The Intern Stole My Airline Miles

Ever since the new intern at our company found out I hold a lifetime Platinum card with Apex Airlines, her attitude toward me became suspiciously warm.

Right before the Memorial Day weekend, she slid over to my desk and batted her eyelashes. Sarah, do you want to fly to Paris with me for the holiday? If we use your miles to book the tickets, we wouldn't have to spend a dime.

I politely declined, telling her I had plans with my family. I didn't expect her to cross her arms and casually drop a threat. "Well, if you aren't going, then I'll just go by myself."

My heart skipped a beat at those words. A flight to Paris, even a cheap economy ticket, would cost well over a thousand dollars.

This girl was so cheap she smuggled rolls of toilet paper out of the office bathroom. How could she suddenly afford a European vacation?

The more I thought about it, the more something felt off. Was she plotting to steal the miles off my Platinum card?

My gut instinct was spot on. She actually tried to hack into my loyalty account behind my back, using my hard-earned miles to book four luxurious First-Class tickets for her entire family.

But she didn't stop there. She booked the VIP lounge, premium in-flight Wi-Fi, and even pre-ordered expensive duty-free luxury goods under my name.

When her family was sitting in the VIP lounge, stuffing their faces and eagerly waiting to board their luxury flight, reality hit them like a freight train.

I was staring at my monitor, frantically trying to finalize a pitch deck, when our new intern, Jessica, leaned over my partition with an overly sweet smile.

"Sarah, you've been working so hard this month. The Memorial Day long weekend is coming up. Want to take a trip to Paris together?" "Domestic tourist traps are going to be a nightmare. Paris is gorgeous this time of year. We should totally go."

I had already promised my family a trip to Florida for the long weekend, so I shut the idea down. "I'm spending the holiday with my family. I can't go."

Her face immediately fell. Trying to soften the blow, I suggested an alternative. "I don't think Riley has any plans for the weekend. Why don't you ask her?"

Jessica's expression soured even more. "Her? She's so broke she probably couldn't even afford the passport renewal fee. If I travel with her, I'd end up subsidizing her whole trip. It's way more fun traveling with you, Sarah. You're like a walking blank check."

She had always been a gold digger with a massive superiority complex, looking down on anyone she deemed beneath her.

I was going to laugh it off and get back to work, but my brain snagged on her exact phrasing. What did she mean by a blank check? Did she honestly expect me to fund a European getaway for the two of us and act as her personal ATM?

She must have noticed the shift in my expression because she awkwardly laughed and quickly changed the subject. "Well, since you aren't going, I guess I'll just go by myself."

I watched her walk away, my suspicions kicking into overdrive.

Jessica had only joined the firm three months ago as an intern, and I was her direct supervisor. She was a textbook social climber, obsessed with money but completely unwilling to spend her own. Every single day, she swiped a box of premium tissues from the supply closet before clocking out. She regularly emptied the reception snack bowl into her purse. Worse, she borrowed money and suffered from sudden amnesia when it was time to pay it back. Last week, she borrowed fifty bucks from Riley to cover her electric bill and still hadn't returned a single cent.

There was no way she could afford a last-minute flight to Paris on a holiday weekend, let alone the exorbitant costs of European hotels and dining. Even with my salary, I would have to budget for a trip like that. Where was her money coming from?

Then it clicked. A cold realization washed over me. She wanted to use my Platinum miles to book her tickets.

A month ago, a colleague in our department had a family emergency. His father was critically ill, and all the last-minute flights home were sold out. I called Apex Airlines, gave them my Platinum member number, and used my miles to secure him a seat on the next flight out.

Jessica must have assumed that all you needed to book a free flight was a member ID. Now that I thought about it, she had asked an uncomfortable amount of questions that day. "Do you just give them your phone number?" "Can anyone in your family use it?" "Do you get a text alert when a flight is booked?"

She had interrogated me like a detective. I had brushed it off at the time, casually mentioning that I got so much spam from the airline that I never checked their text alerts anyway. I distinctly remember her eyes lighting up. She had smiled a little too brightly.

Looking back, that smile was pure, calculated greed.

My lifetime Platinum status with Apex Airlines was the result of over a decade of grueling business travel. It took millions of flown miles to earn. The points sitting in that account were enough to book over a dozen First-Class international flights, complete with VIP lounge access and duty-free shopping perks.

It wasn't about being stingy. If a coworker was in a genuine crisis, I was more than happy to help. But the sheer audacity of Jessica casually planning to commit identity theft and drain my account filled me with absolute disgust.

Still, I couldn't exactly confront her without proof. After some careful thought, I picked up my phone and dialed the airline's customer service line.

"Hi there. I have a security question. If someone knows my frequent flyer number, can they redeem my miles for a ticket without my explicit consent?"

