by K. A. Linde
“What?” Liz gasped.
“Would you prefer I disagree with you?”
“No. I just . . . was expecting you to.”
“You’re a liability. That much is very certain, Liz. I’ve stood by that from day one.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
“But . . .” she said, cutting Liz off. “He is happier.”
Liz beamed. She made Brady happier. She wasn’t sure Heather could have said anything that would have made her feel better in that moment.
“He’s not happier with me, mind you. And even I can objectively admit that your speeches are good. I read the draft you gave him of his acceptance speech for the primary.” Heather cut her eyes back to Liz. “It’s solid.”
“Thank you,” Liz said, a little shocked.
“The only problem with that is that you can’t fuck up now.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” she said stiffly.
“If you hurt him, if you break him, if you make him forget what is important, then you’ve ruined a brilliant and driven man. Just remember that.”
Well, it seemed the old Heather still existed.
“I’d never do that.”
“Intentionally. Now don’t do it unintentionally either. Prove to me that you’re not going anywhere,” she said before turning and walking to the event planner.
“How pleasant,” Liz muttered under her breath.
“Ready to go, baby?” Brady asked. He extended his arm and she placed her hand on his elbow.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
They walked through the double doors into the massive ballroom decorated in black and gold. A group of people waited at the entrance to greet them. And then came the almost endless number of pictures. Liz was introduced to person after person she was sure to never remember. Only a few faces were familiar from previous events, and even then she wasn’t sure she remembered all of their names.
Barbara, whom she had met at the Jefferson-Jackson gala, was there and hugged her as if they were old friends. Liz promised to find her later to talk about the education for underprivileged children that they had discussed earlier in the summer. Apparently Barbara had thought it a great idea and wanted to help. Liz was a bit floored by it, but Brady just whispered how important and charming Liz was and then they moved on.
Finally at the end of the entrance line was Brady’s family, with Clay noticeably absent. Marilyn gave her a firm hug. “You’re doing great,” she said discreetly, then pulled back to observe her for the cameras. “You look lovely, dear.”
“Thank you,” Liz said graciously.
Savannah was in a strapless gold number in a silky material that hung on her frame as if she were a runway model. They hugged and Liz realized how much she had missed her. They hadn’t been around each other much since Hilton Head. Liz had never had a chance to ask her about what had happened with Lucas, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit to having even witnessed it.
“We should hang out more,” Savannah said with a laugh.
“I know. I feel like we’ve been together but apart all summer.”
“Agreed.”
“Is Easton here?” Liz asked, glancing around.
“No. He went home for the summer after he left Hilton Head.”
“That sucks.” Or maybe it didn’t. Liz spotted Lucas standing near Chris and his girlfriend, Mollie.
Savannah followed her gaze and her face darkened. “Well . . . that doesn’t suck,” she said pointedly, nodding her head at Lucas.
Savannah sighed. “If you say so.”
Liz didn’t get to say anything more, because Brady touched her arm to motion her for another picture. Liz stood among his family as if she belonged there. The flash went off several times and then they were free of the first crowd. Now they had to mingle with the other guests for pictures.
After a seemingly endless number of people she didn’t know, though Brady somehow remembered every single person’s name, they found a familiar face.
“Chelsea,” Brady said in welcome. “You remember Liz?”
“Yes, of course. We met at the JJ gala,” Chelsea said. Her hair was tied in a stylish French twist and her makeup accented her almond-shaped eyes. She had on a stunning blue beaded halter gown.
“Nice to see you again,” Liz said politely. Liz wasn’t sure how happy she really was to see Chelsea. The woman had been aggravating Brady all summer about that damn environmental bill.
Just then Clay materialized at Chelsea’s side. “Hey, babe. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said, putting an arm around her waist.
Chelsea rolled her eyes as Liz herself had done a number of times. “Hello, Clay.”
Brady fumed at the sight of his brother. “Clay,” he said warningly.
Clay put his hands up as if he were innocent. “I was just talking to our old friend. I didn’t realize she was even going to be here. God, it’s been what, like two years, Chels?”
“I’m typically around during election time,” she said dismissively. “It’s kind of my job.”
“I bet,” Clay said with a wink.
“Picture?” the photographer asked, rearranging them so Brady was between Liz and Chelsea, and then snapped the photo.
Brady leaned forward toward Clay, but Liz could hear what he whispered to him in a dangerously low voice: “Try to stay out of trouble for once in your life.”
“High on my priority list,” Clay said sarcastically.
Liz placed her hand on Brady’s arm. “Just leave him.”
Brady nodded and walked away with her after he excused himself from Chelsea. “He is the only person who gets under my skin.”
“Other than me?” she joked.
“You’re different.”
“Just imagine what it’s like living in your shadow. He graduated from the best law school in the country and is clerking for the Supreme Court and you’re still the golden boy. That can’t be easy.”
