As soon as we stop Vaughn is off the phone. “OK, ready?” he asks, taking my hand.

“For?”

The door opens from the outside and Vaughn tugs on my hand as he exits the car, pulling me along with him. I step out into the familiar lot and blink back the bright sunshine. Somewhere church bells are ringing. “I feel like I’ve been gone forever.”

Vaughn just smiles wide as he leads me up to the back door.

“Shit,” I say. “I don’t even know where my key is. I think I left it back in Vegas!”

“I had your stuff packed up from your room, Grace. It’s upstairs. But you won’t need it.”

“I need it to get in the building!” But as soon as the words come out, Vaughn jingles a keychain at me. “You have a key to my building?”

He shakes his head and inserts the key in the lock. “You mean”—he pushes the door open and I step inside, confused—“my building?”

“What. The. Fuck?”

“Grace, language, please.”

But I just swat his arm off me as I try to take in what I’m seeing. “Where am I?”

He chuckles. “Your building.”

“No,” I say back. “My building doesn’t have a doorman and a security lobby.”

“It does now. Grace,” he says, leading me over to the man at the desk that wasn’t there last week, “this is Bigmy. Leo Bigmy. He’s in charge of building security.”

Mr. Bigmy has one of those describing names. He’s a very big man who looks more like a bouncer than a doorman. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits him nicely, but it can’t hide the muscles underneath. “My pleasure to meet you,” he says in a thick Eastern European accent, “Mrs. Asher.”

“It’s Kinsella. And you can call me Grace.” I look up at Vaughn, questions all over my face, because he just starts explaining as he leads me to the stairs.

“Bigmy is new. A local, incorruptible, at least for the right price. And my price was right, wasn’t it, Bigmy?’

“Yes, sir. No one gets in the door without an access card.”

And then Vaughn produces said access card and places it in my hand. “That’s yours. It’s the only way to enter the building. You have to key in a code as well. Two-step security.”

I look around for a second. My lobby has been transformed. In addition to the desk, there’s a new hardwood floor, new drapes on the two windows that face the street, a fire in the fireplace that used to look like it hadn’t been lit in a hundred years, and a cozy seating area in front of the flickering flames. “I don’t understand.”

“I bought the building, Grace. The day I had to cancel our first Twitter date. I’m sorry for that, by the way. Conner gave me a heads-up on the reporters lurking around Sam and I took it one step further and included you in my heightened security.”

“You bought this building?” It’s sort of blowing my mind.

“And upgraded your security. And your apartment, as well. That asshole across the hall, gone.”

“Gone?” I’m still staring at the lobby, but he’s leading me to the stairs now.

“I wanted to put in an elevator, but these old buildings. Too many permits. I had to grease a lot of palms to get this done while you were out of town as it is. Maybe later we can put in an elevator?”

“Later?”

We walk up the stairs and he continues talking. “Whole new apartment, Grace. Everything new, but of course I kept all your old stuff too. The decorator said you have nice taste, she…”

I stop listening because I’m just too stunned to understand what’s happening. When we get to my floor I don’t even know where I am. There used to be a small hallway here. That same hallway where I gave Vaughn a blow job in front of the neighbor. But now it’s gone. In its place is a door.

“Here’s your new apartment.”

Vaughn punches in a security code and the door beeps. There’s a man standing off to the side looking a little too much like a Secret Service guy with his wrist microphone and dark sunglasses.

The door opens and the sunshine floods my face, making me cover my eyes from the glare. I step inside and move away from the sun.

My apartment is huge. As it should be when one knocks down walls and combines two places into one. “I have this whole floor?” There were only two apartments up here to begin with, and now there is only one. “Laundry room?”

“Oh,” Vaughn says, pointing down the hall. “Inside now. I can’t stand the thought of you having to leave the apartment to do laundry. That’s a security risk I won’t have.”

I walk forward and my fingertips trace down the smooth silver granite countertops of my brand new kitchen. The cabinets are black and the appliances are stainless. There are so many details I love about this kitchen, I can barely take them all in.

I look over at the new living room. It’s decorated in neutral grays with pink accents. It softens the modern colors in the kitchen and makes it much more feminine.

“Well.” I take a big long breath and let it out. “I’m not sure what to say.”

And that’s when I see the cat. Sitting on the windowsill, licking its paw so it can clean its face.

“You said you loved cats, remember? Back on the beach in Saint Thomas? But the building had a no-pets policy.”

I squint my eyes. Did I say that? How does he remember all that stuff?

“She’s a shelter cat, Grace. Adoption is our thing, right?”

And then I smile. And relax a little. “It is, yes.” I walk over to the cat. She’s big and orange and has some subtle tiger-striping. She stops her cleaning to peer up at me, then promptly goes back to her business.

“They called her Layla, but you can name her whatever you want.”

“Layla,” I whisper. “I have my own cat.” I turn around and look up at Vaughn. “Why did you do this?”

“I want to keep you safe and make you happy.” It comes out so quickly, it has to be true.

I want to ask him so many more questions. Why? All of them are whys. Why me, mostly. What the hell does this guy see in me? I really don’t get it. And it’s not like I don’t think I deserve a great man, or to be spoiled like this. And that’s what this is, plain and simple. It’s spoiling. That’s not it. It’s just… he could have anyone. And I’m such a pain in the ass. And I have so much baggage. And I’m not even nice, actually. I’m sorta mean to him.