For the Record (Record #3)

by K. A. Linde

  Facts were facts. Liz wasn’t on the paper anymore. Massey was taking over her position. That was going to cause strain no matter what they said or did.

  Liz had known that her relationship with Brady would affect her career, since it did call into question her objectivity. She just hadn’t thought all of that would happen so quickly, or that it would mess up her friendships.

  With a sigh, she pulled out her MacBook to take notes.

  She felt stares all throughout class. That she had been prepared for, so she just tried to ignore them. People had the paper out on their desks, and some were giggling or whispering among themselves. That was fine. They could say whatever they wanted. It didn’t matter.

  When class ended, Liz took her time putting her things back into her bag. She was a little behind, since she’d missed part of last week. She wanted to check with the professor about makeup assignments, but she didn’t want to do it with anyone else around.

  “Hello, Professor,” Liz said amicably. “I just wanted to ask you when I could come by to make up missed assignments while I was out last week.”

  “Do you have a doctor’s note?” the professor asked, staring down at the legal pad in his hand.

  “Oh . . . no, sir. I didn’t end up going to the doctor, but I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t out with your boyfriend?”

  “Excuse me?” Liz asked. She couldn’t believe the professor had the audacity to say that to her.

  “Just seems convenient is all, Miss Dougherty. I’ll need a doctor’s note or the assignment can’t be made up,” he said indifferently.

  “Beg your pardon. This is the second class I’ve had of yours, and I’ve never missed before. I’m not sure how you could consider it convenient.” Liz was struggling for control. She had been out sick last week because after she had told Hayden about Brady he had made her feel guilty about the whole thing and then forced her to have sex with him. She had been nauseated, depressed, and unable to function. A doctor wouldn’t have done shit for her!

  “I understand that, but that is my policy. It’s written in the syllabus.”

  “You didn’t say it was a problem when I emailed you last week,” Liz cried in frustration.

  “After reviewing the syllabus, you’ll see that a doctor’s note is required. I wasn’t aware last week when you emailed me that you wouldn’t have one when you returned. I’m sorry, Miss Dougherty. That is my policy. Is there anything else?” he said dismissively.

  Liz’s jaw slackened. Since when was she an untrustworthy student? She had always made it a point to get to the professors, go to their office hours, and overall show that she worked very hard for her grades. This just seemed . . . out of the realm of possibility.

  “No, thank you,” she finally answered. Polite to a fault.

  She walked out of the classroom feeling heavier than she had before entering. She couldn’t even fathom the effect zeros would have on her grade for this class. She had kept her 4.0 GPA for four years straight; she couldn’t lose it her last semester!

  Liz had a lunch break between editing and the advanced political journalism class with Dr. Mires. She walked out of the journalism building and started toward the Pit to eat before thinking better of it. Maybe being at the heart of campus surrounded by people reading about her wasn’t in her best interest.

  She turned around and started walking toward Franklin Street to pick something quick up when she was stopped suddenly by a flash. She staggered back a step.

  “Miss Dougherty, do you have a minute to speak with me?” a woman asked.

  “Sorry. I’m in a hurry,” Liz said, trying to scurry past her.

  “I’m Cynthia Redd with Raleigh News. I’d just like a minute of your time.”

  Liz shook her head. It was her instinct to want to talk to the reporter, find out more about her, find out what the article was on, but she knew what this was about. This woman wanted information about Brady. Liz couldn’t provide that. “No comment,” Liz said.

  Another flash followed and Liz noticed that Cynthia wasn’t alone. There were three other reporters waiting for her. “Miss Dougherty, Carl North with the Herald-Sun,” one said, talking about the Durham newspaper. “We’d love to talk to you about your affair with Congressman Maxwell.”

  Liz didn’t stick around to see who else was there. She just shook her head and repeated herself. “No comment. I have no comment about anything.”

  Then she turned and fled. The worst part was that she could hear the reporters following her. They probably thought that by tagging behind they could corner her and get her to speak. It gave Liz an entirely different perspective on the career that she loved so much.

  Her name was called behind her and her stomach twisted. How could this be happening? She was in a relationship with a politician. That didn’t mean she needed to be tracked down at school!

  Since it was the end of a class change, there were still enough people milling around that Liz could veer through them to try to evade her tail, but it also had the problem of making her look entirely ridiculous. If people didn’t already know who they were, having a swarm of press show up on campus and follow her around wasn’t helping anything. Without a second thought, she darted into the nearest building, wove around the bottom floor until she found a women’s restroom, and then closed and locked the stall door.

  Her breath was coming out ragged and her hands were shaking. Holy shit! Her world had officially flipped on its head. Since when was she the person running away from reporters?

  Liz fumbled in her purse for her cell phone and dialed Brady’s number without thinking. He answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, baby,” he said pleasantly. “Do you think I could call you back? I’m on the line with D.C.”

  “Reporters,” she gasped out. “Reporters on campus. Everywhere.”

