For the Record (Record #3)

by K. A. Linde

  It was nearly poll close when Brady and Liz retreated to headquarters to wait out the reports. Liz was exceptionally quiet and lost in thought as information came back to them from the field confirming his victory or loss of a particular precinct.

  “So . . . where do we stand?” Liz finally asked. He realized that she looked nervous.

  “We’re down,” he told her. He had seen the look in Alex’s eyes without even tallying what had come in.

  “It’ll be a toss-up,” Alex corrected. “It’ll come down to the wire again. Hopefully we have the votes. You two should get ready for the party tonight.”

  Brady nodded and Liz just chewed on her bottom lip. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

  She turned her head from him and seemed lost in thought. “If you lose, it’s my fault,” she whispered.

  “Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked with a laugh. He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “If I lose, it’s because the people of North Carolina in the Fourth District didn’t want me to represent them. That’s the only reason. Nothing you or I could do would change that. All right?”

  “But . . .”

  “No. I’m not going to let you take the blame. If I lose, it’s on me,” he told her earnestly. “But I haven’t lost yet.”

  “I know. But . . .”

  “Let’s wait until the final results are tallied and then start talking blame.”

  “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess I’m just worried.”

  His hand brushed back into her hair and then he kissed away every worry in her head. She had become his rock, his strength. He could give her some of what she always gave him when he got stressed out.

  When he pulled back, she was unsteady on her feet, her lips slightly swollen, and a blush crept onto her face. “How do you do that?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Make me lose myself so completely with you.”

  “Only giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

  She smiled up at him and he was lost all over again. He wasn’t sure how he had ever thought that he could live without that smile. He knew that tonight was a big night for them. They had come out to the public about their relationship in February, knowing the consequences that might await him in November. Tonight they would find out if those consequences materialized.

  Brady changed into a fresh black suit and knotted a navy tie with tiny red-and-white polka dots around his neck. He hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to be more nervous about getting the results in the second time he ran for Congress than the first. He had been in such an overwhelming state of depression when he had won two years ago that even though he had been nervous, his thoughts had automatically turned toward Liz. Wondering if he should have gone after her, wondering what she was doing, wondering if he had made the right decision.

  Now he was on the precipice at the end of his first term, and similar questions plagued him. He was glad he had finally gone after her, and he knew that he had made the right decision. He just hoped that hadn’t cost him his job. Not that he would change a damn thing if he could do it over. She was worth it all.

  Liz appeared in the entryway in a knee-length purple pleated dress he’d ordered for her from New York, and her Jimmy Choos. Around her neck hung the necklace he had gotten her so long ago. Diamond drops in her ears and a massive diamond ring on her finger told that she was all his. She would always be his.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, her nerves from earlier already dissipated. She looked like strength, wearing what she called his campaign mask as if she had invented it.

  He had always said that politics was a perfect balance of openness and restraint. It was what he loved so much about Liz. She had restraint in spades, but when she let go, it shook his world. She did everything with such unbridled tenacity, and went after the things she wanted headfirst, with a self-assurance that he had seen in few people.

  “Very,” he replied.

  “We should go. Everyone is probably waiting.”

  “I’m so honored to have you at my side,” he told her.

  “Honored?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” he said, closing the distance between them. “It’s an honor to have you there with me.”

  “Well . . . I’m honored to be there.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about how we started.” He fingered the necklace dangling between her breasts. She narrowed her eyes. “I know that it wasn’t the best of scenarios, but it brought you into my life. We might be unconventional, but who needs convention? I fell in love with you. You stole me away, and I’m glad that you didn’t give me back.”

  “Never,” she insisted.

  “Good. Now let’s go win an election.” He kissed her lips and then they exited the house together.

  A town car drove them to the grand hotel downtown, where Brady’s election party would be in full swing in one of their massive ballrooms. His friends and family were congregated in a small reception room, where they would receive the news. Everyone he cared about was in attendance, just the way it had always been. Liz had even included Victoria and Daniel in the festivities. Chris was there with his family. Brady kept a close eye on Lucas, whom he still didn’t trust near his sister. Luckily, Savannah had brought her boyfriend, Easton. The guy seemed all right. Had a good head on his shoulders.

  His mother and father greeted them when they walked into the room. His father wouldn’t be up for reelection until next term, and it was nice to have his constant presence here for him during the hardest two elections of Brady’s career.

  Heather and Elliott appeared next, as serious and reserved as ever. But he knew them well enough to know that they were nervous but excited. They wanted him to win. They had staked their careers on it. They were two of his closest friends.

  In just a few minutes he would find out if it had all been worth it.

  Liz wandered off to talk to Victoria and Savannah. They fawned over her dress and giggled about nonsensical things. He was glad they were there for her. He knew that she was as stressed and nervous about the outcome as he was.

