Page 55 of Beginnings By the Sea

“What was that all about?” I asked.

It was clear whatever Cohen had said made Miles mad.

The engine purred softly as Cohen pulled out onto the main road, his gaze never leaving the asphalt. Finally, he shrugged, his features etched with a hint of amusement.

“He’s not happy you’re going out with me tonight. Surely, you’re not surprised by that.”

His deep laugh made my stomach clench, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I wouldn't be too pleased if the situation was reversed and Miles was going out with an ex-girlfriend.

“No. I know he’s not happy.”

Staring out at the passing landscape, I noticed we’d left the ocean view behind and were heading inland. The car smelled like Cohen’s cologne, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk; it was utterly different from Miles’s scent, which was crisp and cool like peppermint.

“Where are we going?” I wondered.

Cohen’s grin widened and we turned down a long tree-lined road. I couldn’t see anything beyond the trees.

“You’re about to find out,” he said, his face full of excitement.

My breath caught once we rounded the bend in the road and I saw what awaited us; a private airfield with a sleek white jet parked on the runway.

Cohen pulled up to the small airstrip and parked his car.

“You ready?”

I turned to him and lifted my brows. “You never said anything about flying anywhere.”

Laughing, Cohen waved a hand dismissively in the air. “We’re not going far. Driving would take about five hours, but we can fly there in one.” He placed a hand reassuringly over mine. “It’ll be fun. You’ll like where we’re going.”

He stepped out, took off his sunglasses, and walked over to the jet, where the pilot waited by the steps leading into the plane.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Miles.

Me: Looks like I’ll be home a little later than I thought.

Cohen turned to me and waved for me to join him.

“The jet’s ready!” he called out.

I was hoping Miles would text before I got on the jet, but as soon as Cohen and I were inside, the engines hummed.

Soon enough, the plane was soaring through the air, its engines roaring like an animal in flight. As we zoomed past thick clouds and away from the city lights, my cell phone signal faded into nothingness.

26

MILES

After seeing Nyla’s text, my chest tightened with fury. I had no clue what she meant, but I knew it involved Cohen’s scheming.

I tried to call and text her back, yet received no response.

As the minutes dragged on and my anxiety swelled, I decided to grab the takeout order from The Beachcomber that I had placed earlier. The parking lot was filled with cars and the sky was darkening ominously with thick clouds promising a storm.

When I opened my car door and placed the to-go bag onto the passenger seat, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Startled, I whirled around to find a young woman with long blonde hair standing behind me.

She appeared frazzled and desperate as she chewed her bottom lip nervously. “I apologize for bothering you,” she began haltingly, “but my car has a flat tire, and it looks like it’s about to start storming any minute now. I don’t want to be stuck in this parking lot with no one to help me once it starts.”

There was something familiar about the woman, but I couldn’t place her.

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