" I forgot to tell you exactly which hall I'll be waiting for you in."
I blinked, realizing belatedly that I had answered Andrew 's call. I should still look at the phone before answering in a disgruntled tone.
" Isn't he alone? " I was sincerely surprised.
VIP lounges are usually used either by business class passengers or participants of any programs, from the category – "fly a hundred times super economy class and get one VIP lounge dinner".
" Uh, uh… What floor are you on? " He asked me with a hesitation.
I was embarrassed, although, it would seem, how could I know about the number of VIP lounges in airports?
" The first."
" Great. From the main entrance, turn left, go straight, straight, straight, straight, straight until you see the sign. Can you handle it?"
" Of course," I replied, slightly perplexed.
Judging by his tone and the way he explained it, he had already joined the bar. However, it finally became clear to me where to go. The main thing was that I didn't have to turn anywhere, otherwise I would have gotten lost.
I got to the desired place quickly, but before the entrance to the hall there was a small hitch. I was blocked by a guard who asked me if I had a ticket. And the ticket had to be a business class ticket. In fact, I didn't have any.
" My boss has the ticket, I'm a secretary," I said cheerfully.
" Secretary? And the director of the company has the ticket? " The guard asked incredulously.
I sighed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Usually it's just the opposite, the secretary has the tickets, passes, minty motion sickness pills and bags if the pills don't help. I had to pull out my phone and call Andrew , not to argue with the guard, proving that the tickets were ordered much earlier than I was employed!
" Are you Rina? " asked one of the waitresses and, after waiting for my confused "Yes", continued: " I'll show you to your table."
I exhaled with relief and smiled gratefully at the girl. Trying not to look at the confused guard, I followed her.
Andrew was sitting at a corner table, in front of him there was one glass and an almost finished bottle of whiskey. The man himself was already quite tipsy. I greeted him once more in surprise and sat down carefully.
" I hate flying," the boss confided.
I blinked in surprise, not expecting such a confession from a man. Everyone I'd known before had been desperately brave or angry, but they'd never admitted their weakness.