“He’s invited pretty much the whole of the city media scene,” he said at last, knowing he was exaggerating.
“I know,” Tilly said, sighing. “He told me about it on the way over. I was going to warn you but there was no reception on the helicopter. Then you were too wrapped up in whatever it was that your dad said to the girl at the front desk and I just ran out of time. I’m sorry Nate.”
Nate felt his cheeks heat.
“Who is she?” Tilly asked with a sly smile on her face.
Nate got to his feet and wandered over to the window. The view from here was almost the same as the one from his own window. Nate’s mind fled back to his brief time with Liberty, watching the ocean together, and his heart soared as if it had dived from the cliffs into the water below.
The thought must have summoned her, because she suddenly appeared, walking down the path to the beach. Her blonde curls bounced playfully as she went, but her expression was dark. Nate wished with all his might that he was down there with her, holding her hand. Feeling his toes in the sand always made him relax, and he knew that having Liberty there would double the effect. But that wasn’t going to happen, not after what his dad had said, not after lying to her. Nate puffed a sigh through his lips.
“She’s no one,” he whispered, his voice fogging the glass and making Liberty disappear. It hurt to speak the words, but what else was there to say?
“Just do what feels right in your heart and everything will work out for the best, Nate,” Tilly said. “It always does. And you always do. You’d better be off now, I was about to get in the shower.”
“Ew,” Nate’s eyes twinkled as he headed out of the room. “I’ve had enough trauma for one day already, thank you.”
He left quickly, before the cushion aimed in his direction could hit him, and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the stairs, Tilly’s words echoing around his head. Just do what feels right in your heart and everything will work out for the best.
In his heart, he wanted to catch up with Liberty and explain everything, explain how it wasn’t a real funeral, that it was just the end of the marketing plan that had launched his company. That might make things better, even if he could just make her not hate him. But he knew deep down that she wouldn’t want that, that he should have been honest from the start.
And he wasn’t even sure if the truth was any better than the lie.
12
There really was no escape for Liberty. The funeral gathering was due to start.
Luckily, the weather was holding, and now it was mid-afternoon the sun wasn’t so hot. Fred was back with supplies, and he and Ginger were dressed and ready to waiter for the occasion. Ginger had kindly brushed the flour from Liberty’s dress and reminded her to take off her apron. Liberty had redone her hair to the best of her ability, wrapping it back up in the brightly coloured hairband. Her curls still popped out all over the place, but at least she was now free of cooking ingredients.
Each of the twins held a platter of food. Liberty fixed Fred’s wonky bowtie and gave him a smile. She’d never seen him looking quite so dapper—or uncomfortable. The two siblings headed out of the kitchen and down to the gardens, where Liberty assumed the guests would be waiting. She’d asked Ginger to take care of all the other arrivals, seeing as none of them were going to be overnight guests, and headed down to clear her head by the ocean for a few minutes.
There she had taken the time to read all about Nathaniel Parker and his family. By all accounts his marriage had been like something from a fairy tale. The few pictures that Liberty could find showed a beautiful, happy couple—walking along the beach hand in hand where they had first met, sitting together on a gondola in Venice, a beautiful service in a church in Paris. The pictures were so perfect they almost didn’t look real, and Liberty wondered if that’s what real love looked like, like something from a dream. There was very little written about them over the years—they’d chosen to live their perfect life in private—but each word was a dagger to her already bleeding, heart.
Nate hadn’t given her any pictures or epitaphs to display, and Liberty hadn’t gone out of her way to ask him, so the garden was fairly plain. All she had to do was grin and bear the next couple of hours then she could escape back to the beach and leave the twins in charge of clearing away.
There was a silver tray stacked with tall Champagne glasses. They were filled to the brim with good quality bubbles that had cost Liberty far more than she should have spent. Her generosity was pointless, because the Champagne wouldn’t even touch what Nate—no, Nathanial, Liberty told herself, he wasn’t Nate to her any more—was used to. He was a billionaire. How could Liberty have ever considered the idea that he’d be interested in her? No wonder the wives of the brothers were so well dressed, they could obviously afford the kinds of clothes that would make even Liberty look presentable, and they probably had weekly facials and teeth whitening and maybe even Botox. There was no way Liberty could keep up with those Joneses.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come. No doubt her garden would be full of rich, gorgeous people who would look down their noses at her, but she was ready to deal with them in a professional manner, and it was all for her dad. He’d be proud of her today, she was sure of that. He’d never been one for showing off. She picked up the tray and carefully balanced it on the tips of the fingers of her left hand. The action made her feel like the waitress she was, not the accountant she had trained so hard to be. She backed out of the door to the dining room and turned toward the gardens, almost dropping the tray on a man who was waiting outside the door.
“Oh gosh, I apologize,” she said, only realising who it was after she’d spoken.
Nate stood there, and he looked divine. His dark suit was quite obviously tailor made, as it fit him like water. It accentuated his wide shoulders and the muscles of his chest before tapering around his toned stomach. The pants were a perfect length for his long legs. The dark shirt and ocean blue tie complimented the suit perfectly, highlighting his beautiful eyes. The sight of him made Liberty want to drop the tray and be enveloped in his arms—but only for the few heartstopping seconds it took her to remember that he’d lied to her, and that she would never be good enough for him.
