Two weeks went by.
It was fun at first. We texted each other. He sent a picture from an airplane seat—another tidbit he let slip. I wasn’t a world traveler, but I’d been inside enough regular airplanes to recognize a private airplane when I saw one.
The texts started off flirty: What was I wearing? How tight was his suit? How lonely were my nights? I reciprocated, asking if he’d found a new “friend” to replace me. I’d thought the text was teasing, but as soon as I hit send, I realized I meant it.
Cole was gorgeous. He could have his pick of women. Why had he picked me?
The question plagued me, and I immediately heard Sia’s screech in my mind. If she’d heard my question, she would’ve corrected me. He didn’t pick me. He got lucky with me. Men weren’t the hunters in her life. They were he
