By the time I'm driving East on my bike, I'm in a horrible mood. Edward wouldn't take no for an answer. He is convinced that we belong together, that destiny will reunite us. I ended up being harsher than I wanted. I took his beautiful roses, shoved them back into his arms, and pushed him out the door. I literally threw him out. He gave me his love and I tossed him out like trash.

I wish there was traffic, something to distract me during the drive, but the roads are fairly empty. When l I hit the end of the highway and it turns into rural roads, it's barren. There isn't another vehicle in sight.

I follow Cole's directions and stop at a beach-front home that has been converted into his studio. Outside there is the Le Femme sign, but the colors are different - hot pink and black. His New York City studio is pale blue and gray. I wonder why this one is different, but don't pay it much attention. Different locations can have different colors. Besides, what do I know? Le Femme is his business, not mine, and if he thinks it makes sense to rebrand his studio, that has nothing to do with me.

Parking the bike on the side of the house, I get off and stretch. The air is balmy and warm. The sound of the ocean fills my ears. Seeing Cole after this morning's event with Edward is too much. My emotions are in overdrive and I can't contain them. It feels like my eyes will betray me and gush tears at any moment.

No, I can't see Cole. Not yet. So, I set my helmet on the bike and walk toward the water. The sound of the ocean lapping into the shore calms me. Cole is so lucky to have this place. I'd live here year-round if I had a place like this. It is isolated, but part of a smaller town outside of the Hamptons hamlet, or whatever you call them. Townships? Anyway, it is perfect. The town itself feels like a piece of Americana New England. It is picturesque. Add in the house and it's a dream. I sit down on the sand, and watch the waves crash into the shore. The wind whips my hair, separating tiny strands that float on their own. My mind clears after a few moments and I feel a little better.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" his voice flows over my shoulder, sending a chill down my spine. I turn, sucking in a deep breath. Cole's staring at the surf like there might be mermaids in there.

"Sublimely so," I answer softly. I wonder how Cole can act like nothing happened last night, but he does. It makes me wonder if I misread him, if he was really just offering me a guest room.

"Ah, and that's the most bewitching kind of beauty. Isn't it?" Cole is standing barefoot a few paces from me.

He offers his hand, but I don't take it. "Come on, Lamore. Let me show you around." He puts his hands back in his pockets and gazes at the ocean once more before turning back toward the house. He walks away from me before I can get up. I jump up and follow him inside.

The exterior of the studio looks like a little a Cape Cod style house complete with gray shingles and white trim. It's perfect. We pass through glass sliding doors that lead to the beach.

Cole says, "The studio has several rooms. There is a guest section with full bedding. Each room has a private bath." And it does. As we peek in the empty rooms, Cole shows me the upscale finishes with marble tiles and white fixtures. It's so soft and feminine. I wish I had a bathroom like this. It's completely perfect. Cole forgot nothing.

He looks down at me and says, "The staff gets these two rooms, and the others are for clients who need to stay overnight. Some will want to fly in or need the session in the evening. The assistant will oversee all this, so you don't have to worry about it." Before I can ask anything, he's walking again. I stop gazing at the room and follow him.

Cole leads me into a room that still smells of paint, "This is the shooting room. The electricians fell behind, so it isn't ready yet. That slows things down a little bit. The lights will be there and there. Additional units can be placed at these intervals." He shows me the room, and is talking layout, but I don't understand what he's shooting.

The set-up is similar to his city studio, but it's different - smaller and more posh. The sets have more details, more color. One set is solid pink like strawberry soda. It has a lightness, and feels girlie and seductive at the same time.

I walk through it, and touch the velvet blankets, and then the flocked paper on the walls. It makes my jaw drop. I notice things as we walk around. After seeing the shooting room, Cole shows me the office where I'll be working and which computer is mine. Everything is pink and black. The decor doesn't match his other studio. His branding is glaringly different, like he's trying to do something different out here, but for the life of me, I can't tell what.

Finally, I ask, "So what is this place, Stevens? It has your studio's name, but none of your branding. What gives?"

He leans on the reception desk and folds his arms across his chest, "It's a new division of Le Femme, a division that I'm putting you in charge of." He watches me from under dark lashes, waiting for my reaction.

"What?" I breathe, turning to him. Is he serious? He can't be. I'm an intern, which makes his suggestion insane.

"I'm trying something new. This was the reason I wanted you to take the internship with me and not Sottero. I've been keeping track of you for a while, watching you turn into the perfect artist to work here."

My eyebrow creeps up my face as he speaks. I don't ignore the fact that he's been watching me, but I can't get over the obvious. "But, I'm an intern," I sputter.

He looks at me like I'm insane. "So?" he shrugs. "And that's bad because - ?"

"Because I'm too young to be entrusted with something like this."

A dark brow lifts. He shakes his head, "Says who? You? You're telling me that you wouldn't want this? That you couldn't do it?"

