Loving Liberty

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Loving Liberty Page 2

by Belinda Boring


  “Anything?” The second the word was out, I wanted to slap my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what it was about this guy, but he had me forgetting all of my mother’s etiquette training. I was actually flirting, and it felt good.

  Oliver laughed and the sound created another whirlwind in my body. That’s when I knew he was dangerous. “Especially if I can make you smile like that.” I instantly looked down to my lap, unsure of how to respond.

  There was no need to worry as just at that moment, my older sister, Erica, approached the table, sitting down in the empty seat beside me. She glared at Oliver, obviously annoyed he was standing there, and ordered a drink before waving her hand to dismiss him. He graciously overlooked her rudeness, smiling at me one more time before leaving.

  “Please tell me you weren’t flirting with him, Liberty,” she demanded, her question laced heavily with disgust. When I didn’t answer with the correct response of denial, she shook her head. “Can’t I leave you alone for more than a few minutes?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, Erica. And what if I was?” I felt the battle coming on. It always felt like we were in competition with each other, trying to see who pleased our parents more. It wasn’t how I wanted my relationship with her, but nothing I did ever softened her frosty attitude toward me. She saw me as a threat, one she did everything in her power to eliminate.

  “He’s hired help. He’s so beneath you. What would Mom say if she knew? Hmmm, maybe I’ll just let her know.” Erica wore an all-familiar cruel smile. I closed my eyes, knowing that without meaning to, my talking with Oliver would be conversation fodder for at least the next few days. My sister was relentless once she uncovered something.

  “If only I knew what?” As if mentioning her name was a summons, my mother appeared. She was the picture of elegance—her appearance completely molded and designed to display her social status. She was considered one of the top-tier elite within our social circle and it showed. She looked as though she’d just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine with her tailored green evening dress, strapped heels, and flawless make-up. Even her manicured nails were impeccable. Her dream was to have her daughters follow in her footsteps and Erica was definitely doing it; but each time I saw her primped this way, I felt exhausted. I saw how much effort it took to present such a dignified front to the public, all while wearing a smile.

  “Liberty was flirting with one of the Wait Staff. Heaven knows what would have happened if I hadn’t arrived when I did.” I wanted to growl at the syrupy, fake concern with which Erica coated her words. “It’s worrisome, Mom. Can you imagine the scandal?”

  I took a deep breath in, waiting to see how my mother responded. She seemed tense for a moment, as though wanting to lash out. But, as quickly as I noticed her reaction, it was gone. Despite her concealed annoyance at my apparent audacity, she didn’t accept my sister’s goading.

  “We’ll talk more about this when we get home,” she answered with a smile, her voice light and breezy. Only I noticed the slight tic below her eye. I knew what to look for.

  Erica sat back in her chair, wearing a victorious grin. A tiny part of me wanted to lean over and smack the smug expression from her face. Instead, I took another drink of water, trying not to cringe.

  “Have you seen who else is here?” My mother asked, brushing away imaginary lint from my shoulder. She straightened the strap of my evening dress, displeased with how it sat against my skin. “Andrew Hampton. Your father has spent the last ten minutes talking business with him. He’s quite impressive and rumor says he’s streamlined to become a partner at his law firm.”

  “I thought we didn’t gossip,” I quipped, forgetting to keep my thoughts to myself. My mother’s lips pursed in instant annoyance. This was becoming quite the evening—first, flirting with Oliver and now this.

  Mother continued talking as though I hadn’t just questioned her. “He’d be a good catch for either of you girls, but I’m thinking about you, Liberty. Andrew may be just what you need.”

  I knew what her last comment was code for. She considered my talking with Oliver an act of rebellion, one she planned on squashing immediately. I was used to the parade of different suitors, used to being showcased like prized cattle. Looking around the large room for my father, I saw him talking with a young man.

