My mom opened and closed one kitchen drawer after another in obvious frustration. “How many sets of silverware does a person need? Jesus criminy, where are the chopping knives?”

I smiled as I opened the drawer below the chopping block next to the range and pulled a Japanese chef’s knife out of the built-in knife block in the drawer. “Here,” I said, passing it to her.

“This house has been renovated a lot since the last time I was here,” she said, looking around the enormous kitchen at the beach house. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

Today was the first day my mom would spend the night in the beach house. Leslie had stayed in the apartment with her for the past eleven days, while Petra, Trey, and I scoured the house for anything we would not be keeping. But before I even stepped foot in the house again, Petra and Trey removed everything from the bedroom my father had created for me.

I didn’t want to see any of it. I didn’t want to see the frilly fabrics and princess decor. I didn’t want to be reminded of the kind of daughter he had wanted. Most of all, I didn’t want to be poisoned by the belief that somewhere deep down, he loved me.

Petra insisted that whether I wanted her to or not, she would take lots of video and plenty of pictures of the room. And everything they removed would be saved, in case I had a change of heart later on.

We brought surprisingly few boxes of my belongings from my apartment. I moved my things into the guest room, where I’d slept with Daniel almost two months ago. I put my mom’s things in the guest bedroom downstairs. Neither of us were keen on sleeping in the master bedroom.

“Where’s the mint?” Petra asked, peering into the enormous refrigerator.

“It’s in a glass of water by the sink,” I replied.

We had been preparing tonight’s dinner for almost two hours and I still felt as if we were forgetting something. Despite the fact that Daniel and I had reversed our roles, I couldn’t help but think of him as a sophisticated gentleman I needed to impress. After all, he was the one who got lessons in how to be a fancy rich guy from Sabrina.

Daniel was the number-one reason I was certain money couldn’t buy class, because he was the essence of class from the moment we met, and every day since.

I finished cubing the watermelon and tossing it with the feta and mint leaves Petra had retrieved for me. The doorbell rang as I placed the salad on the large twelve-seat dining table that overlooked the veranda and the ocean.

Petra wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that Kevin Costner?” she said, calling Daniel by her new nickname for him, which referred to Kevin Costner’s role in the movie The Bodyguard. “And Iiiiiiiiiiiiii-ee-Iiiiiiiiiii will always love youuuuuu…” she sang as I left the room to answer the door.

As I walked through the kitchen and down the corridor toward the foyer, I couldn’t help but recognize how strange it felt to walk such a long distance just to answer the door. In our old apartment, when the doorbell rang, my mom would sometimes stretch her arm out to open the door from her hospital bed. It almost made me feel guilty.

Arriving at the front door, I pulled it open and was not prepared for how happy I would be to see Daniel, or how devilishly handsome he would look, after not seeing him for almost two weeks. Unable to control myself, I threw my arms around his neck. He grunted from the force of my hug, and I quickly remembered his shoulder injury.

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,” I apologized as I let him go, and immediately reached for his left shoulder, stopping just short of touching him.

He laughed. “I’m fine. It’s been more than a month,” he said, reaching up to grasp my hand and place it on his shoulder. “I’ve been working with the physical therapist, and she thinks I should be able to start lifting again in a couple weeks. And with the titanium plate in there, I may end up even stronger than before.” He flexed his muscles for me to feel.

I rolled my eyes. “Did she say when you’d be ready to graduate from Superhero Academy?”

He smiled. “God, I fucking love you. Come here,” he said, pulling me into a bear hug.

I buried my face in his smooth neck, breathing in the clean scent of his skin and wishing we could just spend the rest of the day right here in this position. Unable to control myself, I licked his neck, savoring the sound of his laughter.

“Settle down, Picasso,” he said, releasing me and turning around to grab a silver gift bag off the front step. “This is for your mom.”

I smiled as I took the bag and tried to peek inside.

“Watch it, young lady. That’s not yours,” he said, grabbing my free hand and leading me across the foyer toward the corridor.

“Is it weird that you probably know this house better than I do?” I asked, as he led us through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“Everything is weird to you,” he said, as I allowed him to lead me through the kitchen and into the dining area.

Petra gasped when she saw him. “Holy shit!”

Daniel looked back and forth between Petra and me, clearly confused. “What? What’s going on?”

I shook my head, then whispered in his ear, “Be prepared for Petra to say something very inappropriate about how handsome you are.”

Daniel chuckled as he turned back toward the table. “You must be the famous Petra.”

Petra glanced at Trey, who was sitting next to her at the dining table. “You must be…very, very, ridiculously good looking.”

Daniel smiled, unable to hide the slight blush in his cheeks. “Uh…thanks?”

Daniel helped me serve dinner, after which my mother wanted to open her gift from Daniel, but he insisted she open it in private. When he said this, he and Petra exchanged a look that made me wonder if she knew what was in the silver bag.

My mom was all too eager to have a secret she could keep from me. She gladly hid the gift under the table and out of my reach.

