A dark grey Aston is parked outside, and it appears to be our ride. Malik, dressed up in a vest and shorts, settles behind the wheel, and I buckle my seatbelt right next to him. It only takes a ten-minutes ride to the supermarket across the street.

"Okay, what are we buying exactly?" Malik queries jovially, his grey eyes full of excitement.

I wonder if he's ever done this shopping thing before, because honestly he looks like Alice in a wonderland. I laugh at the way he wanders his gaze around the isles.

"Just push the cart, and I'll do the rest," I tell him while pushing the little carriage toward him.

"Sure, Professor." He grins placidly.

I pick all the important things we need for the bathrooms. Afterwards I add some eggs, vegetables, chicken, bacon and sausages, and other stuff for the kitchen.

For a moment Malik disappears from my sight, and when I find him, he's sucking a popsicle while holding a bucketful of vanilla ice cream and a full package of those popsicles.

"Seriously?" I erupt into laughter.

"What can I do, Professor? I've my priorities straight." Malik beams.

I shake my head amusedly. "You're impossible."

Malik adds a carton of beer, four bottles of wine—two whites and two reds—and I add a gallon of tropical juice and two cartons of drinking water.

"Oh, I totally forgot," he utters, regarding the water.

"I know. Yet you remembered beer and wine. Boys!" I walk past him with a smile.

"Well . . ." Malik chuckles. "I guess that's why people get married."

Our cart is full, and I'm sure we've got all the necessities. I open my wallet to get my card, but Malik stops me by holding my hand.

"Allow me, please," he pleads, and he doesn't even give me a chance to retaliate as he's already smiling at the lady on the cash register.

After the supermarket trip, we pass by a small bakery to buy some fresh bread. We end up buying more than just bread, as expected, Malik is indeed enjoying this new experience.

"Who's going to eat all these pastries, Malik?" I laugh heartily as we head toward the car, each of us carrying the paper bags filled with something.

"Professor, you're living with three healthy men now," he says while pinching his car remote to unlock. "Don't ever underestimate our muscles."

"You know what, I'm done asking questions." I grab the door handle, laughing, and he trunks everything inside. "I'm glad you had fun. Now let's go home." I glance at him, loving the twinkle of joy and youth in his eyes.

From all this, I realize that sometimes these rich folks are missing a lot in life than we imagine they don't. Even if their daily lives are filled with glamour and flash, there are still few simple things in life that have greater meaning than any of that, and we should probably be grateful for those little things we have.

Good memories and happy moments are what count the most.

By the time we get back to the house Sam is sitting by the pool, tapping on her cellphone absentmindedly. The car pulls over and that's when she finally sees us. She gets up as we approach while laughing at one of Malik's jokes.

"Hey, guys, we've been trying to reach you in hours! Where have you been?" She looks agitated as though we were trying to elope.

Malik and I share a glance, for it hasn't been that long since we left; hours is a very huge exaggeration. Well, that's Sam . . . queen of drama.

"Um, as you can see . . ." Malik lifts one of the bags to let her see clearly. "We went to buy some stuff for the house. Professor's orders." He grins at me.

"Oh, great," Sam answers with a tiny smile, stretching her arms with a yawn. She is wearing shorts and a hoodie, her feet adorned with purple bunny slippers. "I don't have a toothbrush so you did great."

"Where is Liam?" Malik asks.

"I think he went to shower or something," Sam replies vaguely, shrugging her slender shoulders. "I'm not so sure, but he's inside."

We all head inside. Malik places some of the things we bought on the kitchen countertop, and I do the rest. Now this feels like home, and it's exactly my scene. The kitchen in its deserving glory? Nothing can go wrong now.

Laughter escapes me at the sight of the bakery we've brought home. I mean, it's probably enough for an entire week, in case I follow that muscled-men speech Malik had given me earlier, let alone if we decide to eat out sometimes.

This is such a waste somehow. But no, I'm going to eat to my heart's content throughout my stay. What's the best part of a vacation? My food goddess seems elated, nodding her big head with clear ascertainment.

"Well, Professor," Malik says, "I did my part of the bargain as agreed. Can I leave now?"

"Yes, Malik, you can leave. I'll take it from here, thank you," I reply.

Before leaving, however, he paces back as though he's forgotten something, and grabs another popsicle. "Sorry, it's just too refreshing," he utters with a wink.

Well, not that I'm being biased, but Malik is truly a breath of fresh air.

I start putting all the stuff we bought into their rightful places. While at it, Sam walks in. She fixes her gaze at me with a big grin on her face. I think I know what to expect.

"Say it." I head toward the refrigerator.

Sam clears her throat. "So how is everything going on between you two?" she asks.

"Everything is going fine," I answer.

"Come on, Kiki." She gives me a playful nudge. "I'm sure something is up, because you look in love, girlfriend. I know you well enough to notice that you're glowing for some reasons."

Really now? Should I say that I'm glowing and flushing crimson every now and then because of the same guy she's supposedly in love with?

I don't realize that I'm zoning out until Sam waves her hand to literally wake me up. I glance at her and smile, wondering how we ended up here.

"Aren't you hungry?" I ask while unwrapping the muffin package.

"What?" Sam scowls.

"Try it. It;s delicious." I hand her the muffin, and walk over the fridge to place the ice cream and Malik's popsicles.

"You won't tell me?" Sam yells.

