She leaned down and grabbed the BlackBerry from her purse, suddenly wondering how much of last night was a dream. She found the last text message and reread the three words to make sure she hadn’t invented them. “It’s a go!!!” the assistant had written. Hannah stared at the screen in awe.

Then her mind drifted again to the backseat.

She smiled to herself as she gave in and tilted the mirror so that she could see him again. He was already looking at her, his hands fingering the book, which was now in his lap. He leaned back and slid his body forward, placing one of his feet on the arm rest between the front seats. The tip of his sneaker touched Hannah’s arm. She leaned into it.

“We’re only five miles from the Bay Bridge,” Vicki announced, reading the green sign on the side of the highway. Hannah and Rob flashed matching grins. Hannah kept her eyes on him as she responded softly, “That means that in two hundred miles we’ll be home.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My love, thanks, and awkward hugs go to Pete Thamel, Tina Valinsky, and Shirley Craig, who were bossy; my graceful agent, Katherine Flynn, who became family; my awe-inspiring editor Denise Roy, who makes everything less scary; Bryan Rafanelli, who gave it a name; Sarah Rodman and Devra First, who read the messiest versions; my friends at the Boston Globe who keep me in the safest of cocoons; Nancy, Tim, Elana, Ariela, and Sarah Knight for a cool basement; Kathy and Scott Levine; Grandpa Marty Goldstein; Hayley Kaufman for necessary distractions; Stephenie Meyer for reading material; the Rooney/Russo kingdom; Paul and all Faircloths; Marisa Katz for Annapolis; Jaime Green Roberts and Rachel Cohen; Tom Perrotta; Tito Bottitta and Upstatement; Nicole Lamy and Scott Heller; Julian Benbow and the city of Richmond; Rachel Zarrell; Lauren Iacono; Adam Ezra; Kara Baskin; Sara Faith Alterman; Mark Shanahan, Michelle McGonagle, and Julia and Beckett Shanahan; Elizabeth McQueen, Desaray Smith, and Laura Heffernan; Danielle Kost, Jenn Abelson, and Jessica Douglas Perez; Paige Mudd, Shawn Badgley, Steve Cohen, Bill Ehninger, and Evan Thies, who left an impression; Ed Ryan, who did/does; my sister, Brette Goldstein, who makes miracles; and my mom, Leslie Goldstein, who taught me that the Singles are often the most extraordinary people in the room.

And to everyone who reads or lurks on “Love Letters,” especially the originals: You are my conscience and the reason I spring out of bed in the morning. I drunkenly kick a shoe—with love—in your general direction.