by K. A. Linde
“I wish we could get one question in, though. I'd love to peg him down about education policy,” he said.
Liz nodded. After researching Senator Maxwell's policy platform, she'd had difficulty narrowing her questions to the ten on education policy she had listed in her purse. He was a hard-core budget guy, just like his father, who was a sitting United States Senator. State Senator Maxwell had won his last two elections based on his broad, sweeping plan to balance the budget, and then he had done it. For the first time in twenty-five years, North Carolina's fiscal books were in order.
Not that she disagreed with the end result, but she wasn't sure how much she agreed with his approach to the matter: cutting anything and everything that might be deemed superfluous-and one of those items happened to be education. Her father was a professor at the University of South Florida in Tampa, and Liz couldn't imagine what it would be like to see all of his hard work slashed by a politician just out to line his pockets. Maxwell put business first and everything else after: Encourage small business, lower taxes, help the working class, but Liz didn't understand how he expected to help the working class when they couldn't even get an education.
“Lane! Lane?” a perky redhead called. She pushed past another reporter and all but attacked Hayden.
“Calleigh,” Hayden muttered, hugging her back. “So good to see you. How's Charlotte treating you?”
“Amazing, of course. You should come and visit me. I could get you an interview,” she said. She swished her red hair across one shoulder and smiled at Hayden like he was dessert.
“I might take you up on that when I graduate,” he said. “Have you met our new reporter, Liz Dougherty?”
Calleigh seemed to finally notice that someone was standing next to Hayden. “Oh, hi,” she said. “Are you taking over Camille's old job?”
“Uh . . . yeah. I've been mostly in editorials before this,” Liz explained.
Calleigh Hollingsworth was a legend at the university newspaper. She single-handedly put the paper on the map last year by interviewing the President of the United States and busting up a sex scandal in the higher tiers of the school administration. Her byline had graced the front page of the university paper daily, and everyone at school knew her name. She had been offered a job at a New York newspaper, but had turned it down for Charlotte. No one knew why, but she was either crazy or a genius. Liz had only seen her in passing, and she was awestruck to be standing in the presence of someone with such fame.
“Well, I hope you do her some justice. I know Lane wouldn't choose someone incompetent. Good luck on the job,” she said, turning back to Hayden. “Lane, drinks before you leave, doll. This is not a request.”
And with that she traipsed across the room. Male eyes from all around followed her as she whisked past them and out of sight.
“That was Calleigh Hollingsworth,” Liz said plainly.
“Yeah,” he grumbled. “And I have to entertain her highness.”
Liz giggled. “Do you not like her?”
Hayden shrugged. “She's good at her job, but so annoying. After she got that interview with the President, fame went straight to her head. She acts like everyone should treat her like a queen now.”
“She kind of is a queen.”
“And that's exactly why she acts like it!”
Liz didn't know Calleigh well enough to comment.
A hush fell over the crowd as a tall, leggy blonde walked onto the stage. A series of flashes went off as the reporters adjusted their camera settings, anxious not to miss anything that was about to happen.
“Was it leaked as to what he's speaking about?” Liz whispered into Hayden's ear.
He shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes or camera from the stage. “I haven't heard anything. I just got the buzz about it yesterday morning. Impromptu.”
“Strange,” Liz said. She watched the blonde's heels as she walked across the carpeted floor.
She was beautiful, almost unnaturally so, definitely unfairly so. Liz was happy to be on the shorter side most days, but not when that woman was onstage. And Liz had always thought she was above average in the looks department, with naturally straight blond hair that the sun highlighted in the summer, and blue eyes. She loved her pouty lips and high cheekbones, but her athletic build was far from that of the skinny minny standing onstage.
“Thank y'all for coming out at such short notice,” the woman said, smiling at the crowd of cameras. “I'm Heather Ferrington, Senator Maxwell's press secretary. He is only available for a short while, but he will be taking questions at the end. Please keep them to a minimum. The Senator will be out in a minute.”
As Heather walked offstage, all the reporters began speaking at once. The idea of actually getting an answer out of the State Senator was a real treat. His father had always kept the family rather tight-lipped. Speculation circulated that it was because they had secrets to hide, but with thirty years of service in public office the Senator had a clean slate. They were a model family, and no one was surprised when Brady Maxwell III followed in his father's footsteps. It was a logical step for him.
“What are the chances we get a question in?” Liz asked. She edged forward in the crowd as it moved inward in anticipation.
“Zero,” Hayden murmured, resting his hand on her hip so as not to lose her as the crowd heaved forward. Liz felt her side warm at his touch and tried to keep from purposely leaning into him. “Try to see if you can get a little closer anyway.” He urged her forward.
Liz followed his lead and nudged her way deeper into the cloud of reporters. One woman gave her a withering glare as she pushed past her, but Liz paid her no mind. Once she reached the best position she could stand in, she stopped and waited for the Senator to come out.