  Heather looked as though she wanted to say something, but he just smiled. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  She nodded and returned to her conversation with Elliott. There was something he probably should have done a long time ago, but the election had gotten in the way.

  He approached his brother, who was sitting there seemingly bored by whatever his girlfriend was going on about. Clay turned his gaze to meet Brady’s and his brother scowled.

  “Andrea, do you think you could give us a minute?” Brady asked.

  “Uh . . . sure. Whatever,” she said, grabbing her cocktail and walking away.

  “Did you need something?” Clay asked. He already looked bored again.

  Brady stuck his hand out. “I wanted to thank you for helping me.”

  Clay stared down at his outstretched hand as if it might attack him. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “No. Thank you for your time and especially for what you did for Liz. I really appreciate it.”

  Clay tentatively put his hand into Brady’s and they shook. “Well, she needed the help.”

  “I know. Usually she doesn’t.”

  “That’s the truth,” Clay agreed.

  They dropped their hands and Clay stood awkwardly, as if he was waiting for Brady to lay into him for something.

  “You know, this morning I was thinking about when we were younger and how Election Day used to be like Christmas.”

  “Are we going to go into one of your stories?” Clay jeered.

  Brady ignored him. It was just Clay’s usual sidestep. “We’d wake up early and go to the polls with our parents even before Savannah was born. We’d get ice cr
eam at the victory after-party. As we got older something changed between us. I know it might not be salvageable, but hope that one day we can change that.”

  Clay stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Brady thought that he might laugh in his face and tell him to fuck off. Typical Clay. But after a minute he nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

  They shook hands again, and a bond that Brady hadn’t felt since they were kids flowed between them. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he had missed Clay.

  He turned to return to Liz’s side. “What was that about?” she asked. She never missed a thing.

  “Making amends like I should have done years ago.”

  A bright smile broke out onto her face, and she was about to say something when the doors to the reception room opened. Everyone turned to face the front as Alex walked inside. His nose was buried in his iPad like always.

  When he looked back up at his audience, Brady felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room in anticipation. Then Alex’s eyes sought his in the crowd and he smiled. “Congratulations, Congressman! You’re in for another term.”

  Brady scooped Liz into his arms and swung her around as a cheer rose up from the room. Everyone was hugging, applauding, and cheering his victory. He had done it. Against all odds, he had won a second term.

  “Congratulations,” Liz whispered into his ear. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’m on top of the world,” he admitted. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’m on the top of the world with you.”

  “Every day for the rest of our lives.”

  Epilogue

  TWELVE YEARS LATER

  Jefferson, if you do not stop tormenting your sister I won’t let you have ice cream after the conference,” Liz snapped at her nine-year-old son. He was the spitting image of his father, but had the devilish tendencies of his uncle.

  “I wasn’t doing anything,” he said. He put his hands behind his suit as if he were innocent.

  Liz bent down and wiped the tears from her daughter’s face. “It’s all right, Jacqueline. Jefferson will apologize. He didn’t mean it.”

  “He did mean it! He hates me,” the five-year-old girl cried dramatically. Her blond hair fell in curls past her shoulders and seemed to be perpetually knotted, but her big blue eyes kept Brady wrapped around her little finger.

  “He doesn’t hate you. Do you?” Liz asked. She looked warningly at her son. “Jefferson?”

  “I don’t hate you, Jackie,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

  Well, that would have to do.

  “All better?” she asked her daughter.

  She sniffled twice and then nodded. “Do I still get ice cream?”

  “Yes. Of course you do. Now, are you ready to join your father? It’s a big day,” Liz said with a bright smile for both of them.

  Liz straightened and ran her hands down the front of her cream-and-navy dress. Her hair was twisted back into a conservative bun. She took a deep breath and then urged the kids forward. Big day indeed.

  “Jeff, will you hold my hand?” Jacqueline asked, widening her blue eyes.

  “Girls are gross.”

  “I’m a sister, though.”

  Liz was about to intervene, but Jefferson sighed and stretched his hand out. “Fine.”

  They walked hand in hand into the conference center. Staff were milling around with their heads buried in computers, signaling to one another, and otherwise looking frantic. A representative ushered them across the room. Liz’s eyes locked with Heather’s when she spotted her and she smiled.

  Heather shuffled through the crowd with ease and dismissed the other representative with a flick of her wrist. “Liz, so glad you’re here.” She bent down, ruffled Jefferson’s hair, and gave little Jacqueline a quick hug.

  “How is he?” Liz asked.

  “Oh, you know. The same,” Heather said with a shrug. “Excited to see you and the kids.”

  “We would have been here sooner, but I had that symposium,” Liz told her, which wasn’t really necessary since Heather knew Liz’s schedule as well as Brady’s by now. She had graduated with her doctorate from the University of Maryland and accepted a position in the Journalism School at UNC Chapel Hill. She had spent the last seven years working with her mentor, Professor Mires, at the university.