  “What?” he growled, his voice fierce.

  She ran a trembling hand back through her hair and took a shuddering breath. “I had reporters waiting for me after my first class. Raleigh News, Herald-Sun, and at least two or three other papers that I didn’t get the names of.”

  “Shit! I’ll get Heather on it now. She should have already handled this.” Liz was sure Heather was not going to like being on the end of Brady’s anger. “Where are you now? Did you say anything to them?”

  “Of course not. I, of all people, should know how to handle reporters,” she said, as if she hadn’t frozen when she’d seen that they were tracking her. “I’m holed up in a bathroom on north campus. I just had to get away.”

  Liz heard his deep inhalation. “I’m sending a car now. I’ll have the driver message you where to meet.”

  “Brady, I still have class,” she said weakly, though she was suddenly in no mood to attend it.

  “I think you should contact the professor and let him know that you won’t be able to make it. Staying on campus isn’t a good idea. We don’t know if other reporters intend to show up,” he told her. “Plus, I miss you.”

  Liz smiled. The first good thing to happen to her today. His statement brought unexpected tears to her eyes and she blinked them away. She hadn’t realized quite how much stress she was carrying around with her until that statement.

  “I miss you too. Sorry I’m keeping you from D.C.”

  Brady chuckled lightly. She could almost see him shaking his head at her. “This is much more important than what I was dealing with. You are more important. I don’t want reporters showing up at school. You don’t need to deal with that on top of classes and the paper and everything else.”

  “Well . . . I guess I don’t have to deal with the paper anymore,” she said, choking on the words. “They requested I take a temporary leave of absence after I showed up on the front page.”

  “Liz, I’m sorry,” he said gently.

  He had to know that she
was sacrificing all of this for him. It was why she had been hesitant about going public after Hayden and Calleigh’s article broke. She knew how much this would affect her life. She just hadn’t quite foreseen how bad it would be.

  “They’re losing a great asset to their team. I truly believe it is a misguided decision on their part. But remember that they are just college students.”

  “I’m just a college student,” Liz said defensively.

  “You are so much more than that. You always have been. They might not see the error in letting you go now, but they will. In the long run, it’s probably better for you anyway. You don’t need anyone holding you back.”

  “And here I thought reporters were the only ones with spin,” Liz said, attempting a joke to deflect his compliments.

  “Politicians don’t have spin. We have facts,” he told her, deadpan.

  Liz let his good mood seep into her. “Politicians and facts. Now you’re a comedian.”

  “There’s that beautiful laugh,” he said softly. “That’s what I wanted.”

  They disconnected shortly afterward. She checked herself out in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look as frazzled as she felt, and then ducked out of the deserted bathroom. There were no reporters in sight, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  Once she received a pickup location from Brady’s driver, she briskly walked across campus with her head down. As soon as she spotted the black town car, she slid easily into the backseat. She felt covert as the car drove her away from campus.

  She had assumed that they would be driving to Brady’s office in Raleigh, but when the driver pulled off of Highway 40 early, Liz sat up a little straighter in her seat. They were headed into the Durham suburbs, and Liz could only guess that they were headed to Brady’s parents’ house. Why would he have her dropped off there?

  Liz had never been to his parents’ house in Durham. In fact, she had only met his parents once, nearly a year ago, because of her friendship with his younger sister, Savannah. She had invited Liz out to dinner with them after the political journalism colloquium Liz had orchestrated. That had been when Brady had been dating Erin, a talk show host out of Baltimore. Suffice it to say the dinner hadn’t gone well.

  Was she supposed to meet them now as Brady’s girlfriend? They had been together again for only a few days and she was going to meet the whole family. She thought she’d been completely freaked out by the reporters stalking her class, but this momentarily paralyzed her.

  She knew it was ridiculous in light of recent events, but she had a million girly thoughts run through her mind. Would his parents like her? Would they see her as the complication Heather did? How could she ever fit into such a close-knit family? Liz bit her lip and tried to hide her distress by looking out at the passing landscape.

  These were normal things she should be able to handle. Parents loved her. They always had. Hayden had been certain for a while that his family liked her better than him. That just made her frown all over again. She had always felt so at home with Hayden’s family. She had even been one of the few people at his sister, Jamie’s, wedding. That relationship was heads-and-tails different from what she had with Brady. If only some part of this situation were normal, then maybe Liz wouldn’t feel quite so queasy at the thought of what was to come.

  The car rolled up in front of the Maxwell house shortly afterward, and Liz’s eyes widened. She had been expecting a large house, but this was more like an estate or a compound. It was hidden from view from the main road by trees and an imposing fence. A sprawling lawn led up to the all-brick edifice with colonial-style columns and a double wraparound porch. The driver wove them along to the back of the house and into an enormous dark garage, and then ushered Liz inside through a side door.

  Liz glanced around the small foyer in which she was deposited and wondered where the hell she was supposed to go and what the hell she was supposed to do.

