6. We will renegotiate this agreement once a year every year in August, because I recognize that feelings and needs can change.
Some of my needs may change, but my feelings for you will not.
7. I will love you for the rest of my life.
“I mean every single word. I swear,” he said. “And if there’s anything else you need, or want to add, please, please just tell me.”
She looked down at the contract, then up at him. A smile spread across her face, and her eyes swam with tears.
“My feelings for you won’t change, either, Max. I’ve missed you so much.”
He practically jumped over his far-too-large desk and pulled her into his arms.
“I kept trying to think of living days and weeks and months without you, and it all seemed so empty and meaningless. I love you so much.”
She looked up at him with so much joy and laughter and love in her face that he almost couldn’t believe it.
“I love you so much, too.”
He kissed her like he’d never kissed her before, like he would be able to kiss her every day for the rest of his life.
Finally, he led her over to the couch, and they sat there, her head against his chest.
“I tried to get over you, but it was so hard.” She let out a half sob, half laugh. “So much of this was my fault, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how hard all of that was for me so we could come up with a solution earlier.”
He stroked her hair and kissed her again.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what to say. It took me two weeks and four conversations with Wes before I realized what I wanted to tell you, and then four days to write barely a hundred words that I hoped expressed some of what I thought and felt and wanted.”
She lifted her head.
“I saw you on Maddow that night. When that guy tried to trap you into becoming vegan. I was sure you were going to do it, too.”
He laughed. He couldn’t believe she’d been watching that night.
“I was so mad, and I was so ready to take that asshole up on his dare, and then what you said about taking other people and their autonomy into account flashed into my mind, and I stopped myself.” He grinned at her. “And the wild thing was, it made for a much better answer, and he had no idea how to respond to me. Thanks for that.”
She gripped his fingers.
“I almost didn’t even read what you wrote—I was so scared to hope that I wouldn’t let myself read the attachment at first. When I finally did read it, I sat up all night thinking about it. I was going to email you back, but I wanted to see you, to really talk to you, first. I was going to wait until this weekend, but I texted Kara, to see what your schedule was like, and she said you were here all weekend. So I got on a red-eye last night and made it to DC first thing this morning.”
Speaking of Kara . . .
Max jumped up off the couch and looked at his calendar. It was somehow, magically, empty.
“Kara cleared my schedule for the rest of the day.” He pulled Olivia off the couch and handed her briefcase to her.
“Let’s get out of here. We need to celebrate, and I know just the place.”
Olivia held up her finger.
“Before we celebrate, I think we’re forgetting something.”
He laughed out loud and tossed her a pen.
“You’re right, we are. Would you like to sign first?”
She grinned at him and bent over their agreement, and signed her name with a flourish at the bottom. He pulled out his favorite pen and signed right next to hers. They both looked at their names, side by side, and smiled at each other.
“There, signed and dated.” He handed her their agreement, and she slid it into her briefcase. “Now, how would you feel about a slice of rich, decadent, luscious chocolate cake to celebrate?”
“How many layers?” she asked.
“Three,” he said.
She grinned.
“Perfect.”
Epilogue
They went back to Hawaii the next August during Max’s recess. The year had been both hard as hell and better than Olivia could have ever imagined. They’d each had to push themselves—and sometimes each other—to follow their contract, but it got easier and easier each time. His job and hers had both had big ups and big downs, and then big ups again; they’d both traveled far too much; they’d seen each other not at all enough. But almost without fail, they saw each other at least once a week, unless there was some sort of emergency that got in their way—which had happened only three times, twice on Max’s end and once on hers. One time she’d even surprised him and flown into DC for a night just to see him. She’d been to fundraisers and parties and town halls and concerts with him, and had actually found a number of them interesting, even fun—especially that time she’d managed to wangle an invitation for her sister and her husband, too. And she’d never, not for one second, doubted Max’s love for her.