  Andrew wasn’t anything special to look at—average height, build, and appearance. He wore his black hair short and tidy, unlike Oliver, whose more contemporary style made him sexy. Andrew looked like a younger, carbon copy version of my dad. They even wore the same colored charcoal suit and white shirt.

  Great, I inwardly sighed. “Heaven forbid I find love on my own.”

  “Who said anything about love? What you need is stability, Liberty Montgomery, and a man who can provide you with the lifestyle you’re accustomed to. You need financial stability, good breeding, and strong moral fiber. Love has nothing to do with finding the right husband. Now sit up straight. He’s looking over here.”

  I did what I was told, correcting my posture as my mother chastised me. Nothing was ever right with her, especially the secret wish I’d unfortunately revealed. Whereas my family was all about appearance and maintaining their position on the social ladder, I longed for something simpler—more meaningful. I wanted love. The kind that overshadows everything. The type that transforms you into something bigger, better. And I craved it almost as much as I craved a life of my own.

  “Excuse me, I have your drinks.” Oliver returned and I immediately broke my gaze away from Andrew to stare up at him.

  I could easily fall in love with you, I thought. You would be perfect for me.

  Watching as he placed a martini down in front of Erica, I was surprised when he set something by my hand. It was another glass filled with sparkling water, but this time with small raspberries added.

  “It gives it a nice flavor,” Oliver said, showing me another grin before winking. My eyes widened at the revelation that he had done that for me and I shyly returned his smile.

  “Thank you. I’ve never tried it this way.”

  My mother coughed, pulling my attention away from Oliver and by force of habit, I straightened in my seat. Embarrassed, my head dropped toward my lap and he moved away. I wanted to call him back.

  I didn’t know what it was about him, but he oozed of one thing—freedom.

  “See what I mean?” Erica retorted, sarcastically.

  I forced myself not to respond or follow Oliver’s retreating form. Pretending the situation held no importance, I reached for the fresh glass, my attention returning to Andrew. He was laughing at something my father said, flashing his overly white teeth in the process. When he looked over to where we were sitting, our eyes connected for a brief moment. Tilting his head in greeting, I nodded in reply, the glass rim touching my lips.

  “Liberty Jane.” The use of my middle name caused me to freeze mid sip.

  “Yes?”

  Without another word, my mother took my raspberry flavored water and handed me my previous glass. She didn’t need to say anything, the message was clear—she knew best and even the smallest change wasn’t acceptable.

  I caught glimpses of Oliver during the rest of the night, but he didn’t approach me again.

  Just as well, I sighed when the fundraiser was finally over. But I knew I was lying to myself. Meeting Oliver had sparked something within me—a taste of what I’d been missing.

  I just hoped it wasn’t the last time I saw him.

  Chapter Two

  “You look beautiful tonight, Liberty.” It was hard not to roll my eyes at Andrew. Ever since we’d been introduced, each compliment he paid me felt somehow insincere. I was sure there were others who’d love being sweet-talked by a successful, young lawyer. I just wasn’t one of them.

  “Thank you,” I answered, not even looking over at him. He grabbed my hand, surprising me with how forward he was. Instantly, I plastered on a smile for show, and buried the overwhelming instinct to pull away.
My mother was somewhere in the large room, no doubt watching and evaluating my every move so she could dissect it later, in one of her infamous discussions. My being here with Andrew meant way more to her than it did me.

  “Would you dance with me?” I wanted to laugh because even though he posed it as a question, we both knew I had no choice. It felt like all eyes were on me, and I couldn’t be seen refusing anything from the highly desirable bachelor.

  “Sure, that would be nice.” The picture of graceful manners, I let him help me stand and didn’t flinch when he placed his hand possessively at the small of my back. Leading us to the makeshift dance floor, he swung me into his arms, holding me way too close for my liking.

  Erica had been furious two weeks ago when both my parents had declared they were pairing Andrew and I together. Being a few years older, she felt entitled to be the first one married. I tried convincing her she could have him, he was definitely not my type, but it resulted in a look of derision from both her and my mother.

