“Hell yeah, you can. I’ll be the best Polly Pocket in the world, especially if you pack me with booze.”

I laughed.

“Everybody knows I give my best advice when I’m drunk. And anyway, you already do carry me around in your pocket. You can always call me, whenever you need.”

“You should have been my maid of honor, you know.”

“Uh, obviously. I’ve been telling you that ever since always. I will forever stand by the notion that a pact you made with Courtney when you were nine doesn’t count.”

“I mean, to be fair, she was basically the worst maid of honor to ever walk the Earth, so the bar was pretty low.”

“Also true. But I still would have crushed it.” She took a bite of ice cream, and I just watched her, my heart full of gratitude.

“I love you, Brookie. Thank you. For everything.”

She reached for my hand, smiling. “You’re welcome, Mags. Now deep throat that Billionaire before I do.”

Cooper

“I don’t know what else to do but wait, Astrid.”

She nodded and picked up her wine. We hadn’t been on one of our regular dates in a week — I’d barely spoken to her or anyone else, for that matter.

It felt good to tell her everything, like a confession. The relief that comes with sharing your burden with someone else, someone who cares.

“You haven’t talked to her at all?”

“Not since I called her last week. I have to believe that she’ll come back to me. She needs to work herself out, if she can. So I told her I’d wait.”

“You’re not going to get in touch with her at all? Just sit here on your hands? That doesn’t sound like you.”

I smirked. “I have a plan. There are things I need her to know, so I overnighted her something this morning. If I don’t hear from her, I have a Plan B, C, D. I’ll give her time, but I won’t let her go.”

“This is crazy, Coop. You really love her. When did this really happen?” She picked up her fork and fished around on her plate.

“I think it’s been coming for weeks. But when we left everything in the city behind us, I saw the possibility. I saw what we could be, and I realized I want that. I want her, all of her — even the broken parts. Because I can put her back together.”

Astrid’s fork was still, her eyes wide. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of scotch. “There’s more.”

“More than your undying love?”

“I went to my dad’s office today and asked him for a job.”

She dropped her fork, and the people sitting next to us glanced over. Her mouth was hanging open.

“Oh, come on. That can’t be that big of a surprise.”

“Cooper Moore, model, playboy, one of New York’s most eligible bachelors—”

“That’s a national nomination, just so you know.”

She shook her head, gaping at me. “A job? At your father’s company? I mean … are you sick? Had a fever lately? Travel to any third world countries or low-end whorehouses or anything?”

“Hilarious.”

“I just … I mean … I’m speechless. Really. I have literally nothing to say except that I have nothing to say.”

“I can’t explain it. I just want to be better. More. I’ve got a legacy, an opportunity. I’m over The Life. I’ve been watching everyone else grow up, West and Lily especially, and that’s what I want. I can give back to my father for everything he’s given to me. I can prove to myself and Maggie that I’m serious. My dad said it was about finding purpose, and I did. It’s her.”

She watched me for a moment. “All right. Then that’s that. I’ll talk to Sam. You’ll start your job on Wall Street. And we’ll wait and see what happens with Maggie.” She took a breath. “I hope you hear from her soon.”

“Me too.” The familiar ache twisted in my chest, but I smiled because I had something stronger than the hurt.

I had hope.

MEASURES

Maggie

“MAGS?” MY MOM CALLED UP the stairs, and I laid my book in my lap.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“There’s a package here for you.” I heard her climbing the stairs, and I got up just as she stepped into the doorway with curious eyes.

My brow quirked as I stood and made my way over to her and took the large envelope. The return address was from a PO Box in New York, the label printed rather than hand written.

I ripped it open curiously.

Inside was a proof copy of W Magazine in a plastic wrapper, but I couldn’t see the cover for Cooper’s letter. My heart beat so hard, I could barely hear as I took a seat on my bed and read his long, strong words that stretched across the page.

Maggie —

You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Come back to me. 

I looked down at the magazine cover and could barely breathe.

Cooper hung off his sailboat with Manhattan behind him in the distance, looking right at the camera like he could see through it, into me. His smile was so bright, so lovely, the line of his arms, his hand wrapped around the rope. He was carefree and alive, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

A Post-It stuck out of the top, and I slipped my finger in to open the magazine to the page he had marked.

It was a full spread with an interview and several photos, one entire page filled with a shot of him looking off to the side, shirtless, hanging in the ropes of the bow, rubbing the back of his neck with that crooked smile on his lips.

In the bottom corner was a quote from the interview.

Q: So what would you say to your dream girl, if you had the chance?

A: I’ve been around the world, and I thought I’d seen everything it had to offer until that night, until I saw you. In all my life, I’d never seen anything so beautiful, not standing in the Blue Mosque or the Taj Mahal. Not in the streets of Rome or canals of Venice. Making you smile gives me life. Making you laugh gives me hope. Making you happy is all I want, other than to keep you.

A tear slipped down my cheek. His words were about me, I knew, words he’d spoken before the Hamptons, before I knew how he felt. He’d realized it long before then. Pieces flew together as I went back, back, all the way to the first night.

As scared as I’d been, even though I’d resisted him, I knew even then. I knew it from the first time he touched me. I wanted him. I needed him. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt something even more.

I loved him.

I touched my lips as my tears fell freely. He’d been waiting for me since that first night, waiting for me to realize it. Waiting until I saw that he was telling the truth, that I could trust him, believe him. Waiting for me to say goodbye to my past instead of running from it, instead of letting it hurt me.

I looked up at my mom, unable to speak. I handed the magazine to her, and she read it over.

“What does this mean?”

“It’s a declaration.”

“And how do you feel about him?”

I took a deep breath. “The same,” I answered quietly.

She smiled, her cheeks pink and eyes shining. “I figured. What are you gonna do about it?”

A smile stretched across my face as I wiped my tears. “Oh, I think I may have an idea.”