The representative replied almost instantly. "Please don't worry, Ms. Davis. Redeeming miles requires not only your member ID but also a two-factor authentication code sent directly to your personal mobile device. Without that code, no booking can be finalized."

"When you booked a flight for your colleague previously, you were calling from your registered phone number, which verified your identity automatically. Rest assured, if a third party tries to use your account online or at a desk, the system will demand the authentication code."

Perfect. As long as she needed a code sent to my phone, Jessica's little scheme was dead in the water. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. I didn't have to cause a scene at the office, and my miles were safe.

The next morning, I had just sat down at my desk when Jessica strutted into the office. She looked completely different. She was wearing heavy, glamorous makeup and a pair of ridiculously high designer heels. A shiny gold bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

She intentionally rolled up her sleeves and paraded around the open-plan office, making sure everyone got a good look.

"Oh, this?" she said loudly. "My dad just got back from Paris and bought it for me. It's Cartier. I told him not to spend so much, but he just insists on spoiling me."

I glanced at her wrist. The metal looked cheap and too yellow. The engraving was blurry. It looked like it came straight out of a vending machine. As someone who frequently shopped at high-end boutiques, I could spot a counterfeit from a mile away. That thing was a cheap knockoff from Temu, worth maybe twenty bucks at most.

Brenda from accounting let out a sharp laugh. "Wow, Jessica. Cartier is seriously expensive. How much did that set your dad back?"

Thrilled that someone had taken the bait, Jessica launched into an elaborate, entirely fictional backstory about the bracelet. When it finally came to the price, she waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it wasn't that much. Only around thirty grand. My dad told me to just wear it for fun as a reward for surviving my first three months of the internship. Money isn't really an issue for my family anyway."

Riley, who was taking a sip of her morning coffee, nearly choked. My phone buzzed with a direct message from her. "Thirty grand for that cheap junk? I literally saw the exact same one on Wish.com last night for 0-03.80 with free shipping."

I let out a soft snort of laughter.

Completely oblivious to the awkward atmosphere, Jessica kept bragging. "For the long weekend, my whole family is flying to Paris. Four tickets. First Class, obviously."

Another coworker raised an eyebrow. "Is Paris really all that?"

Jessica scoffed, looking at him with pure disdain. "Paris is the ultimate luxury experience. You don't know what true civilization and high culture look like until you've been to Europe. But I guess people who have never been just wouldn't understand."

She kept talking, hyping up France as if even the oxygen there was superior. But everyone had lost interest. People turned back to their monitors and put their headphones on.

Realizing her audience had evaporated, Jessica packed up her ego and sauntered over to my desk. "Sarah, you've probably never been to Europe, right? If you come with me this weekend, we could book a luxury spa hotel and get massages." "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to come?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I promised my family I'd spend the holiday with them. Plus, I have to drop a friend off at the airport. I'll pass."

Jessica's fake smile stiffened. "What a shame. Maybe next time."

She stared at me for a few agonizingly long seconds. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, calculating her next move. I pretended not to notice and went back to typing. But the whole interaction left a bad taste in my mouth. She was definitely plotting something.

That night, after working late, I was scrolling through Instagram on my couch. A post from Jessica popped up. It was a glossy, filtered photo of the Eiffel Tower. The caption read: Paris bound for the long weekend! Living my best life!

Underneath, a coworker had commented: Look at you, flying international for the holiday! Must be nice to be rich.

Jessica replied: Hehe, the world is my oyster! When your family has the means, you have to explore the globe.

Reading her replies brought that uneasy feeling rushing back. It felt exactly like being targeted by a con artist. Everything I owned was earned through years of sleepless nights and relentless hard work. If this girl managed to exploit a loophole and drain the miles I had spent a decade accumulating, I would be genuinely furious.

I opened the airline app and checked my balance. Everything was normal. Still paranoid, I called customer service one more time. "Hi, I just need to be absolutely certain. If someone has my account number and password, is it physically impossible for them to book a ticket without the SMS code?"

The agent was very patient. "Yes, Ms. Davis. We recently upgraded our security protocols. Even if they somehow guessed your password, the system will not authorize a booking without the two-factor authentication code. For high-value transactions like First Class international flights, it even prompts for facial recognition on the app. No one can steal your miles."

I finally relaxed.

The morning of the holiday weekend, I drove my friend to the international terminal. After dropping her off, I walked past the Apex Airlines VIP Lounge, planning to grab a quick espresso before heading home.

As I approached the frosted glass doors, a familiar figure caught my eye. It was Jessica.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stood out of sight, observing the scene through the glass walls.

Jessica was standing in the center of the ultra-exclusive lounge with her parents and younger brother. The contrast was jarring. Her parents were wearing faded, worn-out clothes that looked like they came from a thrift store bargain bin. Her brother's jacket was visibly stained with grease. It completely shattered the "old money heiress" illusion she maintained at the office.

