Liz walked forward into the ballroom that housed Brady’s big gala event. Chris was standing at her side, looking dashing out of his khakis and into a tux. His longer light brown hair was trimmed, and he had shaved. He handed off the pair of tickets Brady had left with them, and they glided through the doors.
The room was a surprising display. Liz had expected the typical red-white-and-blue decor that she had associated with political campaigns, but it seemed that had been replaced with actual evening decorations in black, white, and gold. High tables, covered in alternating silky tablecloths, were scattered around the massive ballroom, where guests mingled with drinks in hand. The waitstaff wandered the premises in tailored tuxedos and shimmery black dresses, carrying hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes on gold platters.
A sizable number of influential members of North Carolina society were present, along with a few notable politicians, celebrities, and business executives from outside the state whom Liz recognized. Everyone was dressed to the nines and had probably paid a pretty penny in donations to be at this fund-raising event.
Liz took a deep breath and tried not to think about it. Brady wanted her here tonight even though the party was only supposed to be for donors, friends, and family. She felt extremely on edge in the ballroom surrounded by all of these people, knowing she was essentially Brady’s mistress.
No, he wasn’t married. No, he wasn’t dating anyone. No, she wasn’t technically a mistress. But she was a secret and that was enough.
After the time they had spent with Chris out in the open, she had started feeling antsy. She hadn’t seen Brady since that night, but she felt like the paradigm of their relationship had forever changed now that someone knew what they were doing. If Chris knew, why couldn’t Victoria know? Why couldn’t his family know? Why couldn’t the whole campaign know?
She didn’t like to think about it. She knew it would upset him if she mentioned it, but they were so good together. Would it really be the end of the world if other people knew what they were doing? Would it really jeopardize the campaign and her career? She knew that they had started out a secret for that very reason, but she hadn’t ever expected to want to change that. Now that she did…she couldn’t help wondering if they had just blown it out of proportion to begin with.
Liz followed Chris to an empty table and he smiled at a few people he knew. She was really surprised by how many faces she recognized. Like the governor…wasn’t he from a different party? And two basketball celebrities…had they played with Brady in college? And a news reporter from the Washington Post and another one that Liz followed from the New York Times. She knew that no press was allowed in the event, and they weren’t wearing badges or carrying equipment. Were they supporters?
Liz knew she shouldn’t be in reporter mode, but she couldn’t help it. It was who she was. Ingrained in her now. This event wasn’t open to the press, but her fingers were itching for the voice recorder and notebook she normally carried with her. She only had a deep red satin clutch with her, at Victoria’s insistence.
The day after she met Chris, she had gone shopping with Victoria at the mall and some of the local boutiques. Liz had been ready to call it quits and wear what she had, but Victoria had urged her into a few more shops. A few more shops had actually been closer to a dozen, in true Victoria style.
It had been worth it though when they had found the dress. Liz hadn’t been sure about it until Victoria had forced her to try it on. The champagne-colored silk hugged her figure seamlessly, falling to the floor, the train trailing out ever so slightly behind her. It had a square bustier top with a small V dipping between her breasts. The beaded straps crossed her back and held up the backless ensemble, which was ruched at the base of her spine.
Miraculously, after she matched it with dark red pumps, it didn’t need any alterations. Victoria had piled Liz’s thick, blond hair up off her neck and into curls. The only jewelry on her whole body was a thin gold necklace and gold-knotted earrings.
“Champagne?” the waitress asked as she passed.
Chris glanced at Liz. “You?”
“Sure,” she said, taking a drink from the waitress.
Chris held up his hand and she moved on. “I think I’ll head to the bar and get something else. I prefer beer. Did you want something?”
Liz took a sip of her champagne and then set it down. She couldn’t get sloshed. She needed to take it easy. “I think I’m good with the champagne.”
“All right,” he said with a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Hey,” Liz said, reaching out and touching his arm. “When will Brady get here?”
Brady had told her that he wouldn’t be there when the event started, but he would make an appearance once the room started filling up. She just didn’t know when to expect him. She was already excited to see him.
