Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(6)

“You’ll get over it. So.” Liberty lit a cigarette and blew the smoke up and away from Natalie. “What did you think? I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I am too,” Natalie said. “I thought it was amazing. You’re so gifted, Lib.”

Liberty beamed. “Thank you, love.” She turned to Marshall. “Well?”

“Pure magic, darling.”

“Thank you, my sweet,” she replied. “Wait ‘til you see my finale.”

“Well, don’t knock’em dead until I get back from the little boys’ room,” Marshall said, rising to his feet. “And if you see the waitress, tell her I want another G-and-T, like yesterday.”

“Yes, dear,” Liberty said.

“Sapphire,” Marshall said. “None of that shelf shit.”

“Such a diva.” Liberty’s gaze followed him as he wended his way gracefully between the tables. She exhaled twin plumes of smoke from her nose.

Natalie gave her friend a knowing look. “Liberty…”

“Yes, yes, I’m pathetic, I know.”

“But he’s so…” Natalie waved her hands, at a loss.

“I know, right? It doesn’t make any sense. Every time he opens his mouth and something affected pops out, it’s like he’s broadcasting how unavailable he is.” Liberty dropped her cigarette into Marshall’s depleted cocktail glass. It hissed as it struck an ice cube. “But can you blame me? He’s tall, gorgeous, smart, funny. He practically lives at the gym and he makes a ton of money.” She made a sour face. “I’m not in love with Marshall; I just want a man exactly like him.”

Natalie smiled at her friend. “You could probably find someone who fits that criteria if you didn’t go out with Marshall every night.”

Liberty snorted. “This from the woman who hasn’t been laid since…I don’t even know when. Ever?”

“Yes,” Natalie said, her cheeks burning. “Once. I told you about him.”

“Oh yeah,” Liberty said. “The blond nobody you boned on your trek up here.”

What Liberty called her trek, Natalie called her escape; a migration north from San Diego after her parents’ death. The young man she’d met in Santa Barbara smelled of beach sand and suntan lotion, but had been sweet and considerate. Not her romantic ideal, but then who could be? Marshall and Liberty assured her she would meet someone if she just made an effort, but she knew better. She joined them at bars and clubs for the sake of friendship, not to flirt tipsily with strangers, hoping to find a diamond in the rough with a poet’s heart. The odds of that happening, she thought, were slim to none. The characters in her books were better company.

Natalie cast her gaze to her drink.

“Oh, honey, I’m teasing you.” Liberty drained her own cocktail and contemplated the ice cubes that remained. “You’re in love with men who exist only in books, and I’m in love with a man who exists in my mind. We’re equally pathetic.”

Natalie was inclined to protest but Liberty had practically voiced her own thoughts out loud. And she couldn’t chastise Liberty too much over Marshall anyway. Liberty’s last boyfriend had been “a little too rough around the edges” and that was all she was willing to say about him—all that she would allow anyone to say about him without biting their head off. Marshall was sweet. Kind-hearted. A gentleman.

He’s safe, Natalie thought, watching Marshall return. And that’s what Liberty needs right now. She was careful not to let her concern for her friend show on her face or Liberty would never forgive her.

Another round was ordered, another cigarette lit, and then Marshall turned to Natalie.

“Now, promise you won’t freak out. Since I’ll be at one of those atrocious conventions in Vegas on your birthday…” He reached under the table and pulled out a rectangular gift impeccably wrapped in red paper and tied with a purple ribbon.

“Oh, Marshall,” Natalie breathed. “That’s not what I think it is…”

“It’s exactly what you think it is.”

Natalie unwrapped the book. The hardcover was made of rough beige fabric, almost like burlap, with the word Coronation etched in black ink. Below that, a crown of straw in the same shaggy black strokes, and then the name Rafael Melendez Mendón.

“What is it?” Liberty peered over and read the cover. “Oh, gawd. Look at you two: a junkie and her dealer.”

“Oh my god!” Natalie threw her arms around his neck, nearly upsetting their table. “How did you get it so early? It’s not due for another three weeks!” She sat back, admiring her gift, her fingers itching to open it.

Marshall polished his nails on his lapel. “I have my ways. And a friend who owns a bookstore on Market who gets advance copies. He owed me a favor.”

“Oh, Marshall.” Natalie laid her hand over her heart. “It’s perfect.”

Liberty snorted. “You haven’t even read it yet. How can it be perfect?”

“Because Rafael Mendón wrote it,” Natalie said. “Of course it’s going to be perfect.”

“Is this the guy who no one knows who he is?” Liberty took the book and flipped to the back page, looking for an author photo. Natalie tensed, watching the proximity of Liberty’s cigarette ash to the pristine pages. “He’s the recluse that you’re so in love with, right?”