Free Winter Storms by Elin Hilderbrand Page A

the bar who looks like Scott.
    Is it Scott? His shoulders are hunched and he appears to be holding his head off the bar with his palm. His eyes are at half-mast. In front of him is a highball glass of brown liquid. Ava blinks; she doesn’t trust her eyes. Could that be Scott, visibly drunk and looking like Eeyore with a whiskey in front of him? She has never known Scott to drink whiskey. He’s a three-beers-and-done man.
    It’s not Scott,
she tells herself. And even if it were Scott, they’ve ended the relationship cold turkey, and so it’s not as though she can go up and say hello. Nope, even that is off-limits. But it can’t be Scott, because what would Scott be doing at the Bar at midnight when Roxanne is at home, pregnant with their child?
    â€œDo you know the guy in the green shirt?” Potter asks. “He’s staring at you.”
    â€œKiss me again,” Ava says.
    Potter doesn’t have to be asked twice.
    Ava breaks away, breathless. “Let’s go dance,” she says.
    Â 
GEORGE
    W hen Mitzi told George that Margaret Quinn’s boss was married to the editor of
Vogue
and that both would be attending the wedding, he knew he had to RSVP yes, despite Mary Rose’s objections.
    â€œI feel funny,” Mary Rose had said when the invitation arrived. “This is the wedding of my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s husband’s ex-wife, who also happens to be Margaret Quinn. Do I belong?”
    George had wondered himself at the source of the invitation. After much pondering, he decided Mitzi had been behind it. The invitation was a peace offering and to turn away an olive branch would mean twenty years of bad luck. They were all adults. George and Mitzi had conducted an affair every Christmas for twelve years, but when they tried to make their relationship work full-time, it had fallen apart. In a way, George’s failings with Mitzi were what had led her back to Kelley. Plus, he could say that he was one of very few non–family members to attend Margaret Quinn’s wedding.
    Yes, they had to go. And George would design Mary Rose the hat of a lifetime.
    They wouldn’t stay at the inn, George decided. That would be too awkward, returning to the lodging and possibly even the room where Mitzi had secretly come to visit him for so many years. Instead, George booked a room at the Castle, down the street. The Castle had a large, brand-new fitness center, which was a bonus, as both George and Mary Rose have been on a health kick since the first of the year. George has lost nearly thirty pounds. By Christmas, he hopes to be a very skinny Santa indeed.
    All of George’s gambles have paid off. The night before the wedding, George and Mary Rose wander the streets of town. It’s the first time Mary Rose has been to the island in the summer. They stroll the docks and ogle the great yachts that are in Nantucket for Race Week. They have a romantic dinner on the beach at the Galley. And then, in the morning, at Mitzi’s invitation, they swing by the inn to enjoy one of Kelley’s famous breakfasts—lobster eggs Benedict, made especially for the wedding guests.
    George had feared the initial interaction with Kelley and Mitzi would be strained—there was nothing like welcoming your wife’s former lover into the fold!—but it was surprisingly joyous. Kelley and Mitzi greeted George and Mary Rose like old friends; a stranger watching might have thought George and Kelley had once been college roommates or that the four of them had forged a lifelong bond on a cruise to Alaska.
    And the hat! Well, the hat makes quite a splash. No sooner has Mary Rose taken her seat at the ceremony than a murmur ripples through the assembled guests. They are talking about the hat—a classic boater made from finely braided leghorn straw with a twelve-inch brim and a lime-green satin band that trails halfway down Mary Rose’s back. At the reception, Mary