.
Now an airport police officer was walking toward them.
Officer Daniel Brooks had been assigned to Terminal C for six years.
He was forty-four, calm, soft-spoken, and deeply familiar with a category of airport problem that he privately called the ticking clock.
The ticking clock was not a person.
It was a condition.
Airports created invisible countdowns.
Flights departed.
Boarding doors closed.
Bags disappeared down conveyor belts.
Connections were missed.
The more people felt time running out, the less rational they became.
Daniel could often predict exactly when somebody would lose control by how often they looked at the departure board.
Cassandra checked hers every fifteen seconds.
Daniel approached.
“Afternoon.”
Mark nodded.
“Officer.”
Cassandra immediately stepped forward.
“Thank God.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What’s going on?”
“These people are trying to stop me from boarding my flight.”
Mark sighed.
Daniel raised one hand.
“I’ll talk to everyone.”
Cassandra continued.
“My cards are working. Their system is not. Now she’s accusing me of stealing.”
Lena shook her head.
“I never said that.”
Cassandra pointed.
“She followed me out of the restaurant.”
“Because you didn’t pay.”
Daniel looked at Cassandra.
“Did you pay the bill?”
“I tried.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Cassandra stared at him.
“My cards declined because their machine has a problem.”
Daniel looked at Lena.
“Other transactions working?”
“Yes.”
Mark nodded.
“Everything else is processing.”
Daniel turned back.
“What’s the total?”
“Sixty-two eighteen,” Lena said.
Daniel almost smiled.
He stopped himself.
Cassandra noticed anyway.
“This is funny to you?”
“No.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“You were.”
Daniel ignored that.
“Do you have another way to pay?”