  “Of course. Well, he’s waiting for you,” she said and then started leading Liz back to Brady’s room.

  Heather knocked twice and then entered. “I brought you something.”

  Brady’s head popped up from the cards he was reading and he broke out into a smile. “Nothing better in the world.”

  “Daddy!” the kids screamed, launching themselves across the room.

  Brady hoisted them into his arms and planted firm kisses on both of their cheeks. “I’ve missed you two like crazy.”

  “We missed you too,” Jefferson said.

  “Yeah, Daddy,” Jacqueline said. “Mom promised us ice cream, though.”

  Brady glanced up at Liz and her body melted at the sight. He arched an eyebrow. “Bribes, baby?”

  “Ice cream is tradition. You know that.”

  “Of course. What flavor do you want?” Brady placed Jefferson on his feet and planted Jacqueline in his lap. “Huh, pretty girl?”

  “Chocolate!” she cried.

  “Chocolate it is!” Brady said. “Jefferson?”

  “Cookie dough.”

  “My favorite,” Liz said, walking up behind him and straightening out his hair back in place.

  Liz’s and Brady’s eyes met, and she felt herself relax all over again. The past twelve years had been good to them. Though their two beautiful children, Brady Jefferson IV and Jacqueline Marilyn, would always be their greatest accomplishment in life, they had so much to be thankful for. Brady had spent two more terms in the House of Representatives before serving two four-year terms as governor of North Carolina. The commute between Chapel Hill and Raleigh had been much easier on them than to and from D.C.

  “How long will we have after this?” she asked him while the kids debated ice cream flavor choices.

  “I negotiated the rest of the week. I thought we could take the kids to the lake house.”

  “They’d like that.”

  “Should we bring a babysitter?” he asked with a wink.

  She laughed softly. “Might not be a bad idea, knowing you.”

  “And I’m the only one?”

  She couldn’t keep a coy smile from her face. “Of course not.”

  “I love you,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her lips.

  “I love you too.” She reached out and straightened his blue tie. “You’re going to be wonderful.”

  “With you at my side.”

  Heather walked back into the room at that moment. “Brady, it’s time.”

  “Come on, kids,” Liz said, ushering them behind their father.

  They reached the entrance to the stage and Liz saw the massive crowd that had come out that day to hear Brady speak. Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to push them down. This was a happy day. They had been looking forward to this for a long time.

  Liz already knew the drill after so many years of being a politician’s wife. Press conferences and rallies had become second nature. She felt the time approaching and gave Brady a big hug.

  “Wish me luck,” he whispered.

  “You don’t need it.”

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I know. I’m so proud of you,” she said, laughing lightly. “I’ll always be your airplane.”

  He kissed her cheek. “That’s right. Airplanes, baby.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and then pulled back from her husband. She gave him an encouraging smile and then she heard it.

/>   “Governor Brady Maxwell!”

  The crowd roared all around them and Brady stepped out onto the stage. Liz followed close behind with the kids holding her hands. They stood on the stage to the left of Brady, who immediately launched into his prepared speech.

  Liz let her eyes drift over the crowd. It was filled to the brim. She would never get tired of the cheers that ran through the crowd. Max-well. Max-well. Max-well. It was a chant that never failed to bring a smile to her face. A chant that she had once associated with her husband’s success now she associated with their success. She was a Maxwell too, after all.

  Brady was coming to the close of his speech and he gestured to her. She smiled and walked forward with the kids. Brady took her hand in his and smiled down at their children.

  A lifetime of politics leading up to this one moment.

  Brady’s strong voice carried through the speakers. Liz sighed when she finally heard him utter the words she had been waiting for since she had met him all those years ago.

  “I am Governor Brady Maxwell, and I’m running for President of the United States.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  From the beginning, I’ve thought about these books as three parts—Part I, the Campaign, Part II, Postcampaign, and Part III, Reelection. As a campaign worker myself, I’ve experienced all three of these parts of life and tried to interject the feelings inherent in each of these sections into the books. The Campaign is a whirlwind of energy and excitement. Postcampaign elicits what we jokingly refer to as PCSD, Postcampaign Stress Disorder. After living for months with one objective in mind, you find yourself lost, stressed, and inactive. Reelection comes around and you get the itch to go back and work on a campaign, to feel that vibe all over again.

  In a way, I feel as if this encompasses Brady and Liz’s relationship in the same way that it is significant to someone who works on campaign. So, I must thank all the people who kept me alive to live through all three parts of this experience, and to inevitably use those experiences to write the Record series. Thank you—Meera, Gregg, Alex, Hannah, Daniel, Kiran, Susan, and so many more!

  Without a number of people in the industry this book would have never existed. I’d like to thank my agent, Jane Dystel, for finding me a happy home with Montlake Romance, and my editor, JoVon Sotak, for believing in the story and working with me.