“I’m sure he’ll be late to his own gig.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Probably in the next twenty to thirty minutes if we’re lucky. The sooner he gets here, the sooner we leave.”
Liz giggled and shook her head. “What? Afraid of getting pawned off to someone’s son again?”
“Don’t get me started. I’ll tell you that story later, and then you won’t be laughing!” he said before turning and walking toward the bar.
Liz took another drink of her champagne and went back to people watching. Brady would be here in the next twenty minutes or so, which meant she had a little bit of time to size up the crowd.
She figured she was the youngest person in the room besides Savannah, whom she picked out in an Anne Boleyn green dress across the room. Most of the donors in the room who contributed to Brady’s campaign were up-and-comers riding the bandwagon of success. There were a sizable number of older individuals, women primarily, who all seemed to know one another. She was pretty sure she recognized some of them from her table at the Jefferson-Jackson event.
“Find what you’re looking for?” a voice drawled softly into her ear.
She turned around slowly and looked up into an oddly familiar face, but not the one she had been expecting. Where had she seen this person before? He had short blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and dimpled cheeks. So familiar…yet she couldn’t place him.
“I wasn’t looking for anything,” she covered quickly, flushing.
“For you,” he said, offering her a glass half-full of dark liquid.
Some guy was bringing her a drink…out of nowhere. That felt oddly familiar as well.
“Um…thanks,” she said, taking it out of his hand.
He chuckled, those cute dimples returning. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Busted! “No, sorry. You do look really familiar…”
“We met on the Fourth of July,” he offered. “You were having a medical emergency. Claustrophobic, if I remember correctly. How are you handling this event?” he asked amicably.
“Oh my God, that’s right! So sorry! I was kind of having a moment,” she said.
If only he knew what kind of moment…
“You seem all right now,” he drawled.
“Much better.”
He smiled down at her, and she noticed how handsome he was. “So, what do you think about the party? A bit different from the Fourth of July atmosphere.”
“It’s classy. I’m just glad it’s not red-white-and-blue,” she said.
“Ah, how exceptionally unpatriotic,” he teased.
“Well, what do you think about it, then?” Liz demanded, taking a sip of the drink he had brought over to her. She smiled as the whiskey slid down her throat.
“Hmm…the truth?” he asked with a devilish grin.
“Of course.”
“I think the decorations are a bit overdone, the crowd is a bit stiff, and the candidate is a pompous asshole. But hey, we don’t vote on character, do we?”
Liz nearly choked on her drink. Had he really just called Brady a pompous asshole? She would have laughed, since it was something she would have thought two months ago, but she didn’t think that anymore. She knew Brady too well to think that was true.
“Good to see you think so highly of your representative,” she said, biting back a smile.
“Don’t believe all of that. They don’t represent us. They represent themselves and business and some of the people in this room who give them a lot of money,” he told her as a matter of fact.
“What a jaded view of the political process,” Liz said. She’d had similar thoughts before, but that was why she was in journalism and not politics. She couldn’t deal with the insincerity and duplicity herself. She would rather report on it.
“Only honest one you’ll get in here tonight, and don’t forget it,” he said, gesturing to the crowd.
“You think pretty highly of yourself. I sure hope you never go through the trouble of running for office,” she said with a genuine smile.
He laughed out loud and set his drink on the table. “So, you’re saying that you approve of the Maxwell family taking over the political field?”
“We’ll see how the primary goes first,” she said diplomatically.
“Spoken like a true politician. Are you running for office?” He leaned forward as if to get the inside scoop.
“Definitely not,” she said.
“Maybe reconsider it.”
“And would I have your vote, considering what you think about politicians?” Liz asked, leaning forward to match him.
“I don’t give away my vote freely, but I think I’d let you take it,” he drawled. “You want to run against a Maxwell?”
“Maybe I’ll wait for an open seat.” She took another sip of her drink. His eyes followed the movement.
