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“Ma’am, can I help you?” a flight attendant asked.
“Not unless you can find the guy who took my phone,” I murmured, my face turning cold when I realized how crazy that sounded.
She frowned. “Someone took your phone?”
“Well, yes but ...” I exhaled a deep breath and ground my teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he isn’t on this plane.”
That earned me a somewhat confused look from the flight attendant, who reminded me there was a paper sack in my seat pocket if I needed it. When she walked away, I continued my search, scanning the few heads that stuck out over the seats or created silhouettes between the headrests.
I wasn’t going to find him like this; what were the odds that he was even on this flight, and I certainly wasn’t going to run up and down the aisle looking for him. I wish I’d asked where he was flying. It was just a simple mix-up. He left his own phone, which meant he wasn’t a con artist. What kind of con artist left their phone behind? It wasn’t a burner phone, but it did have a lock screen, so I couldn’t access it, so maybe he was a con artist.
No, no. I was overthinking this. We had real chemistry. He could have left in the middle of the night; he could have run out without waking me, and he was the one who purchased the hotel room. This had to be a simple mistake. I just had to use my brain. He owned a business, didn’t he? I remembered him saying something about a business trip. I had his phone, so he would surely want it back, right?
I was helpless until we landed, which seemed to take a lifetime. I tried to read and opened my presentation after pulling down my laptop—anything—but I couldn’t focus, knowing I had my quick notes on my phone, and I couldn’t remember if the picture of the map I’d taken backed up to the cloud yet.
Thank God for the cloud. At least I had everything else.
It took more effort than I imagined not to think of Ryan as a con artist after coming up with elaborate ways and reasons he could have done it, but I also had every opportunity to negate the possibility when I thought of his kindness, sincerity, and respectful nature. Con artists could fake generosity, but could they fake chemistry when I wasn’t looking for it in the first place?
I’d never been conned before, so I didn’t have an answer for that one.
When the plane finally landed, everything was a blur. I all but climbed over the man in the aisle seat, who started chewing me out and didn’t seem to stop as his voice fell away in the distance. I shuffled off the plane with the others, my mind on getting to baggage claim for one last hope of seeing Ryan.
Why would he go to Dallas, of all places? Be realistic.
I eyed my phone as I walked—his phone—reminding myself that I could try to access my phone remotely. I hadn’t tried it without my phone being nearby, but it was worth a shot if I wanted to placate my mom. If I needed that map.
Crap, and my presentation notes.
A notification on the phone made me halt my steps. It was from my number, and it was a series of numbers. Four, to be exact. It had to be from Ryan, but he had a lock on his phone. He should have known I couldn’t respond.
The password.
He wasn’t a con artist! I knew it. In a flash, I had access to all his personal things, and no one with ill intentions would do something so risky. Now, I was sure.
I jabbed the numbers into the phone, cheering quietly when the input unlocked the screen. Without delay, I dialed my number, not caring whether he was still on a flight or in a business meeting. This was an emergency.
Chapter 4
Ryan
About damn time, I thought when my number flashed on the screen. I’d wondered if her flight was longer than mine but breathed a sigh of relief and answered the call.
“Yell-o,” I said as heartily as I could. It was my fault, after all, and I could imagine her pretty face scrunched up with panic.
“Ryan!”
I chuckled. “That’s me. How’d you get my number?”
“What!”
I frowned, her flustered tone sending alarm bells in my head. I opened my mouth to reassure her I was kidding, but in the next large breath, she yelled over the radio waves.
“You idiot! You tookmyphone this morning. Where did you land? You need to send my phone back. I have to have it.”
“Calm down. Calm down,” I said, trying to swallow my frustration. “Look, I didn’t mean to take it, and I’m as inconvenienced as you are. If you need it now, you can go to the store and—”
“Not everyone is as financially secure as you are, and I have a meeting tonight that I absolutely cannot miss. A conference. I’m speaking at a conference.”
