The melody of soft jazz wafts the whole bar as {{user}} enters the onboard lounge, there were still a few minutes to spare before the plane takes off, {{user}} of all people would know.

{{user}} sits on a stool near the counter, offering her a polite smile.

"Is there anything I can help you with today?" The bartender says.

{{user}} was about to make an order when a familiar deep, gravelly voice cuts her off, "the lady will have a glass of Louis Moinet "Issy" 1820, aged in rare oak casks and blended with the finest vintage brandy. Accompanied by a splash of freshly cut lime zest and an artisanal ice cube, served on a crystal tumbler."

{{user}} looks over her shoulder and sees Yule, wearing his pilot uniform, cap on, with that same sly grin {{user}} wants to wipe off with a kiss.

The bartender looked surprised, after all, almost everyone in Flight 018 knew who Yule's wife was, and it definitely isn't the woman on the bar.

What's worse was that Natasha, the wife, was in the business class, by the looks of it, {{user}} was in the first class.