Nate took the napkin from her and held her hands in his over the table.
“I am so sorry,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. She could see tears welling in his own and felt him squeeze her hands.
“Thank you,” she said. “My dad was my savior. He swooped in, quit his job, and became a stay at home parent. He got me through my first period, buying my first bra…”
Liberty stopped talking when she noticed Nate had gone slightly pink. Despite the sombre conversation, a laugh escaped her—there was something that made him blush after all.
“When did he turn your home into a motel?” he asked.
Glad of the change in tone, Liberty took one of her hands back and started picking at the topping of her Vegetarian Delight.
“I feel awful about it now,” she said. “But as soon as I could, I fled Little Norwich and went to university. I guess dad got lonely, wanted some company and something to do since I was no longer there. Maybe he thought it would be a bit of a money maker too. Although it seems to drain everything now. He’s in hospital. That’s why I’m back.”
Suddenly the sweetcorn and peppers seemed cold and unappetising.
“I… I don’t want to make this about me,” Nate began, tripping over his words. “But I do know exactly how you feel.”
He retracted both his hands into his lap and stared at his pizza. A waiter came out, rushing around them, a dish towel folded over his arm.
“Everything okay with the food?” he asked them, perturbed by their unhappy faces and half eaten food.
Liberty gave him a big smile.
“Sorry, Marc. Everything is delish, as always.”
He vanished inside before they had a chance to say anything else. A cool draft followed him. Nate smiled at Liberty.
“You’re always so polite.”
“The pizza is delish,” she smiled back.
“Yeah, but… you just have this way of making everyone feel at ease.”
“Except you?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.
“You make me feel something I’ve not felt in a long long time,” he said, his cheeks turning pink again.
“Oh?”
“Stop it! I meant nervous.”
“Oh,” Liberty said, this time not so enthusiastically.
Nate realized he’d said something wrong.
“No, not nervous in a bad way. You put butterflies in my stomach. You set my pulse racing. I can’t work out what it is, but you make me feel at ease, but in a nervous way.”
Liberty knew exactly what he meant, because that’s how she felt when she was with him too. Happy, relaxed, but oh so nervous. It was as if there was an electric current running, and they were the conductors.
“You know this can never work, don’t you?” she blurted, hating herself for the pain she could see in his eyes.
“It’s not totally unthinkable,” he said quietly, pushing his plate away from him.
“I can’t live in the world you live in. Your life is too different. I can’t leave my dad alone to manage Pebble Cove, especially not while he’s in hospital.” Liberty pushed her chair back and stood. “And I can’t ask you to wait for me.”
“Liberty,” Nate said, standing and facing her over the table. “Please don’t leave. Sit. Please.”
Her phone rang out, its tinny sound echoing around the night air. Liberty took the cell out of her bag. She needed a distraction, and this had come at the perfect time.
“Sorry, excuse me,” she said turning her back to him and answering the call.
“Miss Reynolds?” The voice at the other end of the phone sounded tired.
“Speaking.”
“Miss Reynolds, my name is Dr Alexander. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your dad has had another stroke. We think it would be a good idea for you to come to the hospital as soon as you can.”
Liberty’s blood ran cold.
“I’ll come straight away.”
She bolted from the restaurant, not looking back. Nothing mattered anymore except getting to the hospital as fast as she could. She couldn’t lose her dad. She just couldn’t.
18
It had been her date ‘emergency’, Nate was certain of it. He knew that most women had a date ‘emergency’: a friend who would call in the middle of the date to give them an excuse to leave if it wasn’t going well.
He hadn’t realized just how dramatic the emergency had to seem.
He didn’t want to sit back down and pick at the rest of his pizza. His appetite had fled along with Liberty, and along with his self-esteem. It was painfully clear how she felt about him now, and she’d said it herself, this could never work.
Having never been to the pizzeria before, Nate had no idea how much money to leave. He flicked through his wallet to see nothing but hundred-dollar bills, throwing a couple on the table and hating himself for doing so. There was a lack of decorum that came with having money, something that Nate had always promised himself he wouldn’t adopt. All of that had been thrown out of the window the moment he’d strewn his cash on the table. The amount was far too much, Nate knew that, but he was trying to pay his way out of a sad situation.
His shoulders sagged as he considered the fact that Liberty would never do something so crass. There was a moment when he considered collecting the notes from where he’d thrown them, fluttering in the light breeze as they sat on the table cloth. It was only the impending arrival of the waiter, deftly moving around the booths inside the restaurant, that made Nate decide not to. Instead he picked up his jacket and started to walk back to Pebble Cove and his car.