  “What do you mean ‘not your type’? Since when do you have ‘a type’? You will date whomever your father and I tell you to,” my mother shrilled. In the privacy of our home, she had no problem voicing her extreme displeasure with me.

  “I don’t know that I have one. I just know Andrew isn’t it.” There was no point adding that I knew this because he was basically a younger version of my father. As much as I loved my dad, I didn’t want to be married and thoroughly controlled by someone who would dictate my every move. It was only an assumption, on my part, that Andrew was like that. I didn’t have hard evidence, but my gut told me he was.

  Dancing with him now, I knew without a doubt. If I married Andrew, like my mother was hoping, he would stifle whatever small pieces of hope for freedom I held in my heart. He would completely smother me.

  It was hard not to push against his chest now, putting some much needed distance between us. He held me as if he already owned me, a strong signal to everyone in the room that given time, I would become his Liberty Hampton. His hand on my lower back felt wrong. His breath in my ear before he spun me around the dance floor made my stomach churn. The way he groaned disapprovingly when I accidently stepped on his toes made me want to scream. Instead, I endured. I smiled widely, even though inside he bored me to tears.

  I bet dancing with Oliver would be different than this. For what seemed like the millionth time since I’d last seen him, my mind conjured up his image and instantly my stomach fluttered. Oliver had become the near constant focus of my daydreams and fantasies.

  “Liberty?” Andrew’s baritone intruded my thoughts.

  “Yes?” I looked up and noticed his frown. I’d obviously missed something and he wasn’t impressed by my lack of attention. “Did you say something?”

  “I asked if you’d like to have dinner with me this week. Your mother was telling me how much you love Italian, so I thought you might like going to that new restaurant, Fiorelli’s, that just opened up. It’s getting great reviews. What do you think?”

  Thanks, but no thanks. “I’d love to,” was all I could say.

  My lackluster response didn’t faze him. “Excellent. I’ll have my assistant call you on Monday and set it all up. You’ll just love it. They make a delicious mushroom risotto that I can’t wait for you to try.” Andrew touched the side of my cheek, his finger trailing down to my jawline before settling on my lower back again.

  I wanted to stomp on his foot. Even though my parents did it all the time, people choosing my food was a big pet peeve of mine; and the fact that he wanted me to eat mushrooms just further irritated me. However, instead of telling him they made me ill, I bit my tongue and simply nodded. It was moments like these where being brave enough to run and never return was so tempting. But my parents would be so disappointed. The scandal my rebellion would cause would undoubtedly fuel my guilt for a lifetime.

  Tilting my head as I plastered on yet another fake smile, I tried to make my response sound at least somewhat sincere. “I can’t wait, Andrew. Italian food is delicious. One day I want to actually tour the Italian countryside and sample all their local cuisines.”

  “Really? I would think you’d want to keep your dainty figure.” Andrew laughed, twirling me under his arm before grasping me tightly again. “Rich foods are good in moderation but . . .” He released me so his gaze could trail up and down my body. “I can’t imagine what vacationing in Italy would do to you.”

  I didn’t even bother hiding my snort. “I wasn’t really thinking of my body. I simply want to go for the experience. To immerse myself in a different culture and live the way they do. Even if it’s for a short time.”

  Judging by the frown that was back on his face, I’d shared too much. “Interesting.” He didn’t speak again and I tried not to wince when his hand moved to where his fingers gripped my hip.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my upbringing kicking in. His silence told me I’d overstepped and needed to fix whatever I’d done wrong.

  “No, Liberty.” It was his smile that now looked a little strained. “I just didn’t know you had such adventurous plans. Your father hinted you were ready to settle down, so your comment surprised me.”

  It was just as I thought. My parents were already setting the stage and Andrew was their choice of ideal husband material.