The room gradually fell silent all around them, and Liz broke his gaze to look up at the entrance. Standing just inside the double doors, directly across from her table, stood Brady. He looked un-fucking-believable. He seriously got better-looking every time she saw him. He wore a black tux, and his hair had been styled to perfection. Everything just fit him as if it had been made for his body, and all she wanted to do was get him out of it.
She zeroed in on him, and then slowly, as if she were zooming out with a camera, she saw everything else. And what she saw made her stomach drop.
A woman. No, not just any woman. A freaking gorgeous woman. Model thin, above-average height, long, lustrous hair, flawless skin, and an expensive-dress-and-jewelry kind of woman. A woman with her hand holding on to Brady’s elbow as if…she was there with him. With her Brady.
“Why am I not surprised?” the guy said next to her. “See what I mean by not judging on character alone? I’m sure he’s sleeping with her.”
Liz’s fingers clenched into the cloth on the table as her heart sped up. Three days ago she had been meeting Brady’s best friend for the first time. While Brady hadn’t said that he was going to the event alone, she hadn’t thought he would show up with some other woman on his arm. Not after telling Liz that he didn’t want anyone near her. Now he was here with some other woman?
Her death glare must have drawn Brady’s attention, because his eyes found her easily in the crowd. They stayed like that for only a couple of seconds, but she was sure he grasped the heat in her stare. His eyes traveled away from her, but jerked back to her almost immediately. He looked at her as if he was trying to puzzle out an answer, and then he looked away.
She felt sick. She needed to get away from there.
“Liz,” Chris called, appearing out of nowhere. “Sorry I was held up.” He looked over at the guy she had been standing with and clapped him on the back. “Hey, man. How’s law school treating you? Are you liking Yale?”
Liz wanted to disappear. She was fuming. She knew deep down she had no right to be angry about this. They couldn’t be out in public, but that didn’t mean he could bring someone else! She wanted to be that woman right now! His girl. She had never wanted to be in anyone else’s shoes as much as she did at that moment.
“Doing just fine. I see you know Liz,” he said, using her name without any effort, as if he had known it all along rather than only after Chris had just said it.
“Oh, you know Liz?” Chris asked, sounding confused. “She’s here with me.” Chris touched her elbow, and it took everything she had not to wrench it out of his grasp. “I didn’t know you had already met Clay,” he said, turning to face Liz.
That snapped her out of her anger for a second. “What?” Liz asked, her brows scrunched.
The guy Chris had called Clay smirked and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Liz took his hand and shook it. “Clay Maxwell.”
“Maxwell,” she muttered, stunned.
“So…you haven’t met?” Chris asked, trying to judge the situation.
“We met at the Fourth of July rally,” Clay told Chris, “and then again just now.”
Clay. Maxwell. Fuck. Of course, it was Clay Maxwell. The only other person she had found interesting, attractive, and engaging had been Brady’s brother. Great!
Liz glanced back over at Brady, who had started talking to his guests and posing for pictures along the way. His parents were standing behind him and to the left. Heather and that same beady-eyed guy from the club were standing to his right. She would be sure to avoid them. Heather was one of the few who knew her indirectly.
But what was worse, the woman Brady was standing with had her arm on his sleeve and followed at his side the whole time. Liz felt heat rise to her face as her stomach constricted into a million impossibly tight knots. She swallowed down a lump in her throat and balled her hands into fists at her sides. She would have clutched onto the fabric of her dress, but she didn’t want to ruin it.
“Are you feeling all right?” Clay asked Liz, reaching out and touching her arm.
Chris looked over at Liz, concerned. “Do you need to sit down?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. She tried to rein in her rising anger, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. She kept trying to tell herself that she had no right to be angry, but that felt like a lie.
Liz turned her head away from Brady and the woman on his arm. She couldn’t keep staring at them. It made her nauseous to see them together.
“Maybe we should go get you some water,” Chris suggested.
“Water. Hmm,” she mused, remembering how she and Brady had driven to Chris’s house for water. She took a few slow breaths, trying to calm down. “No, I think I’m fine. Already recovering. Must have been the claustrophobia.”