After Daniel and I cleared the table, Trey and Petra insisted on doing the dishes, while I took Daniel upstairs to show him something.

“No funny business while you two are up there,” my mom said as Daniel and I began to leave. “No one wants to hear that. We just ate.”

Petra and Trey laughed as they loaded the dishwasher. “You tell her, Mom,” Petra agreed, pumping her fist in the air.

I shook my head as I dragged Daniel out of the kitchen to avoid any more embarrassment. “You’d think they’ve known you all their lives the way they act,” I said, leading him up the stairs.

“They’re real. I love that.”

We entered the guest room and suddenly the atmosphere changed. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and all the memories of the things we’d done in this bedroom were projected onto every surface. When I looked at Daniel to see if he felt the same shift in the mood, the hungry look in his eyes made me feel naked.

As if there were a magnet in his hand, he automatically placed his hand on the small of my back as he looked down at me. “Maybe we should give them a little concert,” he said, flashing me a seductive smile.

I smiled as I reached up and placed my hand on the scruff of his jaw. “First, I have something you need to see.”

He lay his hand over mine, then he turned his head slowly and placed a tender kiss on the palm of my hand. “The stage is yours.”

“Before I show you, I want you to know that I spoke to my old academic advisor at NYU.”

His eyes widened with excitement. “Go on…”

“He said I could probably still return on my scholarship if I returned by next fall. But I told him I don’t need the scholarship. I just need to know I can come back. So, once I get all this probate stuff worked out, I’m going back to school.”

He clenched his jaw as he seemed to be having some type of emotional reaction I couldn’t read, then he shook his head and planted a hard kiss on my forehead. “You make me proud to know you.”

I chuckled uncomfortably. “Well, I hope I don’t let you down.”

“You could never,” he replied, with complete conviction. “But, before you show me whatever it is you brought me here for, I forgot I also have a gift for you.”

I feigned surprise. “Oh, you mean this is a gift I can actually open?”

He smiled. “Actually, Miss Smartypants, this gift isn’t even wrapped.” He pulled a silver USB drive out of his jeans pocket and handed it to me. “This is a collection of my favorite elevator music,” he began, ignoring my laughter. “You can see the gift I gave your mom once you’ve memorized every song on this USB drive.”

I shook my head. “You’re like an evil mastermind of torture. This is sadistic.”

He shrugged unapologetically. “You’d better break out those earbuds, baby, ’cause you’ve got work to do.”

I sighed as I tossed the USB drive onto my unmade bed, half-hoping that it would somehow get lost before I had to listen to it. “My turn,” I said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the windows overlooking the swimming pool and the ocean, which was when I saw Leslie wheeling my mom over the wooden pathway leading to the beach. “Look at that…” I said, my voice trailing off as I watched them.

“Is that what you wanted to show me?” Daniel said, but almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw what I had brought him upstairs to see.

Standing on top of a round table a few feet away, in front of the center window overlooking the ocean, was my latest sculpture. I’d spent most of my nights over the past two weeks obsessing over this piece.

Realism was not my strong suit, especially since I began my foray into surreal and cubist styles so many years ago. But I wanted this piece to convey emotion that Daniel could easily interpret.

The woman wore a flowing dress, the skirt of which she gripped in her slender hands as she danced to what I imagined was a lush, romantic rhythm. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted as she felt the music deep inside her.

“I put her here so she can dance in the sunrise,” I said, feeling even more exposed and vulnerable than I had when we stepped into the room.

Daniel stood in complete silence as he stared at the sculpture. Maybe he didn’t mean it literally when he asked me to name my next sculpture after his mom. Every moment that passed as I waited for him to break the silence made me more certain I had messed up.

Then, he turned to me and gently grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me close so he could look me straight in the eye. “Are you real?”

I sighed with relief as I smiled up at him. “Define real.”

His mouth fell over mine, stealing my breath as he parted my lips with his tongue. He held my face firmly as my arms fell slack at my sides, as if his kiss was siphoning the energy from my entire body. My knees were about to buckle when he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“I have another surprise for you in my car,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper heavy with longing. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

As he let go of my face, I had to stop myself from reaching for him. He reached the bedroom door and my stomach fluttered as he glanced back at me and smiled before disappearing into the corridor. As I waited for him, I wandered toward the bed, thinking I would search for the USB drive. But when I reached the foot of the bed, I thought of what Daniel had said when he’d handed me the memory stick. “You can see the gift I gave your mom once you’ve memorized every song on this USB drive.”

The first image that popped into my mind was a diamond ring. I shook my head at the silliness. Daniel and I had known each other less than two months. His gift to my mother would be something more immediately meaningful. But, then, why wasn’t I allowed to see it yet?

I let out a frustrated sigh as I began digging through my messy bedsheets for the USB drive. “Aha!” I said, holding up the memory stick and staring at it, wondering if perhaps, hidden in one of the songs, was the reason Daniel had kept my mom’s gift a secret.

