On the Record

by K. A. Linde

  “Sure,” Liz said softly.

  “Anyway, once I told her what happened with Lucas, she started telling me how I was like a bad person for kissing him and that if he really liked me then he wouldn’t string me along and all this. Which, okay . . . she’s right. Fine. It’s not exactly what she said, but how she said it. In this holier-than-thou voice with her finger sticking out and scolding me. And she has treated me like that every time I’ve seen her since. When I’m around her, I swear I’m about to go crazy.”

  Liz nodded, her mind drifting off. She felt bad for Savannah having to deal with someone like that. And she really wanted to think that it didn’t matter that Savannah didn’t like Brady’s girlfriend.

  But it made her smile devilishly anyway.

  Chapter 15

  DROPPING THE BALL

  Liz landed back in the Raleigh airport after three days spent in New York City working with Nancy at the New York Times over fall break. She had never worked so hard, but also had never had a better experience in journalism. Nancy had a knack for utilizing people’s strengths, and Liz had been knee-deep in the political reporting area at the paper. She had shadowed various people, assisted in research, writing, and editing, and had even gone out into the field with a seasoned reporter.

  The experience further solidified that she was really doing what she loved. She was so often locked away in the academic setting that she didn’t always see what it really felt like to be out there. The college newspaper, while an incredible publication, was nothing compared to starting a career at a professional newspaper.

  The only downside to her being in New York for her break meant that she didn’t get to see Hayden. They visited each other as frequently as they could, but as his job grew more demanding and midterms rolled around, they found less and less time together.

  It wasn’t the end of the world. A part of her just wanted to drive to Charlotte and shirk her responsibilities. But that wasn’t like her at all . . . She hadn’t been able to do any work for the school newspaper while in New York, and she had homework on top of that. So at least she would be keeping herself busy.

  As soon as she got home, she changed into jeans, a three-quarter-sleeve blue button-down, and her knee-high brown boots. She twirled a pink chevron scarf around her neck and grabbed her North Face jacket and laptop before heading right back out the door to the paper.

  She parked in her normal parking spot reserved for the editor and trekked up the stairs and into the Union. Liz plopped down at her desk and fired up her computer. She had a million emails regarding editorial work, newspaper design, next week’s stories, and on down the line. She would be up all night sorting through the mess.

  A while into her email binge, Liz heard the office door opening. She checked her watch and saw that it was already eight thirty at night. She suspected she wouldn’t get out of here until well past midnight. She actually considered pulling an all-nighter. But she hadn’t thought anyone else would show up at the paper on their fall break.

  “Hello?” she called, standing and walking out of her office. A smile broke out on her face as she saw Hayden standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

  She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He drew her into him and kissed her cheek. “I got two days off and knew you would be back from New York today.”

  “You could have called!”

  “Nah . . . it’s better to see that beautiful face when I surprised you,” he said, cupping her cheek and kissing her lips.

  “I just can’t believe you’re here. I really didn’t think I’d get to see you until next weekend. How did you know I would be here, anyway?”

  Hayden shrugged and gestured for her to walk back into the office. “I called Victoria and she told me.”

  “Ah, makes sense,” Liz said, taking a seat her desk. “Well, if I’d known then I wouldn’t have started all this stuff.” She gestured toward the cluttered desk and her open laptop.

  “It’s all right. No rush. Do you want to just finish up and then we could head out? Maybe we could get dinner at Top O,” he suggested.

  “That sounds great. There’s no way I’m finishing all of this tonight anyway,” she said. The piles of emails would still be there tomorrow for her to take care of.

  “What do you have to do?” Hayden asked, walking over to her computer, reading over her shoulder.

  “Just some basic stuff. Layout, editing, new material. The usual.”

  Liz began to pack up her other stuff as Hayden scrolled through the mass of emails she had neglected while working in New York. She had so much other stuff to do on top of the newspaper that she probably should have just stayed, but how often did she get to see Hayden these days?

  “You have a lot here,” Hayden said.

  “Yeah. I’ve been pretty swamped the past two weeks, and then the New York Times on top of all of that,” Liz said, shrugging. “I’ll get through it all.”

  She heard Hayden sigh as she tidied up her desk and pretended to put it into some order. If she had known he was going to be here, she would have made some kind of effort to make it look presentable. Now she was just doing it out of habit because she knew that he liked things tidy.

  “Liz, you know I really don’t like that you’re dropping the ball with this kind of stuff,” he said, his voice carrying the edge of authority he used when he had been editor of the paper. She had always thought that voice was commanding in a gentle, nudging way. Right now . . . it didn’t have that quality. It sounded a whole hell of a lot more like her boyfriend was about to reprimand her.

  “Dropping the ball on what?” she said, turning to stare at him, her hands on her hips. She didn’t know why the comment immediately made her defensive. She was editor of the paper now, not him, and she was doing just fine. In fact, sometimes she thought she was doing a better job than Hayden had, because she didn’t have to micromanage people.