"There's absolutely nothing going on between us," I tell her casually while stocking the fridge.

"Really?" Her voice is doubtful.

"Seriously, I don't know where you got the idea, but I can swear that it's not what you're thinking." I glance at her over my shoulder.

"Well-maybe-I-misinterpreted-things," she says, mouthful.

"Yeah, we just get along fine. Nothing more," I stipulate seriously. "And please don't insinuate this again, Sam, because it's utterly annoying."

"Sure! If you say so," Sam mutters, and I know she's still unconvinced. "I got a call from the office," she says, and I smell trouble.

"Why? What happened?" I ask warily.

"They were asking if I'm in L.A, that way they can trap me into emergency work." She takes a seat on the barstool, and I place my arms on the countertop.

"They should go to hell."

"I know, right?"

"Yes. They should find that bitchy assistant you hate so much." I laugh, and I'm sure I've landed myself a new topic.

There's one colleague of hers and they're like North and South.

"It's exactly what I told them. To think I got this vacation instead of her, she must be plotting on how to get back at me right now."

We laugh aloud.

"Well, I can always send a medical emergency saying our grand aunt has passed away," I say.

"Oh boy, this time they'll catch on," says Sam. "Maybe we should say grandpa. We found out we have one in the deepest part of rural Montana."

"Jesus! They'll sue us someday."

At last we close the subject and I start making some bacon, scrambled eggs and French toast. Sam prepares some coffee for everyone, and green tea for herself. We set the breakfast right here in the kitchen, and in less than thirty minutes we are done.

"And now we're set," I say, sighing.

"Oh, finally." Sam sighs. "You know, we could've just gone out for breakfast instead of all this work, right?"

"It's just breakfast, Sam, and it's tiring eating out every time."

"Of course not, you simply love playing mommy in the kitchen, which I absolutely love!"

"I bet you do." I giggle.

Sam hugs me tightly from behind, her moos suddenly shifted into something vulnerable.

"I love you a lot, you know? You're like a mother I never had, and the best friend ever! A sister that I trust with my life," she whispers.

"I love you, too." I feel guilty.

And suddenly I remember the things we've been through all these years of being together. I don't think I can bear to lose her friendship. It's been the only relationship I have had since I lost my family and I feel attached to her as if she's my real sister.

Maybe I should just tell her everything about Liam. I suck in a deep breath, pulling myself together, and gather my courage.

"Sam, I have something to say and I hope—"

"Wait! I think I know what to do so that they stop bothering me with their calls," Sam says toutly and pulls back. I breathe out gently. "I get it, Kiki! I'll be back soon. I'll get the boys." She scurries off, her mood back to normal.

That's my friend. A very capricious woman.

A few minutes later we all gather in the kitchen for breakfast. It's now that I get to see Mr. Intense, all clean and refreshed. Reflexively I glance at him, and he does exactly the same. His brown hair is messy yet sexy, and he looks well rested in the eyes.

Could there be another perfect guy in my eyes?

"Good morning, Ms. Jones," he calmly greets me. I can almost feel the mischief behind his gleaming eyes.

Focus Kira! Focus!

"Morning, Mr. Darcy," I answer curtly.

Malik clears his throat. "When will you guys drop this boring formality?" he queries.

"Exactly my thoughts," Sam says, and nearly rolls her eyes. "It's a little disturbing. I mean, do you guys hate each other or something? Then why are you so formal to each other? Sometimes I wonder if you even talk."

"I'm not sure why, but it's comfortable this way," I say in a perfectly normal tone of voice.

"Is it?" Grinning, Malik looks straight at me.

I'll get you for this, Malik!

"I like the sound of her name, that's why I use it," Liam says flatly, staring directly at me. "And I don't hate her, Samantha . . . on the contrary." He now faces my friend whose eyes freeze.

On the contrary? What's wrong with him?

"I'm starving!" Malik snaps. "Let's have the breakfast that I've been looking forward since the moment I heard of it." He grins at me, as he usually does, and it's crystal clear where Sam gets those weird thoughts about me and Malik.

"Yes, let's have breakfast, please." I pour myself a cup of coffee, trying my best to ignore Liam. "I need swimming wear. Are we going shopping?" I stare at Sam, who looks a bit lost in thoughts.

"Okay. Are we going to the beach?" She responds.

"Obviously. At least I have those plans," I say matter-of-factly. 

"Likewise here, Ms. Jones. I truly need to relax today," Malik says, faking some manners that make me stifle a laugh. "I just sounded like Liam, didn't I?" he says proudly and we burst out laughing, and my eyes fail to not find Liam's reaction.

"If you swear that I speak like that, you might as well tell me to never speak again," Liam retorts, and our laughter persists for good while, watching Malik and his grinning face.

God, I love it when they banter.

Around eleven we step out of the house. Sam turns the Navigation on, and she's the one driving the Aston Martin. We stop at Lincoln Avenue, just as Malik suggested, and it's where we do most of our shopping.

The sun is blazing as we wander around. There are plenty of shops and high-end boutiques around the street, and its architect of Spanish colonial style makes it look like something from a postcard, with palm trees dancing the breeze.

It's indeed hot as we finally find our road home, ready for that beach moment. I'm the one driving this time and we no longer need the navigation. Sam is busy taking another look at the stuff we've just bought, and I indulge in my usual thoughts.