“Why are you defending him?”
“Because you’re as blind to the good in Clay as he is to the good in you,” she told him plainly.
“If there was ever good in Clay, then he lost it a long time ago,” Brady said, as if he were unable to reconcile the image he’d had of his brother for so long with the one Liz was presenting.
“You should just give him a chance. You’re more alike than you realize, which is where I think some of the tension stems from.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“Well, you’re both stubborn,” she pointed out. He shot her a warning look. “This won’t be resolved tonight, but maybe you should consider resolving it in the future.”
He thought a moment before responding. “I’ll consider it.”
Well, that was as good as it was going to get.
They finished their circuit of the room and ended up where Lucas, Chris, and Mollie were standing. She and Mollie hugged as Chris and Brady shook hands. Liz watched Brady out of the corner of her eye. She knew he wouldn’t do anything tonight, but this was the first time they had seen Lucas since Hilton Head, and she knew Brady was still pissed about what had happened.
Champagne was passed out to the guests as Brady walked up to the stage to deliver his speech. Liz felt her phone buzz twice as she walked over to the podium to stand with Chris, Mollie, and Lucas. She wanted to pull it out, but felt as though she should be paying attention.
Brady tapped the microphone once and waited for his audience to become silent. The crowd hushed and Liz felt another buzz from her purse. God, so annoying.
“Hello and welcome!” Brady called into the microphone. “It’s my pleasure to be here tonight and have each and every one of you in this room supporting me. Winning my seat in the House of Representatives would not have been possible without you all in this building right now, and it won’t
be possible for me to remain there working for you if I don’t have your continued support.”
Liz felt her phone buzz at least three more times while Brady gave the opening to his speech. Jesus, someone must really need to get a hold of her. Maybe her parents were calling. Maybe it was an emergency.
With a sigh, she opened her clutch and saw Brady’s phone light up. She had completely forgotten it was in there when they had left. Her eyes scanned the first message to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.
I’d rather you were fucking me than giving this speech.
Chelsea. Liz’s stomach dropped out of her body. Her mouth went dry and she felt all the blood drain out of her face. She tried to swallow, but found she couldn’t. Her heart was racing in her chest as she stared at the message. Another one came in.
I miss Hilton Head. Ditch the girlfriend and take me instead.
Her hands shook and she was afraid that she might drop the phone. No. No way. This . . . this wasn’t even possible. She tried to rationalize. Brady wouldn’t do this to her. He loved her. She was his world. He’d said forever and always. Those were promises.
Make up an excuse and meet me in the back room. It’ll be worth it.
She couldn’t read any more. Liz dropped the phone back into her purse and tried to collect herself. Her breathing was heavy and she placed her hand on her chest. She needed to get out of there. She needed to clear her head and think and figure this out. She couldn’t keep listening to Brady’s speech, the speech she had helped him with, with Chelsea’s words in her head.
She stumbled sideways into Chris and he placed a hand on her arm. “Excuse me for a second,” she mumbled and then walked purposefully away from the stage. She could feel Brady’s eyes on her as she left, but she didn’t turn back to look for him.
She knew where the side exit was to the restroom. She had used it two years ago in this very room to meet with Brady about him bringing another woman to the gala. Was history repeating itself and now she was the other woman?
Liz heard footsteps behind her and just as she made it through the door, Chris caught up with her. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are you sick?”
“Sick,” she scoffed. “That’s one word for it.”
“Are you going to throw up? Do you need anything?” he asked, concerned.
“How long have you known, Chris?”
“Known what?”
“About Chelsea.”
Chris looked uncomfortable and scratched the back of his head. “I mean . . . like forever. They were on-again, off-again in college.”
“Since college,” she gasped. “Wait . . . environmental lobbyist.” Her head spun as the pieces all fit together. Brady had brought a date to the event he had held at Hilton Head two years ago when he had flown her down there and had said that it was an environmental lobbyist he had known since college. Chelsea fit the bill. Chelsea must have been that date. He had said that nothing was going on then, but that had clearly changed. “She went to Hilton Head with him.”
“Um . . . a couple times. Why?”
“Why?” she demanded. Liz pulled Brady’s phone out, lit up the screen, and handed it back to Chris. “I would think my boyfriend cheating on me would be reason enough.”
“What? Brady would never . . .” He trailed off when he started reading through the texts that were visible on the home screen.
“Tell me again what Brady would never do.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” Chris said.
“There’s always an explanation,” she said, shaking her head. “Take that back to Brady. I need to disappear for a little while.”
“Liz,” he said, grabbing her arm.
“What would you do if you saw those texts on Mollie’s phone?”
He sighed, seeing he was caught, and then released her. “I’ll take it to him, but he’s going to come after you.”
“Looking forward to it,” she said sarcastically, and then turned to walk down the hallway.