“Well, it’s good you’re feeling better. I unfortunately have to go find the rest of my family. It was good seeing you again, Liz. Chris,” Clay said, thrusting his hand out. Clay and Chris shook formally, as if they were on opposite sides of an irresolvable war. Clay flashed her a smile and turned to leave. He only took a step before Brady materialized before him, with his date in tow.
“Clay,” Brady said with a smile. It was a campaign smile. Liz could read it a mile away.
“Brady,” Clay responded. “Nice party.” He made it sound like a joke.
“Thanks. Mind taking a picture? We can do a family one later.”
“I sure hope it’s for the Christmas card,” Clay retorted.
“Christmas in July?”
“Never too early.”
“Just take the picture,” Brady said, turning to face the photographer. Brady smiled and the camera flashed.
Clay broke away from Brady as soon as it was over. “You should take one with Chris. Have you met his date?” Clay turned to include Liz and Chris into the conversation. “I think I’ve convinced her to run against you.”
“Have you? How kind,” Brady said, turning to face Liz.
Their eyes met and she stopped breathing. She wished his campaign mask would slip for a second so she could see what else was underneath that beautiful face. Why was he doing this to her?
“I hear you’re running against me. How do you intend to win?” Brady asked Liz.
“By taking out the competition, of course,” Liz said without missing a beat.
Clay snickered and Chris squeezed her arm. Brady just kept looking at her, completely unaffected.
“I do believe you would. I hope I can change your mind about running.”
“I’m sure you’d try to change my mind about a lot of things,” she said coolly.
Brady laughed and Liz tried to muster a smile, but it wasn’t without difficulty. “Liz, is it? I believe we met at the rally on the Fourth of July.”
“Indeed we did, Senator,” she said formally. “And who is your beautiful girlfriend?” Liz turned her attention to the woman at his side.
“Ah, this is my friend Amber,” he added, hastily introducing Amber to the group of people.
“Pleased to meet you,” Amber said with an overemphasized Southern drawl.
“How do you guys know each other anyway?” Clay asked.
“We met at the Miss North Carolina pageant,” Amber filled in.
“A pageant. I sure hope you beat him,” Clay said snarkily.
Amber giggled and covered her mouth. Brady shook his head. “Amber is Miss North Carolina. She won this year’s competition.”
“Is that a scholarship competition?” Liz asked, directing her attention to Amber, because she couldn’t look at Brady.
“It is!” Amber answered enthusiastically.
“It must be nice to get a scholarship just for being beautiful,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, glancing at Brady, and then setting it back down. “Excuse me. I’m not feeling well. I think I need to go sit down.”
“I’ll go with you,” Chris said. He placed his drink next to hers.
“Good luck with your election, Senator,” Liz said, smiling at him, turning, and walking away.
Chris followed close on her heels, waiting until they were at a comfortable distance from other people before speaking. “Liz, calm down. He’s not here with her. He only showed up with her. It’s not like that. He likes you. I swear. He wouldn’t have told me about you if he didn’t.”
“Chris,” Liz grumbled, “do you mind shutting up?”
“Come on. You know he’s not interested in that woman. She has nothing between her ears.”
“He’s still here with her.” She continued to walk quickly. She didn’t know where she was going…just trying to escape.
“He wouldn’t have brought anyone if he had the choice.”
“Exactly. No one or a fucking beauty queen.” She stopped and faced him, making sure no one was paying them any attention. “Not me.”
“It’s bad timing. That’s all. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, please,” Liz said, shaking her head and starting to walk again. “Its having nothing to do with me is even worse.”
“Hey.” Chris grabbed her arm and forcibly stopped her from walking farther. “I’m telling you as his best friend that he likes you. Remember the other night when we were all together? He’s not like that with some dumb beauty queen. Now let’s get another drink and calm down.”
“Did you know he was bringing someone else?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said with a sigh, “but not until last night.”
“And why wasn’t I informed of this?” Liz asked testily.
“Because he thought you might back out, and he wanted you here.”
