There was Liberty, looking as if she hadn't slept in days. She had William in her arms.
The sight of the two of them-it tore right through him. Because he'd spent the past two weeks allowing himself to think of a different life from the one he had. He'd pictured running in the morning with Liberty as they pushed the jogging stroller. And later, Saturdays at soccer parks and movies on the couch and silly songs and dancing around. Taking Liberty to bed at night and waking up with her in his arms in the morning.
He had everything he wanted, he told himself as he stared at that photo. He didn't need her. He didn't need kids. He absolutely did not need a big, happy family.
And what the hell was she talking about? He was Marcus Warren and that meant something. That's what his mother had said and she was right. She was...
Marcus froze, his heart suddenly pounding so hard he was afraid it would rip right out of his chest. His mother.
She and his father-they'd hired a private investigator who'd dug up enough dirt on his old nanny to put her and most of her family in jail.
She was very disappointed in him.
And suddenly, Liberty's past had appeared out of nowhere.
He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and, before he could think better of it, dialed his mother. "Marcus, darling," she cooed. "How are you? Are you all right? I've been so worried about you."
He didn't even have to ask the question-she'd already answered it. No one else knew that Liberty was gone.
But she knew. Of course she did. She-she and his father-had been behind the breakup.
There were, however, a few questions remaining. "How long have you known?"
There was an unnervingly long pause before Marisa Warren cleared her throat and said, "Known about what, darling?"
"About Liberty. About her past."
"Really, Marcus-you've got to be smarter about these things. Once you're settled down with the right kind of woman-"
"Answer the damned question, Mother. How long have you known about her?"
"Why, since you hired her, dear. You didn't really think I was going to let a nobody with no name and no family just ingratiate herself into your life without finding out something about her, did you?"
Why was he surprised? He shouldn't be. And he wasn't going to give his mother the satisfaction of thinking she'd one-upped him. "So let me get this straight-you dug up all the dirt you could find, or thought you could find-on my assistant and then sat on it for three years?"
His mother didn't reply.
Keeping his voice level was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction, dammit. "You've been waiting this whole time for the chance to use Liberty's past against her, haven't you? Not even against her. Against me. You sat on this information for three damned years because you knew you could use it to keep me in line, didn't you? Didn't you?"
So much for keeping his voice level. He didn't care. No one was around to hear him. He was completely alone because he'd fallen right into the trap without even realizing it had been set for him.
He'd done exactly what his mother wanted him to do. He'd pushed Liberty away.
"You're being ridiculous, Marcus. Think of what she could have cost you. And that baby? What were you think-"
He hung up. And when she called him right back, he turned his phone off.
Everything had a price and you either gained or you lost. That was the game he'd been raised to play. You gained favors and cashed them in when you needed them. Failure to do so meant you lost the game-you lost face, you lost business, you lost your name. Winners or losers, that's who made up the world, and Warrens were always winners. Always.
Except the game was a lie. He wasn't a player. He was a pawn. He was never supposed to win anything. He was nothing more than a favor to be accrued or cashed in. Everyone wanted something from him.
Except for Liberty. She hadn't asked him for anything. Not even a recommendation. And she would do anything for that baby. Including risking her job-and her heart.
If there's one thing life has taught me, it's that you have to save yourself. No one else is going to do it for you. That line from Liberty's note jumped out at him.
He hadn't thought he needed saving. He hadn't realized he had to fight for himself. He wasn't some helpless newborn. He had the ways and means to accomplish what he wanted.
But had he? Or had he just gone along with his parents to get by? He saw now what Liberty meant-what she'd always meant when she'd told him not to go to the wedding because he didn't want to, not to meet with the producers because he didn't want to.
All this time, she'd been telling him to fight for what he wanted.
He picked up her phone again and looked at the picture of Liberty and William. He loved her-he loved them both. What he'd wanted was a family. Liberty and William and more babies-one big happy family. His forever family.
He knew what he wanted.
Now he just had to fight for it.
No one was going to stand in his way this time.
Eighteen
"Ms. Reese? This is Trish Longmire of the One Child, One World charity."
"Hello," Liberty said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and fiddling with her new phone so that she could hear better. She had about two blocks to go before she got to Hazel's house. This was her third visit this week to feed and cuddle William.
She tried to think-had she applied at this organization? She'd sent out a lot of résumés, but she didn't recognize the name. The sun beat down on her head and she began to sweat. "How can I help you?"
"One Child provides basic school supplies to children living at or below the poverty line and grants to upgrade classroom technology at schools in need, primarily schools on reservations."
"A noble cause," Liberty said. Education had saved her from crushing poverty, after all. "But I have to ask-what does this have to do with me?"
"The Longmire Foundation has given us a considerable endowment and a mandate to get computers into classrooms."
The Longmire Foundation? That name she recognized-Nate Longmire was the Boy Billionaire of Silicon Valley who'd made headlines when he'd married a young woman no one had ever heard of from...
Oh, God. "I'm sorry-did you say Trish Longmire?"
Trish laughed. "Yes. We're expanding our efforts. I'd like to offer you the job of our urban outreach coordinator. You were highly recommended."
"But-who? I haven't applied for the job!" she said, her voice squeaking. Was this happening?
"Marcus Warren," Trish said, although Liberty should have guessed-who else could it be? "We need someone who's comfortable in both underprivileged classrooms, and organizing and attending fundraising events. I understand that you can personally attest to the value of a good education in changing your circumstances, but you've spent the last three years singlehandedly managing Warren Capital," Trish went on. "That makes you uniquely qualified."
"I-am?" Liberty cleared her throat. She needed to be making a better impression here. But she'd spent years-years-hiding her childhood. And this woman was telling her it was an asset? "I am, of course. Qualified, that is. I, um..." she babbled. "I'm sorry. This is quite unexpected."
"I understand. I'd like to fly you out to San Francisco next week so we can work out the details, if you're interested in the position."
"Of course. That would be-San Francisco. Yes!"
She and Trish exchanged emails, and then the call ended. Liberty sagged against the parking meter, staring at the screen of her new phone. What had just happened? Had Marcus really called up the wife of another billionaire and recommended Liberty? For a job? For which she was "uniquely qualified"?
She hadn't seen him since the blowup in the parking lot a week and a half ago. She hadn't heard from him, either-not so much as a peep. True, she hadn't exactly left her new number or anything but...
It was over. She'd kept the truth from him and he'd broken his promise to fight for her and that was that. That's all there could be.
Wasn't it?
On shaky legs, she managed to walk the rest of the way to Hazel's house. The shocks just kept right on coming, though, because Marcus's sleek Aston Martin was parked out front.
Oh, God. Marcus was here. Liberty was physically a hot mess-she'd sweat through the back of her tank top and her hair was frizzing. And Marcus was here. With William.
Oh, God.
But before she could bolt, the door swung open and there was Hazel, all big smiles. "Ah, Ms. Reese-Mr. Warren is waiting for you."