by K. A. Linde
Liz ended the call and threw the phone into her purse. She was so pissed, she was ready to jump into her car, drive right down to Charlotte, and wring his perfect fucking neck. She had been obsessing since October about what had happened with Brady; she finally let Hayden in, and he did this to repay her.
Well, she couldn’t stay at the office any longer feeling like this. She wasn’t going to get anything done tonight. Liz tore out of her office with her purse slung over her shoulder. She sought out Massey.
“Hey!” Massey said brightly when Liz approached. Then her face fell. “Are you okay?”
“Still not feeling too well, I guess,” Liz said, laying it on thick.
“Oh, no. Do you need me to cover for you again?”
“That would be so nice. I just think I’m trying to push myself too hard.”
Massey nodded her head and clicked a button on the computer. “You should probably go rest. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I’ll take care of it too. I’ll see you Monday morning, Liz!”
“Thanks a million, Massey,” Liz answered sincerely. The woman was saving her life.
Liz bolted from the office and took the steps down to the bottom floor of the Union two at a time. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her body as she stepped out into the crisp February air. The cold air jolted her memories. This time last year had been her snow day with Hayden. She had decided to finally give up Brady after finding out about Erin and had given herself to Hayden for the first time. Now it all felt like a joke. A big, fat joke.
She had never gotten over Brady, she had never given Brady up, and she had never given herself fully to Hayden. Then as soon as he had found out, he had used that against her. The irony of it all was that when Hayden was furious and hurt over their relationship, he had chosen his career over her, which was the very thing she had feared with Brady.
She had walked out, spent over a year missing Brady, pushed him away to the point of no return—for nothing. All she wanted to do was call him, try to explain, beg him to give her one more chance.
But she couldn’t.
No. She wouldn’t.
Brady had shut the door. He had told her not to call him when Hayden broke her heart, and Hayden had done just that. Brady was probably fuming, and the last thing he needed was for her to call him because of Hayden’s article. She wanted to go to him and make it right, but the way to make it right was to remain invisible.
If he wanted to reach out to her, then he would. But she doubted he would. Brady wasn’t the type to go back on promises. How often had he told her that he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep? Wasn’t that the reason he hadn’t told her he loved her? Even thinking that word sent a stabbing pain through her chest. Love. What a joke.
Liz sped home, parked the car in the driveway, and burst through the front door. “Victoria!” she called, slamming the door behind her. “Where are you?”
She stalked down the small hallway and banged on the door. “Vic, are you in there?”
“Yeah, I’m busy,” Victoria choked out. “Can you come back in like fifteen minutes?” There were some whispers from the other side of the door and then Victoria giggled.
“No. This can’t wait. Not unless you want to find your roommate with her veins open on the bathroom floor in fifteen minutes.”
Liz knelt in front of Victoria’s door and pushed her hands up into her hair. Her whole body ached and just wanted it all to stop. She knew she needed to get herself together, but she couldn’t see or think or feel anything through the fury. All she saw was Hayden’s face when he found out, when he asked her for details, when he maliciously fucked her for the mistake that was never a mistake. Had he known then? Had he known that he was planning to ruin her . . . them . . . Brady? Was the sex a good-bye? That thought only pissed her off more.
“Melodramatic much?” Victoria called.
There was shuffling from the other room and then the door popped open. Victoria was dressed in skinny jeans and an oversize sweater. Her hair was a hot mess and she was trying to wrangle it into a ponytail as she exited her bedroom. Liz assumed Duke Fan was on the other side, but assumptions with Victoria were a very bad idea. Victoria pulled the door closed and stared down at Liz expectantly.
“Well, Miss Melodrama? What is so goddamn important?”
Liz stood and walked into the living room. She didn’t want to have this conversation where Duke Fan could potentially hear her. Victoria huffed loudly, but followed behind her.
“You know how we agreed that the worst thing that could happen when I told Hayden about Brady was that he would leave me?” Liz asked as she pulled out her phone.
“Yeah.” Victoria glanced over her shoulder to her closed bedroom door.
“We were wrong.”
“What?” Victoria asked. Her head snapped back to Liz. “What do you mean?”
Liz pulled up the article on her phone and passed it to Victoria. “He wrote about it,” Liz whispered.
“Fuck!” she cried. “Holy fuck!” Her eyes scanned the article. “What a fucking bastard! I’ll cut his balls off!”
“I wouldn’t stop you.”
“Oh my God, Calleigh’s name is on this too,” Victoria said, stunned.
“I know. They must have planned this together.”
Victoria shook her head and scrolled back up through the article. “What the fuck are you going to do? Have you called Brady? Have you spoken to an attorney? Fuck! What can I do? How can I help?”
Liz fisted her hands at her sides again and turned away from Victoria. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t done anything yet, because my name isn’t in the article. He just put me down as Sandy Carmichael. I think it’s better if I lie low. If I act rashly then someone will piece it together, and the last thing I want is to be in the public eye.”
“Have you talked to Hayden? God, why would he do this?”
“I haven’t talked to him. He won’t return my calls.”
“I never liked Lane, but I didn’t think he was this much of a fucking pussy,” Victoria cried.
Liz shrugged. “Me either.”