  “You have about a hundred emails in here. Things that really need to get taken care of. I know you have this big internship lined up at the New York Times, but that doesn’t mean you can let my paper turn to shit.”

  Liz froze, her blue eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

  “Look, I picked you for this position because I thought you could handle juggling everything at once. If you can’t, then maybe you should think about how that affects the newspaper and not jeopardize its reputation for your other projects.”

  “You think I’m jeopardizing the reputation of the newspaper by having a few unread emails?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Stop making this sound bad. I’m just saying that you should consider the impact of your carelessness. I would have never let this go on like this,” he told her.

  “Well, I’m not sure if you noticed, Hayden, but I’m not you,” she said, rounding on him. “And the only reason anything is being neglected is because my boyfriend took a job hours away. So sorry if you wanted to see me.”

  He quickly tried to backtrack. “This isn’t about us.”

  “No. I think this is very much about us and actually has little to do with the paper. So perhaps you could just spell out to me what’s going on.”

  Hayden shook his head in frustration. “See, this is it. I built this paper into a well-oiled machine. I took what a bunch of other editors had done and made it all run like it was on wheels. I laid the foundation and now you’re trying to dig away at what I created by being as selfish as all the other editors before you.”

  Liz’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Selfish?” she said in a strangled voice. “I’m being selfish by pursuing my career? I’m being selfish by visiting my boyfriend who wants me to see him? I’m being selfish by not being you?”

  “Lizzie . . . , calm down, please. It has nothing to do with our relationship.”

  “You keep saying that, but it’s not what I hear. All I hear is someone who is pissed off and jealous because his girlfriend is interning at the New York Times when you stood no chance
at the Washington Post, and reminiscing about the good old days in college. And now you’re being an asshole to me when I don’t deserve it,” she spat.

  “I’m not jealous. That’s fucking insane. I got internships in D.C. too; that doesn’t mean you’ll get a job at the New York Times out of college, especially not with the way you’re running this newspaper,” he retorted harshly.

  “Fine,” she snapped, shaking her head. “You know what? I’m going home.”

  She slammed her computer closed, stuffed it into her bag, then grabbed it and started walking out of the office.

  “Lizzie, come on. Why are you leaving?” Hayden asked, reaching for her.

  Liz wrenched her arm back. “Stop it.”

  “I came all this way to visit you,” he said earnestly.

  “Then you should have considered how you were going to treat me. I’m not a punching bag for your emotions.”

  She turned on her heel and stormed toward the exit. He didn’t even follow her this time, and that just fueled her anger.

  They had never had an argument in the almost year that they had been dating, and her whole body ached at the thought. She hated being angry with him, but he deserved it. Tears stung her eyes as she shouldered open the heavy double doors.

  Liz wasn’t sure why, but as the door slammed behind her, her thoughts strayed to Brady. He would have never belittled her career like that. In fact, he had always been interested in where her life was headed.

  She ground her teeth together to try to hold herself together. It didn’t matter what he thought. That ship had long since sailed.

  Liz wrapped her scarf around her neck and braced herself against the cold. Winter was rearing its ugly head a little too early for her Florida fancy. She didn’t like the cold, nor was she used to it, and she wished in that moment that she had remembered her gloves. They were stowed away in her glove compartment, little good that did her.

  Rubbing her hands together, she tried not to think of Hayden and his jealous, antagonistic attitude. Every time she tried not to think about her boyfriend, it brought her full circle to Brady, another person she didn’t want to think about. She had been doing so well on that front for so long that it was weird that her mind immediately drifted there. Why couldn’t she just forget about these boys and focus on her career?

  Yet, all she wanted to do was talk out her anger with someone. Victoria would lynch Hayden before the full story even left Liz’s mouth. Liz was close with Massey and Savannah, but it was break and she just couldn’t bring herself to ruin theirs after Hayden had just ruined the end of hers.

  Brady. She just kept coming back to Brady for some reason. Her stomach tugged and she felt a prickle travel through her lower half just at the thought. Groaning, she tried to forget his name, his presence, his damn smirk, and that insufferable way he had of never really leaving her life.

  Liz reached for her phone and ran her index finger across the touch screen. She had deleted all of his numbers from her phone in the spring after her twenty-first-birthday escapade. She didn’t have a way to get hold of him other than the office number she had used all last summer. She doubted it would work anyway.

  It had just been so long since they had talked . . . really talked. What was the last thing he had even said to her? She couldn’t remember. She had been drunk on the phone. But she could remember clear as day the last thing he had texted to her before leaving the primary. You know this can’t be anything else right now. Just don’t forget, okay? He had been antagonizing her, just reminding her over and over that they could never really work out, never be more than a secret affair.

  But how could she forget? How could she forget anything when Brady always clouded her consciousness? How could she forget when he was still around, when she was always near his sister, when everything from the very desk that she sat in day in and day out at the paper reminded her of him and how they hadn’t worked out?