It was so unfair. How could he still be having this effect on her? It wasn’t just about how he looked, either, although that didn’t hurt, it was how he was looking at her. Liberty felt naked, like he could read her mind by just looking in her eyes.
“Have you got a moment…”
“I need to get these drinks to the guests…”
They both started talking at once. Liberty’s eyes fell to the floor, her cheeks positively on fire.
“Okay,” Nate said. “Here let me get the door for you.” He rushed in front of Liberty, pushing open the doors to the garden. “Please, give me a minute of your time later to explain. I… I…”
Nate stopped talking when he saw Liberty’s confusion.
“Where are all the guests?” she asked, looking at the garden. It was empty except for the media, Tilly, and the members of Nate’s family. She walked down the steps to the gathered crowd and started offering the alcohol. Nate followed close behind.
“This is it,” he replied. He nodded in the direction of the gathered journalists, leaning in and breathing the words into her ear. “Please don’t offer anything to them, they’re not welcome.”
Liberty didn’t hear a word he’d said, the tickle of his breath in her ear had sent a wonderful shiver up her spine. The hairs on her arms stood on end as goosebumps covered her body.
He’s no good, Liberty, remember that, she forced herself to think.
“You booked the event for forty,” Liberty said. She was starting to feel real annoyance, not just pretend, at the effort she had gone to for Nate and his glib response to her question. All the food, and the champagne, it was such a waste.
Besides, she had no intention of feeding the journalists and photographers. Why
would she? They were working, they weren’t here to mourn Nate’s dead wife.
Those two words dampened the rest of the feelings Nate had awoken in her, and Liberty turned to look at him.
“Was anything you told me the truth?” she asked.
She didn’t wait for him to answer, she just walked to the journalist who talking to Archie. She proffered the tray and they both took a glass. Liberty thought Nate was being just like Brett. They both had manipulated her into situations she really didn’t want to be in. But she couldn’t focus on that too much as that’s where the similarities ended. She had felt something in the brief moments she’d been in Nate’s company that she had never felt with Brett.
Companionship.
Liberty hated him.
Pure and simple.
The truth was, Nate had totally forgotten that he’d told Liberty there would be lots of people coming to the gathering. He’d been too distracted by her voice on the phone, and he’d said whatever had come into his head. He hadn’t meant to lie, he had just wanted to tell the truth for once: that this wasn’t a significant event in his life at all, just a very small event to let the rest of the world know about his new status. That was all it was meant to be. But how was she supposed to know that?
Nate fiddled with his sapphire cufflinks. He felt overdressed and awkward, and wished that he could slip out of the gardens and down to the beach. The reporter with the white hair approached with a cold smile.
“Nathaniel, nice to see you again,” she purred, taking out a Dictaphone.
“Lauren,” Nate replied coldly, his eyes searching the room for some backup. Tilly was nowhere to be seen.
“Can you give me a quote? Tell me about Marie, what do you miss the most?” Her free hand reached out and stroked his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “When will you be dating again? You know, that kind of thing.”
Nate grabbed her hand and pulled her over to an empty corner of the garden.
“I told you last time we met that I would never, ever speak to you again. You nearly ruined me with that story you pulled about Forevercom being a scam, and now you want me to open up to you? It’s not going to happen.”
Lauren shook her hand free and clicked off the Dictaphone.
“Thanks, gorgeous. If you’re ever in need of someone to fill your time, you know where to find me.”
She ran her tongue over her brightly painted coral lips before winking at him and turning to leave.
“Just get me a picture of the sad widower, Ant, and we’re out of here. Thanks for your hospitality.”
Lauren laughed as she headed toward the path that led out of the garden. Nate flinched as a flash went off in his face. Despite the warning from Lauren, he still was caught off guard. He hated having his photo taken at the best of times, but when he was already fuming at Lauren’s words the photo was the last straw.
“Get out!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
The garden fell silent. Nobody dared move.
“I said, get out, all of you. You shouldn’t be here. Go home.” Nate’s voice was rough, his neck felt hot.
More flashes went off in his face as he started rounding up the journalists and the photographers, along with his family. He could hear people tutting at him, and laughing, he wasn’t sure what was worse, but he didn’t have time to think about it. The grounds were getting smaller and smaller around him, the shrubs closing in, squeezing the air out of his chest as they encroached.
“Out,” he spluttered, breathless.
This was how it was going to be from now on, he knew. There had been a number of women who’d tried to seduce him, simply because they’d read about him in the papers or heard of his name, regardless of the fact they’d also read he was married. He had been able to turn them down over the years because he’d had a legitimate reason to. But even then it had been difficult for them to get the message.
This had cemented his worst fears. He was being hit on by a journalist who he openly detested, at his wife’s funeral, and she would only be the first of many. What hope did he have of ever finding somebody good? Somebody kind? Somebody who loved him for him?
