"I fly charter, remember?" she said. "I'm not just a stewardess. I've got a private jet license. There's a hanger just across the lake, and I rented a...row boat. That one, down there." I saw the row boat tied to the small pier on the lake. "That still doesn't tell me how you knew I was coming here," I said, lugging my bags into the cabin. Sherry laughed and held up my map, the one that had gone missing from my pocket, and the key Terry had given me. I knew it was the same. She’d submitted to her new life as a mom. Her shlumpiness certainly wasn’t getting her anywhere with Jake. Jake was just like Matt. Well, not exactly like Matt. Matt was good looking. Blonde, tan, muscular. But Jake, Jake was smoldering. Rosalind fantasized about running her fingers through his tousled dark hair. About kissing him. She wondered what his body would feel like against hers. Would he hold her around her waist pressing his hips into hers? Would he close his eyes or bore into hers. More

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