  Liz shook her head. She needed to get herself together, but she didn’t feel as if it was worth it tonight. Hayden’s harsh words had struck a chord with her, and she didn’t know how to stop playing to his tune. She was too emotional, and she just wanted to get away from it all—her “perfect” boyfriend, her perfect school, her perfect life. She wanted to go back to that summer when she hadn’t been Lizzie.

  Against her better judgment she typed in the number.

  Her heart hammered in her chest and her body warmed despite the ever-cooling temperatures. She walked briskly across the leaf-strewn sidewalk with her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She chanced a glance behind her to confirm that the door to the Union was still sealed shut. Hayden hadn’t left. He wasn’t going to follow her. He wasn’t running after her.

  “Congressman Maxwell’s office.”

  Liz felt a rush of adrenaline pump through her body as she remembered their summer exploits and the thrill of being someone else for a while. She hadn’t thought that this number would be working any longer. But he must have kept a local office open in the district for when he was here on business. Still, it shocked her a little.

  “Yes,” she said her voice shaky. “I’m trying to reach the Congressman. Is he in this evening?”

  Her hands trembled. It had been a while since she had done this. She knew it was a long shot, but maybe they could connect her with the D.C. office. It was invigorating and terrifying how much she reveled in the rebellion.

  “Yes, he’s in, but the Congressman is occupied. May I take a message?”

  Liz’s heart leaped. He was here . . . in North Carolina. At least, that was what she assumed the lady meant.

  “Can you tell him Sandy Carmichael is on the line,” she murmured, the strength renewed in her voice.

  The woman paused. “Yes, Ms. Carmichael. Please hold.”

  Liz chewed on her lips as she waited. The wind picked up and tore through her hair, whipping it into her eyes. She tried to brush it out of her face, but the wind was relentless. She could empathize with its ferocity tonight.

  Jogging the last few feet in her knee-high brown boots, Liz made it to her car and quickly ducked inside out of the cold. She was still shivering as she waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. Would he answer? She hadn’t spoken to him since her birthday in April, and it was now the end of October. Had she made a mistake in calling?

  The clock told her it was only nine o’clock. Last summer felt like so long ago. Just as her mind drifted to nights at his lake house, stolen nights in hotel rooms, and fancy cocktail dinners, where mere looks across the room were enough to push them into deliriously dangerous circumstances, the line clicked over.

  “The Congressman will be right with you,” the woman said, pausing briefly, before adding, “Ms. Carmichael.”

  A second later, Liz heard a buzz on the line. Her heart leaped out of her chest with anticipation, and she felt a stirring between her thighs. She was already turned on, and she hadn’t even heard his voice. It was wrong, so wrong that just a buzz on the other line could make her throb. She didn’t want to admit that the waiting riled her up as much as he did. She had tried to forget all of these things.

  “Sandy?” Brady’s intoxicating voice murmured the name they had always used in public. She almost groaned aloud at the seductive quality it carried. He didn’t talk like this on the radio. She started to squirm and pressed her legs together.

  “Brady.” She sighed into the phone, forgetting all of her worries with the sound of his voice. She slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes, remembering easier times.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice showing what she knew was a hint of desperation. She hadn’t called in months; of course he would be concerned.

  Or would he? God, she didn’t know right now. All she knew was that she wanted to forget her argument with Hayden. She wanted to get lost in Brady. If all she could have was his voice to soothe her aches, then she would take it.

  “Yeah . . .” Tears fell down her cheeks unbidden. Where had they come from? How h
ad just his voice opened the floodgates? She choked back a sob, bringing her knees up to her chest. She was overreacting. She knew it, but it all felt like too much with Hayden right then. She wanted something . . . else.

  “Where are you?” he demanded.

  “At the newspaper,” she choked out.

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  “What?” she cried jumping out of her seat, her legs smacking the steering wheel.

  “You don’t call me crying in the middle of the night after not speaking with me for months, and then tell me I can’t see you. I can’t handle it, Liz,” he growled. She gasped lightly at the way he said her name. “I said I’m coming to get you.”

  The phone went dead in her hand.

  Chapter 16

  NOTHING ELSE EVER HAD

  Liz crashed back heavily into her seat.

  What had she done? Brady couldn’t come here. Over a year had passed since they had last been together like that. She felt as if she was losing her mind even considering it.

  Her head snapped to the still-closed newspaper door. Hayden was inside. He had acted like a total asshole and pushed her away. The way he had treated her was completely unacceptable and it just set her off. How could he act like that after the last year? She was clearly motivated, independent, hardworking, and a dozen or so other power adjectives. The thought of him saying otherwise to her just infuriated her further.

  She ground her teeth together. She had to make up her mind. If she decided to go with Brady, then she needed to move her car. Hayden would know something was wrong if it was still parked in the lot after she had told him she was leaving. And at the moment the last thing she wanted to do was talk to him.

  Liz turned over the engine without thinking more about the consequences of her actions and drove her car into the parking deck. It was located behind a row of dorms off the back of the Union, which was good, because Hayden would never think to check there. The only problem was that she couldn’t see the main newspaper parking lot from her new location.