My eyes narrow. I wonder what game he's playing, if this has something to do with last night or if he just wants to make me cry. I feel too emotional today. I can't handle his teasing, not after everything that's happened. "Don't jerk me around just because you can. We weren't all born with a silver spoon in our mouths. A job like this would matter to me--"

He cuts me off, "You don't even know what the job is." He's smug, "So don't go pulling the silver spoon crap. And for your information, this studio came from my own blood, sweat, and tears and no one else's. Both studios did."

I laugh. My arms fold over my chest defensively. "Yeah, right. The trust fund baby must have had a hard time getting everything set up." There's a bite to my voice when I speak again. It says don't screw with me and I know Cole senses it. "Every single thing you have was handed to you because of your name or your fortune. Don't tell me about blood, sweat, and tears. Those are things that you don't understand. The rich are cold conniving snakes, playing games for eternity, trying to outwit everyone around them, but in the end they lose - they always lose - because they find out they never had anyone who didn't love them for their money." By the time I'm done, my body is close to shaking. For some reason this feels incredibly personal. Steadying myself, I realize that it's because of my Grandmother and the effect she's had on my family.

Cole's brow inches higher and higher as I speak. "So, you think you have me all figured out?"

"I didn't say that." I want to tell him that I have him figured out, that he's just like the rest of them, but I know it's not true. There's a piece that doesn't fit. Trying to figure out Cole is like having a puzzle with several pieces missing. I have an idea of what's there, but without those pieces, I'll never see the whole picture.

He's silent, watching me fume. Finally, he says, "What do you want, Anna?"

I want you to want me. I want your arms around my waist, your hand on my cheek. I want to feel you against me. I want you... I don't say any of it.

I breathe hard, and look away. "Just tell me what you want from me. I've been jerked around enough for one lifetime."

He watches me like he's assessing something. His expression is unreadable. He glances down and says, "Fair enough." Our gazes meet when he looks up. "I want you to run this studio. My intention is to spend the summer with you, teaching you how. In the fall, I'll return to the city and we'll catch up a few times a year when we go over fiscal information. Like I said, I've been keeping tabs on you for a while. You have the skills needed to do this."

I eye him. He keeps skipping something, a pertinent detail. I still don't know what he's shooting out here, so I ask, "What type of studio is this?"

"Boudoir."

"Cole!" I'm yelling and I don't know why. It's my dream job, but instead of shooting brides, I'll be shooting naked women. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I turn toward him and he slides off the desk. I slam my hands into his chest. "How could you do this to me? You offered everything I want and everything I said I'd never do!" It isn't something that should leave me in tears, but I am balling. Tears race down my cheeks and I can't stop them.

Cole's fingers wrap around my hands, keeping my palms from shoving him again, "Why are you crying? I thought you'd be happy. You like it out here. Your family is nearby. You won't be alone. And the studio..."

I try to yank my hands away, but he doesn't let me. I feel the rhythm of his heart beating in his chest. I look up at him, "The studio is perfect. It's beautiful, but I want to shoot brides, not boobs. I can't do this! I can't!"

I threw everything away. Ditching Sottero screwed me. I can see the beginning and end of my career in this building. Although I don't mind shooting models, I don't want to do this forever. Le Femme is supposed to be a stepping stone. Cole is supposed to teach me. I know he has skills that Sottero doesn't.

"Listen," he snaps at me, tightening his grip on my hands. It makes my panic throttle down. "I don't think I was wrong. You can do this. You have the skills. You just have your head stuck in this fantasy of being a wedding photographer. Why? Why does it matter so much that you shoot brides?"

"Because it's the most romantic moment of their lives. It's the most important."

"And this isn't?"

"No! It's not! These are please fuck me pictures. These aren't even art. Cole, the fact that you - "

He drops my hands like I've burnt him and shakes his head. He turns away from me and runs his hands through his hair. "Anna!" His voice booms. When he turns back his blue eyes are livid. I've insulted him. His jaw twitches like he wants to say things that he bites back. Finally he says, "If you can see this is art - if you see that this is romantic and important - will you do it? Will you try?"

"There is no way that I'll ever say that."

He laughs and shakes his head, "You are such a pain in the ass. Just say yes or no. If you can see that it's art will you do it?"

His laughter disarms me a little bit. I nod and fold my arms over my chest. "Yes. Now please prove to me that you haven't fucked up my life beyond repair. Show me the artistic boobies so I can go beg Sottero for a second chance next year."

Cole growls, leaning close to my face, "The only person you'll ever beg for anything will be me."

My heart is pounding. I can't breathe. I want to punch him. I want to kiss him. This arrogant bastard thinks that I'll believe anything he says, and he says he made this place for me. I can't let him get under my skin like this, but he's already there.

I lean closer to him and breathe, "I'll never beg you for a single thing."