When Chris left, she paced, trying to clear her head. All it seemed to do was make things worse. Brady was irritable every time Chelsea messaged him. That was exactly how he had been with Liz. Brady had turned his phone off at Justin’s birthday party after Chelsea had texted him. He had done the same thing when Liz had been at Hilton Head. And it seemed as if he had been messaging with her all summer and she had been at events for him under the pretenses of working for EMi. Hadn’t Liz done the same thing as a reporter?
It all fit so closely together that she almost felt stupid for not having seen it for what it was sooner.
Chapter 25
ONE AND THE SAME THING
Liz heard the door open behind her. She sighed, resigned to speaking to Brady about this. She would rather hide out in the bathroom, but that wouldn’t help anything. Her emotions were running high, though. She wished she had more time to try to rationalize this before hashing it out.
Expecting Brady, Liz turned around and found Clay instead.
“Hey, sexy,” he said with that insufferable smirk.
“Do you need something, Clay?” She was already irritated, and Clay never seemed to help that.
“I just saw you dart off looking pale and sick.”
“And you decided to be nosy?”
“I decided to come check on you. Something happen with Brady? I saw you scrolling through your phone.”
“What, are you stalking me?” How was she always so transparent to Clay?
“I just know the signs. So what happened?”
“Like I’m going to give you more ammo to hate Brady.” She was defending him even now, when he had majorly fucked up.
“Do you have ammo? I thought he was perfect.”
“Oh. Ha-ha. You’re hilarious. I don’t need any of your shit tonight,” she said, turning away from him.
“Whoa. He must have really fucked up if you’re being a bitch to me.”
Liz spun around. “Do you walk around calling all women bitches? Or am I just lucky tonight?” She glared at him and crossed her arms. “Mind finding someone else to harass for a change? I don’t know why I defend you to him anyway.”
“I don’t need defending. I’m fine with everything exactly how it is. But you’re just picking a fight with me because you’re mad at him.”
She looked away from his probing gaze. He was right. She was mad at Brady. And Clay was just trying to make sure she was okay.
She looked back up at him and he gave her a small nod, as if he had read her mind. She sighed heavily. “What do you know about Chelsea?” Liz asked.
“Ah,” Clay said, his dimples showing.
“What does that mean?”
“You’d think that when he has someone like you and went through all the trouble to keep you . . . that he would let the past rest.”
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach at Clay’s words. This wasn’t encouraging. “Chris said they were together in college,” she offered.
“I’m sure he meant that they’ve been fucking since college,” Clay said casually, as if it didn’t make Liz feel as if she had been slapped across the face.
“No. I just . . . can’t believe he would do this,” she whispered.
His eyes roamed her face and he shook his head. “God, you’re so innocent. Do you think that you were the first he ever hid? You were the one he got caught with. He’s like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He would have eaten the cookies if he hadn’t got caught, but he never would have fessed up to it.”
“You’re such an ass,” she said hoarsely.
“I’m a realist, and I know my brother.”
“Just . . . leave me alone. I thought for a second you might be here for some semblance of comfort. Instead you just brought salt to rub in the wounds,” she said. Her hands were fisted at her sides. “Go back to your ar
ranged marriage and leave my life out of your scheming.”
“Fine. Just remember this feeling when he tries to change your mind,” Clay said with a shrug before turning to leave.
Liz really wished that she had something that she could throw at that moment. Clay’s departure only pissed her off more, and she wouldn’t have minded aiming something heavy at the back of his head.
She sagged with the weight of her anger. She couldn’t just stand here. Liz stormed around the corner to the bathroom that she and Brady had had a confrontation in two years ago. She had thought that she liked getting to redo so much of their relationship, but she didn’t want to ever relive this feeling.
Liz walked into the bathroom and bolted the door. She leaned forward heavily on the sink and blew out all the air in her lungs. Her face was pale, but her eyes didn’t hold the sick feeling that went through the rest of her body. Her eyes looked livid. And she realized that she wasn’t actually sad or disappointed or sick . . . she was pissed.
How could he do this to her? She had given up everything for him. She had given up the New York Times, the UNC paper, her credibility, her privacy. God, she had moved in with him and spent her whole summer on the campaign with him. She didn’t even know when he would find time for this, but then again, he had found time for her.
She wanted to think that she was jumping to conclusions, but Chris’s and Clay’s remarks made her think that she wasn’t. She was clearly losing her touch as a reporter if she couldn’t even put together the most in-your-face details like this.
A knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Occupied,” she called back even though she was pretty sure she knew who was on the other side.
“Liz, open the door,” Brady said brusquely.
Liz took a deep breath and then unlocked the door. Brady was inside the bathroom in a split second with the door closed, holding up his cell phone. “This is not what it looks like,” he said immediately.
“Really? It looks like Chelsea wants you to meet her in a back room, take her to Hilton Head, and fuck her. As far as I’ve gathered . . . those are all things you’ve done before,” she said coldly.