They went to the same hotel as the first time—Olivia was less skittish about the press these days, but she drew the line at potential paparazzi shots on vacation—and ran down to the beach like fools again when they arrived. They spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in a cabana, with pineapple drinks, and without their phones.
Midway through the afternoon, Max looked up from The Economist.
“What do you think about having dinner on the balcony of our room tonight, instead of down in the restaurant? I’m feeling lazy.”
She looked up from her novel.
“That’s an excellent idea. Plus, if we go down to dinner, someone might recognize you, and I want you all to myself.”
Max picked up her hand and pressed a kiss on her palm.
“I want you all to myself, too.”
Before dinner, Olivia showered and changed out of her swimsuit and cover-up, and into her favorite caftan. Aaah, this is why she loved Hawaii.
When she came out of the bathroom, the food was all set up on their oceanfront balcony.
“There you are,” Max said as she walked out to join him. “Oh, by the way, since it’s August, I thought we should take the opportunity to revisit this.” He opened the folder sitting on the table, and there was their contract. They each had a copy, but this was the original.
“Oh.” She supposed she couldn’t argue with that; after all, the whole “we’ll revisit every August” part had been on her list. “Yeah, that makes sense. I hadn’t realized you brought this with you.”
She was glad Max had thought about this. Though maybe it didn’t have to be their first night in Hawaii?
“It felt wrong to do it with a copy,” he said. “Let’s get to it: is there anything you want to alter, or edit?”
She bit her lip and thought about it. She couldn’t think of anything right now, but . . .
“Don’t I get some time to consider that?”
Max laughed out loud.
“I should have expected that, shouldn’t I?” He leaned over and kissed her. “Yes, of course you do. We’ll be here all week, so you have plenty of time. It won’t surprise you that I already know what my edits are.”
She actually was kind of surprised by that. Did it mean something had been bothering Max for months and he hadn’t wanted to bring it up until August? She hadn’t intended to be quite so dogmatic about that. Maybe that’s what her edit would be, that they’d discuss it every August, or at any other time if either party desired a reconsideration.
“Okay,” she said. “What are your edits?”
Max took her hand.
“I want my last line to say, ‘I will love you, and honor you, and cherish you, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live.’ Olivia. Will you marry me?”
So many tears streamed from her eyes she could barely see him.
He kissed her hand.
“And obviously, you get as much time as you need to give me an answer.”
She swatted his hand away, and immediately grabbed it again.
&nbs
p; “No!” She shook her head. “That’s not—I mean, no, I don’t need time, yes, yes, I’ll marry you!”
He grabbed her and kissed her so hard she could barely breathe, but she didn’t mind. They smiled at each other as they sat there together on a lounge chair. Olivia was so happy it hurt.
“I can’t believe you and the fake-out with the contract! I thought you, I don’t know, wanted flannel sheets in the winter or for me to stop waking you up late at night when I stay up too late or wanted me to move to DC or something.”
Max laughed, and then reached into his pocket.
“None of those things, but speaking of sleep—thank goodness you’re so hard to wake up in the morning; that way I got to measure your ring finger.”
He snapped open the box and slid the ring on her finger.
“Oh thank God, it actually fits,” he said.
He kissed her again, then disappeared back into their room.
“Hold on a second.”
He came back out carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and a cake box in the other.
“I was very nervous about getting the ring through security and to Hawaii without you seeing it, but I was almost as nervous about this.”
Olivia saw the logo on the side of the cake box and smiled.
“You brought a cake all the way here?”
He carefully cut the tape on the box and nodded.
“Yes, which meant I had to pick it up yesterday, and keep it hidden from you the whole time I was packing, and remember to pack it, and . . . well, ‘I’ll bring a cake to Hawaii!’ wasn’t my best decision, I realize that now, but look!”
He flipped open the cake box to reveal . . . a chocolate cake, with blue smudges on top.
Max looked crestfallen.
“It was supposed to say ‘Congratulations, Olivia and Max!’ I guess it melted.”
