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“Of course. She’ll lose her job.”

“And possibly be blacklisted in the industry. She’s a former Singapura Girl. They take that seriously.”

“And you’re a woman, no less. So, I’m sure they’ll very much enjoy that.”

“Pam…”

“Hey, I’m not chiding you. I merely know how you get when you’re in love. You’ll do anything to get the girl.” Pam snorted. “How did you get me, again? Sent me a dozen roses to my work every week until I figured out it was you?”

“Seven bouquets. Seven weeks it took you to figure it out.”

“I figured it out after three. I wanted to see how long you would keep at it.”

Their awkward silence was only filtered by the hum of the kitchen appliances. Eventually, Pam walked toward the front door, and Elle was compelled to get it for her.

“Stay out of trouble.”

Elle leaned against the doorway as her ex walked out into the hallway. “Sometimes I think my problem is that I don’t get into enough trouble through my work.”

“Oh, for the love of God, don’t end up in the news. The whole Bowen thing is all Celia’s social circle will ask me about. If you’re next? I’ll have to leave town.”

She said it with a smile, but Elle knew the truth behind that feminine veneer. “If you ever need anything…”

Pam turned around. “Who’s to say you’ll be in Seattle?”

“I was gonna say that I’m a phone call away, but okay, Pam.”

Laughter floated down the hallway as Pam approached the elevator. Elle wasn’t sure what to make of it. Is she making fun of me? Does she think I’m funny? Sighing, she slipped back inside her apartment and locked the door.

She didn’t stay inside for long.

Few lounges in the city did anything for her. Gone were the days when Elle wandered into an upscale bar and instantly made friends. Hell, gone were the times when she found her girlfriend of the moment that way.

These days, she kept to herself. She hung out with old acquaintances whenever they happened to be in the same city. And, sometimes, she wandered out into foggy, rainy Seattle on her own. But only if it was the weeknight and the bars weren’t packed to the gills. Including the underground ones that industry insiders liked to keep private due to public-facing jobs.

That was especially true for Skylight Lounge, which was originally founded by a retired pilot in the ‘90s and had since acquired the reputation for being a popular hangout for those in the airline industry at every level. Seattle was a hub for multiple airlines, including Delta and Alaska, and it wasn’t unusual to see their ground crew, cabin crew on layover, and pilots decorating the main bar or one of the many booths lining the wall. Once upon a time, this was my favorite haunt. Until Elle got into a relationship with Pamela, who had told her, “If we go to the Skylight one more time, I will scream.” Because of her, Elle was familiar with other places around Seattle until she became a board member of a brand-new airline.

It felt strange to be here now. Was someone at her level even welcomed?

She was inclined to sit in a booth and scroll through her phone, soaking in the ambiance of people enjoying themselves, but someone at the bar caught her eye. Someone she often saw on her flights between LA and Seattle.

“Clearly, we’re not assigning you enough flights if you’re here.” Elle sat on the stool next to Riley Lowe, the copilot who often greeted the board member when she headed for the trek up and down the West Coast. “What are you drinking? I’ll get you another one.”

Riley pulled herself up from the phone she slumped over. Once she recognized Elle, she laughed. “You’re one of the only people who sees me here. Go figure.”

“To be fair, you clean up good for work.”

“Do I? Can’t help it if I’m a flannel girl. Born and bred in rural Oregon, baby.”

She wore that kind of outfit now, adorned in a thick red flannel shirt, dowdy jeans, muddy sneakers, and a trucker hat that hid the only hair she had. A far cry from the clean-cut copilot who supposedly makes us proud.

But Riley knew how to sell whatever she was wearing. She had that effortless air about her, and it often made Elle jealous. I can dress up nicely, but dressing down? She looked like she was cosplaying. That was how Pam always put it. “Keep wearing those nice pants and jackets, hon. It’s what looks good on you.”

What was it like to be comfortable? Even Arianna always wore her hair high and tight.

“I should be asking you what you’re doing here,” Riley said, still at ease on her stool as the bartender got her another beer. “Haven’t seen you around the Skylight in a dog’s age. Thought you were too high and mighty in your ivory boardroom tower for us plebs.”

“You know how to cut a woman where it hurts the most.” Elle’s performative pout was not lost on Riley, who laughed. “I don’t live too far from here. Decided to drop by.”