It was late, and the drive long, but Nate wasn’t going to hang around and wait until morning. With Pebble Cove the only motel in town he wasn’t exactly spoilt for choice for other places to stay. He’d tried. He’d failed. Nate knew when to give up. The night was beautiful, the warm air tempered only by a slight breeze, which felt good on Nate’s heated face. The road from the town square soon turned into the dirt track leading to the motel. Nate wished the walk was longer. He was enjoying being out and having the freedom to walk in the fresh, quiet—
Something burst out of nowhere, thumping into him. His hands shot up to protect himself, but the blow was so hard and fast that both of them were knocked off their feet. The ground under Nate’s back felt rough, his thin top not providing much protection against the dirt gravel—especially when the other person landed on top of him. Nate’s immediate reaction was fear, and he tried to push himself up. As he did so, though, he caught a whiff of vanilla and lavender, and a hint of tarragon. It was the tarragon that gave it away.
“Liberty?” he said, struggling up onto his elbows.
Her face was right in front of his, her hair tickling his cheek. Until it wasn’t, and she was thrashing about to get back on her feet.
“My bag. I left my bag. I need my keys.”
Tears were streaming down Liberty’s face, gleaming in the dark. Nate grabbed her shoulders and tried to calm her down.
“Get off!” She threw his hands away and ran in the direction of the town square. She didn’t get far before she cried out, falling to the ground again and clutching her foot.
Nate noticed that her shoe had fallen off and he collected it, rushing over and offering it to her.
“Let me help,” he said.
“I need my keys. I can’t drive without my car keys.”
“I’ll drive,” he said. “You can barely see. Tell me where and I’ll take you.”
And with that he scooped her off the floor and carried her back to his Cadillac. She relaxed into him, resting her head on his shoulders, still sobbing.
“The hospital,” she whispered through tears, as though she had just surrendered herself to her tiredness.
Nate opened the passenger door and placed Liberty gently on the seat. He left her to buckle her belt while he dropped into the driver’s seat, and with a screech of tires they sped off to Greater Norwich.
“I thought you’d pulled the great
getaway on me back there, Liberty. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Nate sped down the freeway towards the city junction. The roads were so clear here. At home he’d have been lucky to be pushing ten miles an hour at this time of night, even on the main roads. Liberty had stopped crying, though her face remained red and patchy. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad to know that you didn’t run because of me.” Nate realised what he’d just said and flung his hand over his mouth. “That wasn’t what I meant. Obviously I’m not glad something is really wrong. Oh gosh, I think I’ll stop talking now.”
He shifted down a gear. The car hummed beneath his feet, a sensation that normally made Nate feel relaxed and in control. But he could sense Liberty watching him, and yet again it felt as if she was pulling the rug from beneath his feet.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s the next exit.”
They drove in silence—a good silence that neither of them felt the need to fill. The hospital was well lit and shone through the darkness of the night. Nate pulled up outside the main entrance.
“I’ll go and park and get us some coffees. I’ll find you.”
Liberty was out of the car like a shot.
“Thank you,” she shouted as she ran for the automatic doors.
The parking lot was only half full, and Nate soon found a space between an old Lincoln and a beaten-up truck. His gleaming Cadillac stuck out like a sore thumb, but it barely crossed his mind to be worried about it. Nate picked his way across the parking lot to the doors he’d watched Liberty run through. The tarmac was pitted with divots and indented with car tracks, showing the wear and tear from the people who had visited the hospital over the years. Each imperfection marking a birth or a death and all that came in between.
The smell that hit him as he passed through the automatic doors into the reception hit him like a fist. It was so evocative of the pain and hurt he’d endured every time he’d visited his mom. Each visit had left him feeling empty, because each time he went she remembered even less. Until one day she hadn’t even known who he was. That day he had felt his heart break, and his whole body grind to a halt, fearing that he would have to rely on his dad from there on out. Except Nate hadn’t relied on his dad, he’d gone to school and gotten the best results he could, and the rest was history.
It wasn’t history right now, though, and the smell was causing a ball of panic to rise in his chest.
There were two rows of plastic chairs to the right of the entrance. Nate bypassed the curious looks from the admissions desk and sat down on the back row. He willed himself to slow down his breathing, to concentrate on the movement of his diaphragm; up, down, up, down. A man holding what looked like a dish towel to his nose, stifling the blood running down his face, came through the doors with a blast of warm air. Nate watched as he stepped up to the desk and tried his best to give his details.
Liberty needs you, Nate, he thought. If a man bleeding profusely from his face can approach the desk, so can you.
He chided himself for his weakness and headed to the admissions desk, trying to avoid standing on the blood splatters on the tiled floor.
“I’m wondering if you can help me?” he asked the girl who was now assisting the—extremely pale—bleeder. She looked up at him, blushing as she took in his face. Her look of recognition was unmistakeable.
“Yes, I’d love to, Mr Parker,” she said, pouting. “Anything for you.”
Nate ignored her come-on.
“A young woman came through these doors a few moments ago, I think she was looking for her dad. Liberty Reynolds? Please can you tell me where she is?”
The girl chewed her bottom lip as she tapped away on the computer.
“You know, I grew up in Little Norwich, never knew a girl called Marie,” she said. Her eyes didn’t leave the screen.
“Right, uh…” Nate didn’t know what to say.
“What was her maiden name? I wonder if my family know her family? What a tragedy, by the way. I am really sorry for your loss.” There was a tone to her voice that Nate didn’t read as sympathy.