Besides his work in cutting money for education, he had blocked NC Pledge, a piece of legislation that would make it easier for college students who maintained a certain GPA to afford a degree. She knew that he was pushing these measures to balance the budget, but it came at the expense of the most important thing anyone could ever offer. Senator Maxwell had received a great education at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, because his parents could afford it and he happened to be an exemplary basketball player, but not everyone else had those benefits. Tuition hikes after his budget cuts only exacerbated the problem.
And she hadn't heard a sufficient answer as to why he had allowed the cuts to education funding, even encouraged this to happen. The only reasonable explanation she could consider was that he had kept certain measures in the budget that his big-time donors benefited from and had cut education to make up for it. This led her to believe that the only thing he truly cared about, as a politician, was the money coming his way . . . just like most other politicians.
Senator Maxwell walked onstage, and Liz's mind went blank.
She had seen a picture of him. Dozens, in fact. Probably more than that. What kind of reporter would she be if she hadn't?
She knew he was young. It was hugely controversial in his previous state elections that he had beaten two incumbent representatives at such a young age. But attractive? No, not attractive-gorgeous . . . breathtaking . . . delicious. She tried to stop her brain from continuing, but damn, pictures did not do him justice.
She wasn't certain why, but the ease of his stride stood out to her. He carried himself confidently in a damn sexy black three-piece suit. He had the air of someone who didn't have to take what he wanted, but was instead handed it on a silver platter. His dark hair was cropped short and spiked in the front, and his intense brown eyes surveyed the crowded room as if he were here to accept an award. He smiled at the reporters waiting for the inevitable photo op and adjusted his red, white, and blue tie knotted at the top of his crisp white button-down. He was freshly shaven, accentuating his chiseled cheekbones and strong jawline, and ever-looked the part of the young State Senator he was.
As bulbs flashed in all directions, Liz stared up at the Senator, rooted in place. No wond
er he had won election over previous incumbents. He could just walk into a room and win a crowd. It helped that his name was recognizable, considering he shared the same one with his father, but he didn't need any help winning when he had that body and charm. She wondered if the demographics on the election were 95 percent women. She would believe it.
“Thank you all so much for coming out here for this last-minute press conference,” Senator Maxwell spoke powerfully into the microphone. His voice was like an addiction-pulling you in, making you crave more, making you feel as if you could never get enough.
“Liz, are you getting this?” Hayden asked, brushing against her shoulder and jarring her out of her daydreams.
“Yeah, sorry,” she murmured. She fiddled with the recorder until the red button blinked, and tried to reorient herself.
“I know you are all wondering why I decided to come before you, here in Wake County, on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He leaned forward against the podium. “Let me tell you a story first . . .”
Liz felt the crowd draw closer to him, as if each person were practically hanging on the edge of their seat to hear him speak for just a second longer.
“I grew up here in the Triangle. My mom worked as a professor at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. My father, as you well know, sat as a United States Congressman for many years and now serves you all as a Senator. I know the people here, because I went to school here, I played ball here, I met my first girlfriend here. I saw my friends go off to college and leave town just like many of you did. And I saw friendships fade with distance. My own best friend, Chris, moved to New York City, and I miss him every day.” The crowd sighed with him at the loss of a friend. “When I thought about leaving, going off to the big city, making a name for myself-all it sounded like was leaving all the people I loved behind. So I decided to cut that out of my plans and focus on what I had always loved-and that was the people of North Carolina.”
Liz hadn't even realized that a huge smile was plastered on her face as she listened to his engaging voice. She dropped her smile immediately, not wanting to get taken in by someone she disagreed with, and held the recorder out farther.
“I knew after living here my entire life that there was too much to do to leave my community for someone else's. That was Chris's plan, not mine. And I'm glad I stayed, because if I had left, I wouldn't have been here when my mom found out that she had breast cancer, or to see my brother and sister choose a college, or my dog eat an entire steak while we weren't looking one night.” The crowd burst into laughter and glanced around the room at one another before focusing back in on the Senator.
“I want to take that same enthusiasm for my community and fight for what you believe in. That is why as of today, I am announcing my intention to run for the United States House of Representatives in my home district.”
Liz's mouth dropped open and the crowd of reporters clambered forward, each trying to be the first to ask the Senator a question. She had been expecting a conference on a bill that had recently passed, North Carolina taxes, or really anything but this. It was practically unheard-of for a one-term State Senator to run for the House. They usually bided their time and waited to gain status and recognition, climbing the ranks before throwing their hat into the race. Brady had his dad's name and reputation to go off of, but would it be enough?
For some reason, even though she disagreed with him on some issues that were key to her, she could see Brady pulling it off. There was something about him that fired up a crowd and lit up a room. He had been all but bred for this moment, but you couldn't fake that charm and ease before the cameras. She knew firsthand, because she turned into a blabbering idiot with a camera in her face. She was already beyond ready to see how this election would play out.
A barrage of questions was thrown at the Senator as he smiled radiantly at the sea of flashing bulbs. Liz moved with them, excitement coursing through her body for the upcoming Q&A.
