Sou AROUND ONE IN THE morning, after Harry had already gone back to the hotel to check on Connor, Max and I were outside in the courtyard of a mansion owned by the head of Paramount. There was a circular fountain, spraying water into the night sky. Max and I sat, marveling at what we had accomplished together. His limo pulled up. “Can I give you a ride back to your hotel?” he asked. “Where’s your date?” Max shrugged. “I fear she was only interested in the ticket to the show.” I laughed. “Poor Max.” “Not poor Max,” he said, shaking his head. “I spent my evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.” I shook my head. “You are too much.” “You look hungry. Come get in the car. We will get hamburgers.” “Hamburgers?” “I’m sure even Evelyn Hugo eats a hamburger from time to time.” Max opened the limo door and waited for me to get in. “Your chariot,” he said. I wanted to go home and see Connor. I wanted to watch the way her mouth hung open as she slept. But the idea of getting a hamburger with Max Girard actually didn’t sound so bad. Minutes later, the limo driver was trying to navigate the drive-through of a Jack in the Box, and Max and I decided it was easier to get out of the car and go in. The two of us stood in line, me in my navy-blue silk gown, him in his tux, behind two teenage boys ordering french fries. And then, when we got to the front of the line, the cashier screamed as if she’d seen a mouse. “Oh, my God!” she said. “You’re Evelyn Hugo.” I laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. After twenty-five years, that line still worked every time. “You're her. Evelyn Hugo.”