“She was a loner, her whole family was off the grid.”
Nate spun around at the sound of the voice. The girl looked up from the computer screen and popped her gum.
“Completely off the grid,” Liberty said again. “I knew her, before Nate stole her away to a life of luxury. She was lucky to get out of Little Norwich when she did.”
Liberty looked as though she had the world on her shoulders, yet she’d still come to his aid. The haunting rings around her eyes hurt him to see. He smiled and walked away from the cruel questions to a warm embrace from a woman who looked as though she could do with receiving one herself.
“Thank you,” he whispered, as he kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Liberty.”
19
Their footsteps echoed dully around the scuffed cream walls of the hospital corridors. Liberty often thought the floor was deliberately designed to muffle anyone in proper shoes, to give the patients some peace, but it created an eerie sort of ambience. Ghost walkers. She stopped in front of a closed door, a sign by the side read Burt Reynolds. Nate gave a small laugh, despite himself.
“Not the Burt Reynolds,” Liberty said. “In fact his name isn’t really Burt. It’s Albert. But he’s well known around here as Buddy after the original Burt Reynolds.” She peered through the window of the door. “He’s asleep.”
“Would you like me to head back to the reception?” Nate offered. “Or I can wait for you somewhere else if that’s easier?”
“No.” Liberty shook her head. “It’s okay. I think I’ll stay here for the night in case he wakes up.”
She looked at the concern etched on his face.
“He had another stroke. But the doctor is hopeful.” She tried to appear hopeful herself, but feeling it was another matter. Her dad lay prone in bed, just a sheet covering him, his knees and hip bones imitating a mountain range under the thin, white cloth. There were wires from his heart, his fingers, his nose, looping over and under each other, attached to machines that never stopped beeping. Liberty’s hope was diminishing with each artificial breath.
“At least come for a coffee with me first?” Nate said, enveloping her in his arms. “It won’t do you any good to stay here and watch him.”
She sank into his body, grateful for the support. Even if it wasn’t going to be long lived, it was nice to feel as though there was someone watching out for her—that they could watch out for each other at this moment, when they both seemed to need it. She breathed in his scent and felt her tummy spin. How could she could be feeling these emotions when she was so full of worry and sadness for her father? It didn’t make sense.
“Okay” she agreed. “He won’t be waking up anytime soon. There’s a cafe at the back of the hospital, we can continue with our date.”
Liberty’s hand snapped to her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say date. She wasn’t even sure it had been a date. But when she looked at Nate’s face she could see the happiness there, which made her tummy spin even more wildly.
“Deal,” he said. “Just promise you won’t run out on me this time?”
The cafeteria was light and airy compared with the corridors they had taken to get to it. It was nestled right at the back of the hospital, between the labour ward and the paediatric ward. Obviously the people who make decisions thought that visitors to these wards needed the most coffee. There weren’t many customers, due to the late hour, and those who were sitting at the circular tables looked like they needed their beds rather than another shot of caffeine. A coffee machine hissed angrily as they left the counter and took a seat near the window.
Nate took Liberty’s hands in his over the table. Their steaming coffees sat untouched between them, the lids of the takeout cups taken off to help the liquid cool to a humane temperature.
“I feel like we’ve been through the mill and back
and we’ve only known each other a few days,” he said.
Liberty couldn’t speak. Right at that moment she could look past the glaring differences between them, she could really see the man sitting opposite her. In these surroundings, it was very easy to strip away all the complications of life and look at the bare bones. They were both just human beings after all.
“Who are you, Liberty Reynolds?” Nate said, watching her intensely, as if he was trying to find the answer inside her own eyes.
Liberty pulled her hands free and picked up her cup. It was still hotter than molten lava, but she needed to hide her face with something because she could tell her gaze was going to give away her feelings.
“I’m an accountant,” she said, speaking into the steaming liquid.
Nate burst out laughing.
“Really? I though accountants were supposed to be balding, middle-aged men with gray faces?”
He reached over the small circular table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Liberty’s heart almost shot through the roof. At least she was in the right place if it did decide to stop working.
“Not beautiful, kind, thoughtful, intriguing, sensual, young women with gray eyes.”
There was no smile on his face now, just pure longing. Liberty blushed from her hair all the way down to her toes.
“Stop it,” she said, bringing her cup up so that nearly all of her bright red face was hidden behind it. “Didn’t you hear what I said to you back at Trat?”
Nate cleared his throat and sat back in the faded yellow chair. A TV blared in the background, showing a loop of the day’s news headlines. It was tragedy after tragedy. Liberty wondered why on earth they had that on in a hospital cafeteria. They should loop something upbeat and positive, people here had enough doom and gloom to put up with. The newsreader puffed out a story about a family who’d lost their lives trying to save their pet dog from the ocean. The dog had been the only survivor.
“That’s so sad,” Nate said, nodding in the direction of the TV. “Don’t you think we should just go for it? We don’t want to end up like that family?”
My Bereaved Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 2) Page 9