“Well, at least he knows me.”
“Come on,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.”
Liz sighed and shook her head. “No. I don’t think I can do that. I can’t stand around and watch him with her.” She brushed his hand off of her shoulder and started walking toward the door. She had fallen hard for Brady Maxwell, but he couldn’t parade that woman in front of her. He couldn’t get away with not telling her the truth, not being up front with her, when he demanded it of her.
“Liz…” Chris called, following after her. “Don’t leave.”
“I have to. He doesn’t take this seriously.”
“He’d be stupid not to take you seriously after that last comment.”
Liz shot daggers at him. “Why are you even siding with him?”
“He’s my best friend. Look, just come with me for a minute.” Chris reached out and stopped her. “Don’t leave yet.”
“Chris, come on. I’m just going to go.”
“One minute,” he pleaded.
Liz grumbled expletives softly under her breath before nodding. “Fine. Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet,” he said, walking toward the back wall.
“For what?”
“Just act natural.”
Liz shrugged and decided to see where he was taking her. It was better than sticking around the party and watching the stupid beauty-pageant chick follow Brady around like a lapdog.
They walked through a door on the other side of the room, which led them through a service hallway. They turned a corner and Chris jiggled the handle to the first door on the right. It twisted and pushed inward. Liz peered around him and saw that he had opened a door into a family bathroom.
“What the hell is this?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Chris looked up and down the empty hallway. “Just go inside. Brady will meet you in a minute.”
“In a bathroom?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes. Go,” he said, pointing at the door.
Liz looked at him as if he were mentally insane, but walked into the bathroom and shut the door. She felt really ridiculous. She was standing in a bathroom, for Christ’s sake. Who did this? What if Brady left her in there all night? Not that she would stay longer than like fifteen minutes…okay twenty…maybe longer.
She sighed, feeling even more ridiculous. How the hell could Brady bring someone else to this event? Why even invite Liz if he was going to flaunt someone else around in front of her the whole time? After blowing up on her about Justin and not wanting anyone else to get their hands on her, he had the audacity to show up with someone else. As if she wanted anyone to get her hands on him!
Just the thought was getting her even more riled up. And she didn’t want to calm down.
The door handle rattled as someone wrestled with the stuck knob. It popped open a second later and Brady stood silhouetted in the doorway. Alone.
Liz smiled at the sight of him. Then she remembered she was angry and wiped it away. He moved inside quickly, shut and locked the door. He took one look at her before crossing the small space, taking her face in his hands, and kissing the breath right out of her. Her eyes closed for a second as he took what was his. He was the most intoxicating substance on the planet. Their kisses were like fire scorching through a burning building—hot and destructive.
She didn’t want him to stop. She couldn’t possibly want that. She wanted to do this for the rest of eternity. Who cared if he burned a hole right through her heart?
Then she came to her senses, and she pushed him back with every ounce of force. She probably didn’t move him back more than an inch, but the shock of her stopping him made him stumble a few feet backward.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brady asked.
“Stopping you.”
“What have you been doing since you got here?”
“What have I been doing?” she asked, her eyes going wide.
“Yes. What have you been doing? Flirting with my brother, making a scene when I come to see you—what is wrong with you?” he demanded.
“I’m not sure I can even justify that with an answer!” she said, shaking her head.
“Is this because of Amber? Because if it is, then you need to get your shit together. Did you forget that I’m on the campaign? That I have an election to win?” he asked gruffly.
“How could I possibly forget?” she demanded.
“I don’t know, but you’re fucking acting like you have. I thought you knew what we were doing.” He clenched his hands into fists.
“That’s right. What we were doing,” she said, trying to brush past him to get to the door.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he asked. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into him.
“We aren’t doing what we started out doing anymore. If you want the girl who you met in May, then sorry…she’s long gone,” she told him, staring up into his dark, intense eyes.
“You’re not leaving, Liz,” he told her. She arched an eyebrow, wondering whether he was daring her. “I don’t want that girl. I want you. Do you hear me? I want you.”