  Just as she was about to go wandering around, Savannah popped into the room. “Hey! Brady called and let me know you were on your way over,” she said, giving Liz a quick hug.

  “Well, that makes one of us, I guess.” Liz was glad to see Savannah, but also anxious about the reunion. Savannah obviously knew that Liz was now dating her brother, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it. “Um . . . do you know what I’m doing here?”

  “Oh, Brady is leaving the office soon and figured it would be easier to just meet you here.”

  She really wanted to ask why Brady hadn’t just told her that when they were on the phone, but she held it in. Their relationship was so new.

  “Come on. I was just about to eat lunch,” Savannah said, either not noticing Liz’s frustration or choosing not to comment on it. “I skipped out of class early today after all the weird stares. My name wasn’t even in the paper, but a lot of people know who I am at this point. Couldn’t have been fun for you.”

  “Reporters staked out my advanced editing class.”

  Savannah nodded. “Yeah. I’m not all that surprised that’s happening. It’ll blow over.”

  “I wish it was already over.”

  “Isn’t it weird being on this side of reporting?” Savannah asked. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly in the spotlight most of my life, but I understood how media worked and how to avoid it. Now as a reporter, I see everything from a different perspective. You’re probably experiencing the inverse of that.”

  “Yes. Weird would be one word that I would use to describe it.” Bullshit would be the other.

  “So . . . when were you going to tell me you were interested in my brother?” Savannah crinkled her nose and made a disgusted face.

  Liz couldn’t help but laugh. “Never?”

  “Well, at least now I know what changed your mind about voting for him,” she said, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

  “Well, it was more that I just got to know him. He wasn’t what he seemed to an outsider.”

  “How did he seem?” Savannah asked just as they walked into a massive kitchen.

  Liz stopped to stare at the room, which was two or three times the size of the one at her parents’ home in Tampa. Full granite countertops, double ovens built into the wall, French-door refrigerator, all stainless-steel appliances, an enormous island with bar stools to serve as an eat-in breakfast nook. A woman in her early forties had a number of things simmering in pots, and when they sat down, she placed a few gourmet sandwiches in front of her and Savannah. It took Liz a second to realize that they had a cook. She would have never even thought about something like that.

  “Liz?” Savannah asked, waving her hand in front of her face.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “I asked how Brady seemed before you got to know him.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks colored and she turned her face to the sandwich in front of her. “Well, don’t hate me, but he seemed spoiled, like he could get anything he wanted. Born and bred for the position. Out of touch with reality and in it for the money.”

  “Sounds accurate to me,” someone said.

  Liz glanced over and saw Clay striding into the room with a smirk on his face. His dimples were evident, blue eyes shining with barely contained humor, and his blond hair styled perfectly. Liz had met Brady’s brother two years ago, when he had tried to convince her not to vote for Brady at a gala event. Ever since then he had been trying to get into her pants. It had almost worked last week in her moment of desperation, but she had ended up stealing his phone and calling Brady instead.

  “What are you doing here?” Savannah asked in surprise. “Didn’t you fly out yesterday?”

  “State of emergency and all that. Supreme court can wait for family business,” Clay said, sliding out the stool next to Liz and taking a seat.

  “Clay,” Savannah warned.

  “I can’t sit here?” he asked, already ignoring his sister. “Luisa, I’ll take the same.”r />
  “Of course,” the cook said, her cheeks coloring under Clay’s gaze.

  “Hey, Liz. It’s been a couple days since I’ve seen you.” He looked her up and down. “With this much clothes on.”

  Liz coughed at the statement and glanced over at Savannah. Her eyes were wide and disapproving. “Really not necessary,” she mumbled.

  “Clay, why do you have to do that?” Savannah asked.

  “Do what?” he asked as if he had no clue. “Last time I saw her, she was in this tiny little dress.” His eyes followed the image still in his mind. “And then . . .”

  “Really, that’s enough,” Liz snapped, giving him an equally disapproving stare. “That might as well have been a lifetime ago.”

  “It was only Friday night,” he said with the same cocky smile and a shrug.

  “Do you have to do this? Can’t you just be normal?” Savannah complained. “Especially after what Brady said. I would have thought that you’d learn. I guess getting thrown up against the wall like a rag doll by your older brother isn’t enough to teach you.”

  Clay’s face hardened. Liz could only guess what had happened between Brady and Clay after Brady had found out. She didn’t see any visible bruises, so maybe there hadn’t been any violence. She was just glad that she had missed it.

  “You always come to his defense, Savi.” He said the nickname like it was a slander.

  “It’s easy to come to his defense. He doesn’t act like you.”

  “There’s no one else like me,” he said with a wink in Liz’s direction.

  “That’s the truth,” Savannah said.

  Clay scooted his chair closer to Liz, completely ignoring his sister. “So,” he said, leaning into Liz.

  “Yes?” She leaned backward.

  “Steal anyone else’s phone lately?”