13
Liberty watched as Nate dragged the reporter over to the corner of the garden, away from the small crowd. She felt sick. Not only had he tried it on with her, he was now trying it on with the white-haired woman. There was no surprise really, the reporter was stunning—in an ‘eat him alive’ kind of way. She was the complete opposite of Liberty, who was counting down the hours until she could change back into her floaty summer dress or, even better, her pjs.
Liberty watched as Nate spoke to the white-haired girl, the bile rising in her throat as he leaned in close to her face. She could imagine how he smelt, how his breath felt against her cheeks, how his eyes looked like the ocean. What Liberty couldn’t understand was how she could be feeling this jealous when she barely knew him—and when he had behaved so disgracefully.
Someone took a glass from the tray she was holding, causing it to tip slightly. Liberty barely felt it, nodding politely in the direction of whoever took the glass but keeping her eyes on Nate. Nothing was drawing her attention away from what he was up to. That was human nature, wasn’t it? To focus on what hurts you. It was like picking a scab.
“You know, what I said earlier is true,” said a voice by her side. “He’s a decent human being.”
She turned and saw Tilly, who was staring at Nate as he continued his intimate conversation with the reporter. Tilly looked amazing. She had changed into another fitted dress, this one dark navy, and had slicked her lips with a bright red colour which matched her shoes. Liberty thought the colour was slightly obscene for a funeral, but the petite, ageless beauty could pull it off.
“I’m sure he is,” Liberty replied, coldly. “It’s none of my business what he does, he’s a guest. I would just have rather known the truth about how many people were coming, that’s all.”
Tilly gracefully sipped her Champagne, her lipstick not even smudging the glass. Liberty was momentarily amazed.
“I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that you’re more to him than just a hostess.”
Liberty snorted. She felt her pulse quicken and had to fight back the questions that were flooding her brain. Why had Tilly said that? Had Nate said something to her about Liberty?
Don’t be an idiot, she scolded herself.
“Really,” Tilly kept talking. “I don’t know why. He has this look in his eyes when he watches you, I’ve never seen it before.”
“He’s just buried his wife,” Liberty said. “He’s over there trying it on with that journalist.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Tilly said. “None of it. He loathes journalists. He’s generally closed off to everyone. But not you. There was something different about the way he was with you.”
“He… he… well he was kind to me,” Liberty said.
“Kind to you,” Tilly laughed. “Of course he was kind to you, he’s a kind person. You’re making out like it’s a bad thing.”
“No, I mean he… I don’t know… he just…” Liberty sighed and put the tray of glasses down on a table next to her. “He looked at me, you know? He saw me.”
Tilly stopped watching Nate arguing with the journalist, studying Liberty so intensely that Liberty felt herself blush.
“Sorry, I don’t know you, I don’t know what I mean by that,” Liberty said, flustered. She shook her head and gestured at the small crowd. “I’d better get back to this.”
Tilly opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by a shout from Nate. His voice made Liberty jump. She looked over to him and cursed herself that she’d missed what had happened. The journalist looked like the cat who’d got the cream and Liberty’s stomach turned. What had she not seen? Nate looked possessed, his neck was puce, his face was ghostly white and shimmering with sweat.
Everyone had fallen quiet, and in the stillness of the garden Liberty could still hear the wives cackling to
each other about something. Nate bulldozered over them all, not caring that they were now laughing at him. He was a man possessed.
Liberty couldn’t stand to see him so upset.
“You heard the man, get out,” she said, with no idea of where her assertiveness was coming from.
The wives looked at her like something their dog had spat up.
“How rude,” said the slightly blonder one. “I’m not being spoken to like that by a waitress. Reg, get me out of here.”
They pushed past Liberty, knocking her as they went. Flashes filled the garden as the journalists got their fill of road kill pictures that would no doubt have the newspapers flying off the shelves. Liberty tired her best to shield herself from their lenses, but they were well practiced at sneaking unflattering angles. Nate’s dad was on the move, his face warped by fury as he chased the reporters. He shot Liberty a look as he went, one that seemed to suggest this was all her fault. Tears pricked her eyes and she refused to blink until no-one could see them rolling down her cheeks.
It didn’t take long for the garden to empty. Only Tilly remained, and she was walking toward a slumped, broken figure who was squatting on the grass near the pathway that led to the beach. She stopped when she spotted Liberty walking the same way, nodding to her.
“You go,” Tilly said.
Liberty hesitated, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. The breeze whipped at her hair and stroked her cheeks, calming her enough for her to sit down on the grass next to Nate. He didn’t look up, he just seemed to retreat even further into himself. He had his head in his hands as he squatted and, although Liberty was feeling awful for how upset he seemed, she couldn’t help but notice the muscles bulging in his thighs as he kept his balance.
“My dad had a lot of sayings,” Liberty said, plucking at strands of grass. “Think outside the box was the one that got us where we are today. He stole that one from the book of well-known quotes. But you know what he used to say to me when things got me down? When I was sad about mom, or kids at school were picking on me?”
My Bereaved Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 2) Page 6