Olivia leaned over and kissed him.
“That’s okay, it’ll still be delicious. And even if it isn’t, I love you even more than I love cake.”
Max lifted the bottle of champagne in the air.
“I changed my mind: that whole ordeal with the cake was worth it, just to hear you say that.”
They smiled at each other, and popped the champagne cork together.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I somehow thought that writing and publishing would get easier after the first book. I was very wrong about that, but the incredible part is even though it gets harder and harder, it also becomes even more joyful and fulfilling. I’m so grateful for everyone who has helped me along this journey.
Holly Root, sometimes I imagine what it would be like to do this job without you as my agent, and shudder in horror. Thank you for everything you do, from the bottom of my heart. Cindy Hwang, I adore working with you; thank you for believing in me and guiding me. Team Berkley and Penguin Random House, I feel outrageously fortunate every day to have all of you in my corner. Thank you to Jessica Brock, Fareeda Bullert, Angela Kim, Craig Burke, Erin Galloway, Jin Yu, Megha Jain, Angelina Krahn, Vikki Chu, Jaci Updike, and Lauren Monaco for all of your hard work on behalf of me and my books.
I am full of gratitude toward other writers for their advice and counsel, and their friendship and companionship. Amy Spalding and Akilah Brown, thank you for your encouragement, edits, and enthusiasm. Ruby Lang, thank you for your constant wisdom. Kayla Cagan, thank you for coming up with this title. And eternal thanks to Jami Attenberg, Melissa Baumgart, Robin Benway, Heather Cocks, Alexis Coe, Nicole Chung, Roxane Gay, Tayari Jones, Lyz Lenz, Caille Millner, Jessica Morgan, Sarah Weinman, and Sara Zarr.
So many people took time out of their busy lives to talk to me as I researched this book; I appreciate that more than I can say. Thank you to Jane Friedman, Erin Clary Giglia, Betty Huang, Joyce Tong Oelrich, Jessica Palumbo, and Tere Ramos-Dunne for talking to me about starting your own businesses. Thanks to Julia Turshen, who told me so much about her experiences working with Angel Food East, which inspired the meal service work in this book. And many thanks to Sybil Grant for sharing so much of her research about criminal justice reform.
My friends have been there for me through everything, and I can’t thank all of you enough. Jill Vizas, Janet Goode, Lisa McIntire, Joy Alferness and the whole Alferness family, Jessica Simmons, Julian Davis Mortenson, Nanita Cranford, Jina Kim, Melissa Sladden, Alicia Harris, Dana White, Samantha Powell, Nicole Cliffe, Kate Leos, Sarah Mackey, Maggie Levine, Sara Kate Wilkinson, Margaret H. Willison, Rachel Fershleiser, Maret Orliss, Daniel Lavery, Toby Rugger, Kyle Wong, Lyette Mercier, Ryan Gallagher, Sarah Tiedeman, Sara Simon, Simi Patnaik, and Nicole Clouse. I’m so happy I have you all. Thank you especially to everyone who sent me cute pictures and videos of their children and dogs when I especially needed it.
Thank you so much to my big, sprawling, loud, joyful, argumentative family. I love you, Mom, Dad, and Sasha; all of my aunts and uncles, and all of my many wonderful cousins. I miss you, Granny and Papa, Grandma, Grandpa, and Stan. Thank you for everything.
Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who have read my books. Thank you for coming to my events and checking books out of the library and telling your friends and family about my books and sending me messages and telling me what my books have meant to you—I treasure all of this so much.
And finally, a special, heartfelt thank-you to all booksellers and librarians. Thank you for all of your hard work on behalf of books and literacy, and thank you for embracing me from the beginning. I’ve loved bookstores and libraries for my entire life, and didn’t think there was any way I could love them more, but these past few years have accomplished that. You’re all superstars—now more than ever.
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Party of Two: The brilliant opposites-attract rom-com from the author of The Proposal! Page 29