Walking around to the side of the bed, I shook my head in dismay as I surrendered to the harsh reality that I would have to listen to every song on this drive. I placed the stick on the nightstand. When I turned around, I found Daniel standing in the doorway, watching me with a gorgeous smile.

“Stay there,” he said, then he stepped out of the doorframe for a moment, disappearing into the hallway.

He reappeared with a cardboard box in his good hand. The box looked to be about the same size as the box I’d sent him, which had contained a very expensive original Picasso. He gently set the box down on the floor, propping it up against the wall, then he disappeared into the corridor again. He returned with another cardboard box, smaller than the first, which he propped up against the wall next to the other one.

“What are those?” I asked.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the packages. “This is actually not a gift for you. It’s a gift from you to me,” he replied, smiling at my obvious confusion. “It’s the only gift I want from you. Well, other than your sexy body.”

I rolled my eyes as he let go of my hand and began lifting the top flap of the box. “This is turning out to be a very interesting gift-giving session,” I muttered.

He looked up at me as he reached his hand inside. “Oh, it’s going to get even more interesting later,” he said with a wink. His hand emerged from the box, lifting out a canvas artwork I recognized as the mountain scene I’d painted on our first date. “This is the only gift I want from you,” he said, gently resting the canvas against the box it came out of. “I have no doubt that one day this will be just as priceless as that one,” he said, pointing at the other box, which was obviously the Picasso.

I cocked an eyebrow. “How the hell did you get that?”

“I know people,” he replied, then laughed at my unamused expression. “I called Layla, the director of the studio, and she told me Rebecca, the birthday girl, took your painting home that night. Layla was kind enough to give me the parents’ phone number, and they were very understanding when I told them why I wanted it.”

“You took it away from Rebecca?”

He shook his head. “No, no. It wasn’t like that,” he said, walking toward me. “Rebecca’s mom said that once they got it home, Rebecca didn’t want the painting in her bedroom. So it’s been sitting in their garage for the past month and a half.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”

He reached forward and my heart raced as he grabbed my waist to pull me flush against him. “Rebecca’s mom said she would give me the painting in exchange for sex.”

“In exchange for what?” I shrieked.

He leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering long enough for me to feel his smile curving against my lips. “God damn. You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”

I made a very weak attempt at pushing him away. “So that first box is my gift to you… Then, why is that other box here?”

He grabbed both my hands as he looked me in the eye. “I know you wanted me to have that Picasso, but I can’t accept that kind of gift from you. That’s just not the way my mother raised me.” He pressed a finger over my lips as I opened my mouth to protest. “No, you won’t change my mind. My mom raised me to take care of her and my siblings. I’ve always been the one who protected them. The one who cared for their every need. If I take that painting, it won’t be me taking care of them anymore. And, before you say it, no, this does not make me a sexist little shit.”

I laughed. “Oh, really? Because it sure sounds like a giant load of sexist bullshit.”

He shook his head and pointed to the painting of the mountain scene. “Remember what I said to you in that art studio while you painted that beautiful piece: Never be afraid to be yourself. Well, I take that to heart. Especially after pretending to be someone else for so long, I don’t ever want to pretend with you again.” He grabbed both my hands again, giving them a gentle squeeze to emphasize his point. “Baby, this is just me being me. If this is going to work between us, you have to let me take care of you.”

“But you will be taking care of me, as my bodyguard,” I said, mentally cursing myself as I realized I was pouting like a teenager.

He smiled as his hand cupped the side of my face. “And I’ll kill for you, as your bodyguard or not.” He softly swept his thumb over my cheekbone as he gazed into my eyes. “There are a lot of good things that came out of this deception, and the best thing is you. But the crash course Sabrina gave me in rich guy manners and ‘How to Sound Like a Warren Buffett Wannabe’ actually lit a fire in me… I’m going back to school, too, to get a degree in finance.”

An enormous grin spread across my face as tears welled up in my eyes. “We can be study partners?”

He chuckled as he reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek. “Hell fucking yes.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist as I buried my face in the warmth of his solid chest. “I’ll take back the Picasso if you agree to acknowledge that I did nothing to earn that Picasso or any of this other crap I inherited.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I guess.”

“So technically,” I continued, “the only reason this wealth is mine and not yours is because my parents boned then my dad died, which is a pretty stupid way to earn something.” I tilted my head back to look up at him, seeing the look of recognition in his eyes. He knew what I was going to say. “Which means that I have about as much of a right to this money as you do.”

His face was serious as he looked me straight in the eye and said, “I don’t want any of it.”

I swallowed hard as I stared right back into his brilliant green eyes. “I don’t either, but I’m stuck with it. And you’re stuck with me. And just like you, I was also raised to take care of the people I love.”

His serious expression softened as he seemed to surrender to these words. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

He smiled as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “That it will be at least four more years before I’ll be able to outsmart you in these kinds of arguments.”

I shook my head as I smiled up at him. “Never gonna happen.”