“Hallie!” Jules exclaims the second I walk in the door. I stop in my tracks. She’s not usually quite that enthusiastic to see me. You’d think I’d been missing for weeks. All I did was wander around Manhattan for a while, walking off some of my heartache, before I headed home.

“Jules,” I reply slowly, looking her over for any signs that an alien being has taken over my roommate. No, she looks like her usual professional, collected self. Other than the slightly crazed gleam in her eyes.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she says.

“Um, no.”

“Perfect. We have to go grab some dinner.” She grasps me by the elbow and hauls me right back out the door.

“Okay,” I say, still bewildered. “Dinner sounds good, but what’s the occasion? Did you win some major case or something?”

“No, no. I just thought— Your new job! We should celebrate your new job.”

That would sound reasonable if I hadn’t started that new job three days ago. And if we hadn’t already gone for drinks. I eye her suspiciously as she ushers me down the hall. “Jules, are you feeling OK?”

“Sure. Just hungry!”

“I guess I could eat. I didn’t get near craft service,” I add. “And then . . .” Well, I’m not ready to talk about the whole Max part of my day.

Luckily, Jules seems distracted. She checks her phone as we head downstairs, then grabs my arm when I try to hail a cab. “We can walk!”

“In those heels?” I look down at her don’t-fuck-with-me stilettos.

“They’re comfortable. Really.”

“Uh huh.” I follow, suspicious, as she charges down the street. “Where do you want to eat?”

“This new place opened, right around the corner.”

“Oh, great. What kind of food?”

“Mexican, or Greek, or something. How was your day?”

“Good. Melissa is letting me get more and more involved in the shoots.” I pause, thinking about what happened after work. My heart squeezes. I don’t think I want to bring that up right now. Jules has listened to me mope about Max for weeks. Whatever she’s excited about, I don’t want to ruin it by being a downer. “Anyway, all good there.”

“That’s awesome. I knew they were crazy not to take you on that first time around. Watch out, world! Hallie Gage, star photographer, has arrived.”

I laugh. “I’m not quite there yet. But it does feel like I’m finally on my way.”

Jules stops dead outside a nondescript building. “This is it.”

I look up suspiciously. “Are you sure? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“That’s the gimmick,” she says. “Like a pop-up, or secret, or whatever.” She hits the buzzer, and then leads me inside a plain hallway.

“Real secret.” I look around again. “Are you sure, because—”

Jules flings open a door at the end of the hallway, and I stop on the threshold,

“Jules?” I ask, slowly. “This isn’t dinner.”

It’s a photography studio. The most stunning studio space I’ve ever seen. The windows are huge, with a whole wall of drop-cloth. There’s a workbench already set with a dizzying array of cameras and equipment, at the far end lies a sleek black desk with a computer set up for editing, and there’s even a space just off the main room, already set up as a dark room.

I look around in amazement. There isn’t just a ton of equipment—it’s top of the line. The lamps, the tripods . . . and the cameras . . . Fuck, there’s that baby I’ve spent the last six months drooling over at the shop. Whoever runs this studio, they’ve got amazing taste.

Which begs the question . . . “Who owns this place?” I ask, turning to Jules. “What are we even doing here?”

Jules grins. “You do. It’s yours.”

“What?”

She hands me a note, smiling even wider.

---

Hallie,

You know writing is my thing, not taking pictures, or I’d have been able to get this together a lot faster. But they tell me every piece of equipment in this place is the best you could possibly get. And you deserve the best. You wouldn’t accept the money you earned, but I hope you’ll accept this gift from me.

I’m also better at writing than talking, especially when something—or someone—matters to me this much. So in case I didn’t make it clear before, doubting you is the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life. And believe me, I’ve made a lot of harebrained schemes in my time. You didn’t just make me laugh and stand by me and turn me on more than any woman ever has. You’ve made me a better man. Being with you showed me how I want to be.

There’s no way to put a price on that gift. This studio only scratches the surface of repaying you, but it’s the best I could think of. So take it. Follow your dreams. There’s nothing that would make me happier than knowing I helped you reach them like you’ve helped me.

Everything’s in your name. No strings attached. But if you’re willing to take another chance on me, it’d make me even happier to be there with you. We only spent a week together, and already it’s hard for me to imagine my life without you. I love you, Hallie. I’d do anything for the chance to show you how much, over and over, until you know you never have to doubt me again.

---

Max

---

The letter wavers in my hand. I read it again, blinking hard.

Oh my God.

“Hallie?” Jules asks from the doorway.

I stuff the letter into my purse and spin around. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He dropped off the note this morning with instructions,” she tells me.

Which means he’d planned this, all along. Even before he won the company back.

“I have to go!” I hug her quickly. “I might still be able to catch him.”

I dash outside and flag a cab down. “The Carlisle Publishing building,” I tell the driver. “Fast, please?”

“I can do fast.” He hits the gas, and we race away.

It takes way too long to get over the bridge. I’m ready to jump out and go on foot by the time we make it. I shove the driver a handful of bills run for the doors.

My pulse thumps all the way up to the top floor. I’m practically hyperventilating when the elevator door slides open and—

My heart sinks. The lights in the boardroom are out. A man in a janitor’s outfit is clearing away the empty coffee cups.

I pull out my cellphone and dial. Pick up, pick up, pick up . . .

“Hallie?” Max’s voice says in my ear.

My heart leaps. “Max!”

He says something, but there’s so much background noise, I can’t hear him.

“Max? I can’t hear you. Where are you?”

“Wait . . . I’ll go . . . anyway.”

I want to shout in frustration. I listen closer, trying to pick up his words, but there’s just a loud hum of conversation. Then someone yells, “A dozen glazed, three crullers!” and I know exactly where he is.

“Stay right there,” I tell him. “I’m coming to you.”

I burst from the Carlisle building doors and sprint across the street to the donut shop where Olivia and I had our first conversation. Where I got sucked into this whole crazy situation. I probably look like a mad person when I fling open the door. But the only person whose opinion I care about is the guy just getting up from his table.

Max steps forward to meet me. His smile is still a little hesitant, as if he’s not sure what I’m here for. Well, I can clear that up real quick.

I grab him by his shirt pull him into a kiss.

A hot, deep, “take me now, I’m yours forever” kind of kiss.

Max’s arms come around me, drawing me even closer. The press of his lips is so sure and perfect it sends shivers racing through me. God, how did I go three weeks without kissing this man? The idea of giving it up seems impossible.

Finally, we come up for air. “I’m really hoping that wasn’t just a ‘Congratulations on becoming CEO’ kiss,” he says.

I laugh. “No. I guess you could say it was a ‘Here’s your second chance and you’d better not blow it’ kiss.” I take a breath. “And also, I love you too.”

Max’s expression changes, and he kisses me again, with a new possession in his touch.

“So you liked the studio?” he says when he releases me.

“Like it?” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with it, too. You’re going to have some tough competition for my attention.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Competition seems to bring out the best in us, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, most of the time.”

His gaze lowers for a second. “Your roommate chewed me out twice as good as I’ve already done to myself. But if you need some more apologizing . . .”

“No,” I stop him. “That’s okay.” I touch his cheek. “I’m convinced. The studio is amazing. That goes without saying. But really it was the letter that sold me.”

Max bends his head close to mine. “I have been told I have a way with words. There are plenty more where those came from.”

I laugh, a little breathless. “Do go on. I’m looking forward to hearing all of them. On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“That we’re naked in bed,” I grin. “With a box of those glazed donuts, to go.”