  “There are a lot of things I’d love to see. The world’s a big place.” My voice was soft as the words slipped out. I was digging myself into a deeper grave.

  “I’m sure it’s something we can talk about more at another time.” I was sure he was right. Once this brief conversation was shared with my parents, I was confident they’d be discussing it with me, too. Young ladies, like me, never contradicted the wishes of their parents, like mine. We didn’t have a mind of our own. Our hopes and dreams were a direct reflection of how we were raised.

  Suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in my lungs and I was choking. Stepping away, not caring how it looked or who I was banging into, there was only a few seconds to offer an apology. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I don’t feel good. Excuse me for a moment.” Not waiting for his permission, I turned and fled to the restroom.

  I ignored the querying glance my mother gave me as she started toward me. Raising my hand to let her know it was okay; I indicated that I didn’t want her following me, where she would scrutinize my every emotion. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, so remaining in the crowded banquet hall was out of the question. Escaping was my only option.

  The restroom suddenly became off limits as I watched Erica enter through the white door. She’d had a foul temper all night and I wasn’t in the mood for her mockery, either. Clutching my chest, the panicky feeling amplified. I was completely caged. There was nowhere to hide.

  “I’ve got you, Liberty.”

  There was no time for argument as someone pulled me through a nearby door. I was safe now and that was all that mattered. In the privacy of what appeared to be a supply room, I discovered my rescuer and was relieved and overwhelmed to see Oliver’s knitted brow. The second his arms encircled me in a protective embrace, my body started trembling.

  “You’re okay. Just take slow, deep breaths.” His hand rubbed up and down my back in soothing patterns.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I stuttered. Tears were close to the surface, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry.”

  “Ssssh, I think you’re having a panic attack,” he whispered, not letting me go. “It’ll pass. Just keep focusing on your breathing. You’re okay.” He spoke calmly, the confidence in his voice telling me it was okay to trust what he was saying. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against his chest, my racing heart slowly settling down.

  “That’s it. Good girl.” Oliver didn’t stop touching me as I kept my arms securely around his waist. He’d become my lifeline in the chaos and I wasn’t ready to let him go, just yet. “Just sit here while I get you some water.” Peering up at him, his thoughtfulness amazed me. “Not the
sparkling kind, though. I remember how much you hate that.”

  His comment made me laugh. Offering him a grateful smile, I sat on a large box pushed against the wall and continued taking steadying breaths while he was gone. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if there was anyone searching for me. Something told me if my family saw me now, they’d berate me for displaying such weakness.

  It didn’t take Oliver long to return. “Here you go.”

  Thanking him, I took a tentative sip of water and sighed in relief. The liquid left a cool trail down my throat that felt like heaven, my hands shaking a little as I held the glass. Neither of us said anything, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt right.

  “So,” Oliver finally said, taking a seat beside me on a nearby box. “Want to talk about it?”

  I was glad I’d worn my hair down tonight, convincing my mother that it complemented the blue dress she’d handpicked for me. The hanging strands created a welcome curtain to hide my embarrassment, but it didn’t stop Oliver from reaching over and brushing it behind my ear.

  “That bad, huh?”

  I wasn’t sure how to put everything into words without sounding like a complete idiot. But when I gazed up at him, there was obviously concern in his eyes. I was a stranger to him; yet here he was, hiding with me in a storeroom, instead of doing his job.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” I murmured, placing the glass on the ground before it slipped from my hand.

  “Chances are we’ll be seeing a lot of each other if you come to these types of fundraisers. A friend of mine, from school, owns the catering company and I can always use the extra cash. The pay’s pretty good and it’s a steady gig.” Oliver bumped his shoulder against mine. “Plus, every now and then I get to hide away with pretty girls.”

  “You don’t even know me.” I laughed softly. Already my breathing had slowed and I was starting to feel more and more like myself. A few more minutes and I could return to the party. The very thought seemed to accelerate my heart rate and suck the air out of the room.

 

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