Her brother was standing at the gourmet buffet, grabbing handfuls of food with his bare hands, taking a bite, and throwing the half-eaten pieces back onto the trays.

A lounge attendant rushed over, keeping a polite customer-service tone. "Excuse me, young man. Please use the tongs provided."

Jessica's mother rolled her eyes dramatically. "He's just a kid, his hands aren't dirty. Why are you being so bossy?"

Meanwhile, Jessica's father was walking around with five plates stacked high with enough food to feed an army, far more than they could ever eat. When the staff looked away, the mother pulled several plastic grocery bags from her oversized purse and started shoveling fresh pastries and expensive fruit directly into them.

Instead of stopping them, Jessica actually helped. "Mom, these artisan cakes are super expensive outside. Grab a few more. They're delicious."

The younger brother started sprinting laps around the quiet lounge, shrieking at the top of his lungs. The wealthy business travelers around them glared in absolute disgust. Jessica's family didn't care at all.

Her mother laughed loudly, her voice booming through the glass. "This place is fantastic! That coworker of yours is amazing for letting us use this for free!"

Jessica flipped her hair, looking incredibly smug. "Of course. I basically do all her work for her at the office. She owes me big time. She practically begged me to use her account."

She lied with such flawless conviction it was almost impressive. I let out a dark, quiet laugh. When exactly did I owe her a favor?

Listening to her boast, everything fell into place. It wasn't me being paranoid. She genuinely believed she had successfully stolen my Platinum benefits.

Thank god I had double-checked the security protocols. If I hadn't, this leech would have actually gotten away with it.

Jessica set up a small tripod on a table and started vlogging inside the lounge, even harassing the waitstaff into taking family photos of them.

Minutes later, she updated her Instagram with a nine-photo carousel, tagging her location at the VIP First Class Lounge. The first photo was the Boeing jet on the tarmac. The second was the luxurious interior of the lounge. The third was a selfie of her posing with a crystal coffee cup, trying to look like a brooding billionaire. The fourth was a massive table covered in high-end food, featuring a massive, perfectly roasted whole lobster.

The caption read: The lunch spread at the VIP lounge is to die for. You can even order whole Maine lobsters a la carte! So blessed. The service is a bit mediocre though, they really need to train their staff better!

I zoomed in on the last photo. I could clearly see the menu price for the a la carte lobster. Two thousand dollars.

Seeing that price tag made me laugh out loud. She wasn't just stealing; she was trying to bleed my account dry. Did this idiot actually think she could pay for a la carte luxury dining with frequent flyer miles?

The comments section on her post was pure gold. Wow, Jessica is loaded! Dropping two grand on a lobster while waiting for a flight! Wait, don't you need a lifetime Platinum card to even get into that specific lounge? Living the dream! So jealous!

Jessica replied with her signature fake humility. Oh, it's nothing special. Just my standard travel routine!

A few of our colleagues couldn't resist calling her out. If you're so rich, why did HR publicly reprimand you for stealing toilet paper from the office bathroom last week?

I snorted. Just last month, the office manager caught Jessica stuffing her tote bag with premium coffee pods and paper towels. She was officially written up and ordered to pay fifty bucks to restock the supplies. She had made a million excuses, trying to get out of paying, until the accounting department threatened to deduct it directly from her paycheck. She finally paid the fine, glaring at everyone. The very next day, she went right back to stealing paper towels. Her greed truly knew no bounds.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my hand. It was a call from Apex Airlines customer service.

"Hello, Ms. Davis. We have a situation at the terminal. A Ms. Jessica gave the desk agent your frequent flyer number, claiming to be your immediate family member. She requested to use your miles to book four First-Class tickets to Paris." "Due to a system error on our end regarding guest passes, they were temporarily allowed into the lounge while the booking was pending. However, the transaction requires your SMS verification to process. Did you authorize this redemption?"

I didn't hesitate. "I am not flying today, and I absolutely did not authorize anyone to use my miles or my account."

The agent's voice turned strictly professional. "Understood, Ms. Davis. Furthermore, her party has accrued a significant bill for a la carte dining inside the lounge. Do you authorize the charge to the credit card linked to your profile?"

"Absolutely not. That has nothing to do with me."

"Understood completely. We will handle the situation immediately."

I hung up the phone and looked through the glass one last time. Jessica and her family were still tearing into their lobster, completely oblivious.

I shook my head, let out a cold laugh, and walked away from the airport.

An hour later, I pulled into my driveway. When I checked my phone, I had 99+ unread text messages and over a hundred missed calls. All from Jessica.

Before I could open the chat, a text notification popped up from the airline. Dear Member, a request has been made to deduct 500,000 miles from your Platinum account ending in 6688 for four First-Class tickets and VIP lounge access. If you authorize this, reply with code 27054. If you did not authorize this, reply NO.