In the back corner there was a trapdoor in the ceiling with a rope handle dangling down. He pulled it, and a narrow, steep staircase fell, startling Dani. He gestured for her to go ahead of him, and she climbed the rickety staircase, which was really more like a ladder.

And emerged into the garret of her dreams.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I am not. Remember that first night in New York? I asked you what you would do if you could do anything, and you said hole up in in a garret and write. You won’t tell me about the mystery project, but I assume it’s something that needs to be written.”

Oh, Max. Max who listened and remembered. Max who coaxed her to make snow angels and do Dirty Dancing lifts. Max who conjured ballet tickets and garrets.

“Perhaps you don’t remember.” He grinned. “That was two negronis in.”

“I remember,” she said, her voice a little squeaky as she took it all in. The open space spanned the top of the cottage and featured slanting walls that created cozy nooks. The ceiling was crisscrossed by wooden support beams, the unfinished nature of which contributed to the same worn-luxury look of the rooms downstairs. There were more timeworn Persian rugs on top of rustic, sightly uneven whitewashed wooden floors. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the space piled high with white bedding of the sort you saw in rich-people advertisements, expensive but wrinkly because it was one-million-thread-count linen. On one side of the bed was an armoire and a full-length mirror on a stand. On the other, nestled against a large stone chimney, was a little sitting area with a love seat and coffee table.

And of course on the far end of the space was a desk perfectly sized to nestle in a dormer with a window that overlooked the mountain.

“There are a few drawbacks,” Max said, “namely no bathroom. You’ll have to come downstairs and share with me.” He crossed to the desk and picked up the end of an extension cord draped over it. Dani followed it with her gaze to see that it lined the edge of the floor until it disappeared under the bed. “The only outlet is on the other side of the bed,” he said. “And it’s going to be dark in here at night. And cold. It’s suboptimal, but—”

“Max.” She hated to interrupt him, but honestly. “This is amazing.” She spun in a slow circle to take it all in once more. “Amazing.” And she wasn’t just talking about the room.