“Thank you for your enthusiasm. I'm ready to get started here in North Carolina. I'd be happy to take a few questions, though I don't have much time,” he said, eyeing the line of microphones.
“Senator Maxwell!” A few reporters called. They threw their hands in the air as more raised their recorders and volleyed for his attention.
“How about Mr. Tanner,” Senator Maxwell said. He pointed out a short, balding man with a Raleigh News badge on his shirt.
“Senator Maxwell, you've had tremendous luck in your previous elections. What prompted this decision when you've barely won the last two elections?”
“Barely won is still winning, George,” Senator Maxwell said with a smirk. “But on a more serious note-I chose this race not for me, but for the people of North Carolina. I'm not running with any selfish motivation. I know what is needed to help the people here succeed and what they need in their daily lives. This is a fight worth fighting, and I intend to give it my all.”
“Senator, can you give us insight into how you plan on beating the incumbent representative?” a tall librarian-type butted in.
“We haven't talked strategy just yet, Sheila, but I think North Carolina can do better than what he's offering, and I'm the man for the job,” he spoke confidently.
A commanding man in a faded button-down with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows chimed in next. “Senator Maxwell, your past opponents have already brought up the fact that your youth contributes to the image of your inexperience. What do you have to say to that?”
The Senator chuckled softly into the microphone before looking back up at the crowd of reporters. “I'm twenty-seven, ladies and gentlemen. The Constitution of the United States says that a member of the House of Representatives must be at least twenty-five years old. If the Founders of our great country believed that a twenty-five-year-old could get the job done, why don't my opponents?”
“But don't you think it will be a hindrance to your campaign?” someone shouted over the crowd.
The Senator shook his head. He had clearly been prepped for this question. “Not at all. I know North Carolina. I've seen my own father work for the people and my mother work for the people and now I want to. How about we take one more,” he said, cutting off the reporter and staring out at the crowd.
Liz shot her hand up in the air, pushing past another reporter in her haste. She wanted this question. She wanted to prove herself to Hayden and to herself.
“You there.” Brady pointed into the audience. “An unfamiliar face with a familiar logo. I'd be happy to take a question from my alma mater. It's good to see them in the house.”
Oh my God. Liz stared up at Senator Maxwell and saw that he was pointing right at her.
“Uh,” she hesitated on her beginning. Why was she blanking on the questions she had planned to ask him? She had practiced for hours, and now standing there with the opportunity she was losing it all.
She locked eyes with Brady across the room and felt the heat of his gaze run through her body. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. She needed to get it together. She was a reporter, after all, and this was her job. He was handsome, but just a job.
Liz straightened considerably and met Brady's gaze head-on. She wouldn't back down from a challenge. “Senator Maxwell, during your time in Raleigh you consistently voted to cut education funding in the name of balancing the budget. Yet you've also voted to allow some of your biggest donors to avoid paying corporate taxes on their various business ventures. Can you please comment on how this helps better the lives of all North Carolinians, which you've repeatedly stated is your primary reason for entering this race?”
Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath waiting for his response. Questions from the college newspapers were typically light and fluffy. Politicians chose them because it looked good on paper to include them. College reporters weren't supposed to ask a question that hit that close to home.
Liz could feel eyes judging and assessing her from all sides.
Had she really thrown his e
ntire speech back in his face? Staring into those eyes, she felt a jolt of electricity course through her body. It was as if they were the only two people in the room in that moment. She held that gaze like a pro and watched as he changed his appraisal of her.
“That's an excellent question. It was painful for me to have to do that knowing how closely linked I am to higher education, but other aspects of the bill were unacceptable to me. I couldn't fully support the bill with those parts still in it,” he stated.
Liz narrowed her eyes as he stealthily evaded her question, not even touching on the tax cut component. He really was a natural.
“Thank y'all for coming out and I'm sure I will see y'all again on the campaign trail.”
He waved at the reporters, ending the press conference. Several people shouted at him for one more, but he never stopped his purposeful stride offstage.
Liz couldn't believe that had just happened. She had asked a hard-hitting question at her first press conference and alienated a sitting politician. She thought she might throw up any second.
Hayden reached forward and turned the Record button off. “Fucking amazing, Liz,” he cried. He threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. She folded into his chest. Any other day she might have reveled in the embrace, but she couldn't get the image of Brady Maxwell III's eyes out of her head.
“Did you see his face?” Hayden asked. “You stumped him. He didn't see that question coming at all. This is going to be an incredible article.”
Liz smiled weakly, and tried to push down the rising taste of bile in her throat.
“Liz, are you going to be okay?” Hayden asked, holding her arms and looking into her blue eyes. “You look kind of sick.”
“I feel a little sick,” she admitted.
“Well, you have no reason to. Calm down. That was great. I'm so glad you came with me!” He released her and slung his messenger bag on his shoulder.
They got halfway across the room when Calleigh Hollingsworth headed them off. “What a question!” she said. “I knew Lane would pick the right person. I never saw Camille stump a politician.”