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The Hotel Nantucket(118)

Author:Elin Hilderbrand

“I didn’t get in any trouble,” Chad says. “My parents were angry, of course, and they were disappointed. But mostly, they were worried about how the incident would reflect on them. They thought everyone would say they were bad parents, and so they did what they could to sweep it under the rug. They bought me a brand-new Range Rover as a graduation present and it was delivered to my house the day after Paddy went home, so it felt like I had done all these heinous things and was rewarded.” Chad shakes his head and his eyes flood with hot tears as he thinks, What the actual f—

Ms. English lays a cool hand on his arm. “But you corrected course on your own,” she says. “You came to me and I put you to work in a place where we don’t sweep anything under the rug.”

Chad wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “You told me that you believed even the biggest messes could be cleaned up.”

“And that’s what you did,” she says. “I’m sure your parents are very proud of you.”

“They’re not, though,” Chad says. “Neither one of them has praised me for getting this job. My father told me to quit!”

“But you didn’t quit,” Ms. English says. “Because you do have character, Long Shot.”

“I don’t want to work at my father’s company,” Chad says. “I want to stay at the hotel until it closes for the season.”

Ms. English tsks. “You have to get on with your life.”

“But I don’t want—”

They’re interrupted by a silver-haired gentleman in a pink shirt who puts a hand on Ms. English’s back and says, “Hello, Magda.”

Ms. English rises from her stool and offers the gentleman her hand. He kisses it like someone in the movies, and Chad thinks, Who is this dude? The guy is gazing at Ms. English like she’s a Victoria’s Secret Angel, and Chad feels uncomfortable—like he’s the one interrupting them, not the other way around—and protective too. He gets to his feet.

“Hi,” he says. “I work for Ms. English.”

The gentleman turns to Chad, then looks at Ms. English. “This is your long shot?”

Ms. English chuckles. “It is indeed. Xavier, please meet Chadwick Winslow. Chadwick, this is Xavier Darling.”

Mario’s “I Love You” Playlist for Lizbet

“XO”—Beyoncé

“Let My Love Open the Door”—Pete Townshend

“Whatever It Is”—Zac Brown Band

“Never Tear Us Apart”—INXS

“Come to Me”—Goo Goo Dolls

“Everlong”—Foo Fighters

“Head Over Feet”—Alanis Morissette

“Never Let You Go”—Third Eye Blind

“Wonderful Tonight”—Eric Clapton

“Swing Life Away”—Rise Against

“Something”—The Beatles

“You’re My Home”—Billy Joel

“I Believe”—Stevie Wonder

“Better Together”—Luke Combs

“You and Me”—Lifehouse

“All I Want Is You”—U2

“In My Feelings”—Drake

“Lay Me Down”—Dirty Heads

“Sunshine”—World Party

“Crazy Love”—Van Morrison

“Stand by My Woman”—Lenny Kravitz

It’s late on the night of the twenty-fourth, so late it’s the twenty-fifth, and Mario slips between the sheets of Lizbet’s bed and starts the ritual of unbraiding her hair. He likes the way it looks all kinked and long, so she indulges him. Lizbet isn’t fully awake but her desire stirs at the feel of his hands in her hair, his front pressed against her back. Because she’s in that liminal state between waking and sleeping, her animal instincts emerge, and she loses all inhibition. Their lovemaking is a storm—and this night, she hears the tapping of rain on her cottage’s roof, then the tree branches swiping at her windows, then a sharp crack followed by a grumble of thunder. Lizbet’s and Mario’s bodies move over the bed in a darkness that’s briefly illuminated by flashes of lightning. It’s cinematic, she thinks; how beautiful they are in those split seconds when their bodies are silvered by the electrical charge in the air.

Afterward, they lie flat on the bottom sheet, the duvet kicked to the floor, and Lizbet wonders if she’s ever been this happy. She has focused all of her energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new, just as the sign at the end of her bed has been urging her to do for nearly an entire calendar year. She wishes that back on September 30, she could have somehow known that one day she would be lying in bed next to Mario freaking Subiaco after having impressed the hell out of the new owner of the Hotel Nantucket, where she was the general manager. Would she have believed it?