The Nantucket air was crisp, the kind of autumn afternoon that made you want to wear cashmere and pretend you were the main character in a Nancy Meyers movie. The leaves crunched underfoot as Thomas Winbury adjusted the cuffs of his blazer, forcing a neutral expression while walking beside his very pregnant wife, Abby. He told himself that today—this day—was going to be calm, peaceful, scandal-free.
It had been nearly a week since Leighton Murray and her unhinged college crew upended his life, but Thomas was determined to move on.
The two of them were headed to another one of his mother's book signings, an event that—under any other circumstances—he would have absolutely skipped. But after the absolute public relations nightmare that was him being exposed for cheating on Abby at the Sand Dollar Motel, he figured showing up to support his mother would help damage control.
Abby, dressed in an elegant yet effortlessly casual ivory sweater dress, glanced at him as they approached the Winbury Books pop-up event in downtown Nantucket.
"Are you going to be normal today?" she asked, side-eyeing him with the kind of exhausted patience reserved for a woman whose husband had recently become the biggest walking scandal on the island.
Thomas sighed, running a hand through his already perfectly styled hair. "Define normal."
"Not sulking. Not panicking. Not looking over your shoulder like you think someone's going to dump a bucket of blood on you like we're in Carrie."
Thomas scowled. "That was one time."
Abby gave him a knowing look. "You deserved it."
They entered the bookstore, where Greer Winbury, ever the literary icon, was seated behind an ornate wooden table, signing copies of her latest book while appearing as if she hadn't just spent the last four days scolding Thomas for humiliating their family name.
"Mother," Thomas greeted, his voice strained.
"Thomas," Greer responded smoothly, barely sparing him a glance as she continued signing copies. "Glad you could make it. I assume this is part of your rehabilitation tour?"
Thomas grit his teeth. "I'm here to support you."
"Mhmm," Greer murmured, not looking convinced. She handed a signed book to an eager customer. "Next."
Abby took a seat in the front row, already looking exhausted, while Thomas attempted to fade into the background.
For one blessed hour, things went smoothly. Greer read an excerpt from her book, answered questions about her writing process, and for a brief, beautiful moment, Thomas started to believe he had escaped the absolute nightmare that was Leighton Murray & Co.
And then…
The megaphone happened.
"TESTING, TESTING—IS THIS THING ON?"
The entire event froze. Customers looked around in confusion, heads turning toward the sound of the voice booming through a megaphone from outside the bookstore.
Thomas's stomach dropped.
That voice. That obnoxious, smug, chaos-loving voice.
Leighton Murray.
He turned toward the storefront windows and—sure enough—there she was. Standing on top of a convertible, megaphone in hand, while Kimberly Finkle was behind the wheel, looking vaguely concerned but not concerned enough to actually stop this from happening.
"HELLO, PEOPLE OF NANTUCKET!" Leighton's voice echoed through the air. "I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAVING A FABULOUS, SCANDAL-FREE DAY—UNLIKE SOMEONE WE KNOW!"
Thomas felt rage bubbling up inside him. "Oh my God—"
"LET'S GIVE A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THOMAS WINBURY!" Leighton yelled into the megaphone, dramatically gesturing toward the bookstore. "THOMAS, EVERYBODY! THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE CHEATER!"
A collective gasp rippled through the bookstore crowd.
Greer stiffened behind the table, the pen in her hand snapping in half. Abby buried her face in her hands.
Thomas? Thomas looked like he was about to commit an actual crime.
"LEIGHTON!" he roared, storming toward the door.
But Leighton, the absolute menace that she was, was not done yet.
"OH, COME ON, TOMMY! DON'T LOOK SO MAD! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DECIDED TO HAVE A LOW-BUDGET AFFAIR AT A MOTEL WHERE THE TVS STILL HAVE VHS PLAYERS!"
Inside the store, someone choked on their coffee.
"AND LET'S NOT FORGET THE BEST PART!" Leighton continued. "HE THOUGHT HE COULD GET AWAY WITH IT! BUT THANKS TO THE MAGIC OF SOCIAL MEDIA, WE ALL KNOW THE REAL THOMAS WINBURY—THE ONE WHO CAN'T EVEN CHEAT DISCREETLY!"
"DRIVE!" Thomas shouted toward the parking lot, as if he could telepathically command Kimberly to speed away with Leighton before she could cause any more damage.
Kimberly, still behind the wheel, hesitated. "Uh, should I go? Or—"
Leighton, thrilled with herself, waved at the crowd. "HAPPY READING, EVERYONE! HOPE YOU ENJOY THE BOOK ABOUT FICTIONAL SCANDALS, BUT REMEMBER—THE REAL ONES ARE ALWAYS BETTER!"
And with that, Kimberly panicked and floored it, speeding away as Leighton cackled from the passenger seat, holding the megaphone in victory.
For a solid ten seconds, complete silence filled the bookstore.
Then, someone from the back let out a low whistle.
"Wow," murmured Amelia Sacks, shaking her head as she sipped her overpriced latte. "Merritt Monaco would've rolled from her grave and caught dead in this."
Greer slowly turned toward her humiliated son, eyes narrowed.
Thomas stood there, seething, mortified, and fully aware that this war was far from over.
Abby, voice deadpan, finally spoke.
"So," she muttered. "How's that moving on from the drama thing going?"
And Thomas, for the first time in his life, realized—
He had lost control.