“Okay. Okay. Sit down for a second,” Victoria said, ushering her to the couch. She dropped Liz’s phone on the coffee table and plopped down next to her. “Let’s chat. The important thing here is you. How are you? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“Psh! You’re far from fine. Talk to me.”
Liz sighed heavily and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m angry. It feels like everything that I did was for nothing. No Brady. No Hayden. Nothing,” she said. “Oh, wait, I accepted a job offer at the New York Times today.”
“Oh my God!” Victoria squealed. “Congratulations, bitch! That’s perfect. All of this shit will blow over, and you can start a new life in New York City!”
Liz managed a half smile, but it quickly fell off of her face when her phone started buzzing noisily on the table. Liz snatched it off the table and stared down at the screen.
“Hayden?” Victoria asked softly.
Liz shook her head. She didn’t know the number. Her heart rate picked up with fear. Was it a reporter? Had they already found her? Her throat constricted as she debated answering the phone. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t.
Curiosity got the better of her.
“Hello?” Liz asked, pressing the phone to her ear.
“Hello. I’m trying to reach Liz Dougherty.”
Liz’s heart stopped in that moment. No. Not a reporter. No one had found her who didn’t already know that she existed. The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakable.
Heather Ferrington, Brady’s press secretary.
The last time Liz had been near Heather, she had told Brady to end it with Liz, and Brady had told her no. She was a fierce woman who had been with Brady since the start of his career and did whatever she could to protect him. Liz was not looking forward to this conversation.
“Who is trying to reach her?�
�� Liz asked carefully.
She didn’t want to talk to Heather, but maybe this was her ticket to Brady. She tried not to let herself get excited for yet another letdown. This one was pretty much a guarantee.
“This is Heather Ferrington with Congressman Maxwell’s office.”
Liz sighed.
“This is Liz. How can I help you, Heather?”
Victoria looked at her with questions in her eyes. Liz mouthed, Brady’s office.
Victoria’s eyes bulged and she whispered, “Are you going to talk to him?”
Liz shook her head and tried to focus on Heather rather than Victoria.
“Miss Dougherty, I would like to keep this conversation brief and private. Strictly off the record, if I can get your guarantee on that,” Heather said formally.
What did she have to lose?
“Of course,” Liz whispered. If Heather thought Liz was going to write about this, then she was out of her mind.
“I don’t know what possessed you after more than a year and a half to divulge the information of your . . . relationship with Congressman Maxwell.” Heather said the word as if it physically pained her. “But whatever it is, you won’t accomplish it. And I would suggest to you, Miss Dougherty, to not further divulge any information without realizing that you are risking your own career, which I believe is quite important to you.”
“Is that a threat, Miss Ferrington?” Liz asked, seething.
“Hardly. Perhaps I should make myself clearer. Brady doesn’t want you. Your pathetic attempt at ruining his career isn’t even a blip on his radar. You are nothing.”
“If I’m not even a blip, then why are we speaking?” Liz spat back. She wanted to reach through the phone and slap Heather straight across the face. Liz knew that Heather was only trying to protect Brady, but her methods weren’t always that effective.
“We’re talking because any and everything related to the Congressman is on my radar. I didn’t trust you the summer you hid your relationship and I don’t trust you now. My job is to minimize problems. You’re a problem, and I’m minimizing.”
Liz ground her teeth together. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? She was a problem for Brady. Heather was only doing her job. Liz would do the same thing if she were in Heather’s situation. She saw the problem for what it was and went straight to the source. No beating around the bush.
“So the best thing for you to do going forward is to do absolutely nothing. You gain nothing by revealing yourself further.”
“Does he even know that you’re speaking with me?” Liz asked softly. She didn’t have to tell Heather that she wasn’t going to say anything else. She already felt as if she had died a thousand deaths knowing that it was in the papers. Heather would deal with the article however she felt best anyway.
“Congressman Maxwell knows everything that he needs to know in this situation.”
“So no,” Liz said, disappointed.
“Whether or not he knows doesn’t matter to you, because he no longer matters to you as anything more than a congressman in your district. And I’m going to say this once, so listen closely. If you ever cared for Brady at all, then you’ll think twice about what you do from here on out. Are we clear?” she snapped.
“Crystal.”
“Glad to see we’re finally on the same page. Try not to do anything to gain another phone call from me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Liz said sarcastically.
“You’ll do better than that.”
The conversation ended and Liz dropped the phone into her lap. Her hands were shaking. She felt anger bubbling up under the surface. She wanted to release it, but there were only two people she could blame for what had happened: herself and Hayden. Hayden wouldn’t return her calls . . . so that left herself.
Then again, she had the sneaking suspicion that she could blame Calleigh Hollingsworth too.
“So . . . that didn’t sound good,” Victoria said. “Who was that?”
“Heather Ferrington, Brady’s press secretary. She was telling me not to do anything else stupid.”
“Does she think you’re an idiot?”
Liz bit her lip. “Yeah . . . I think she does.”
“Well, bitch needs to step off,” Victoria cried. “And Brady? Are you going to talk to him?”
“She told me not to do anything stupid, Vic. Calling Brady is probably the stupidest thing I could possibly do right now.”
Chapter 23
TRYING TO FORGET
Hayden never called.
Liz held her phone in her hand all evening waiting for him to call her back, but he never did. She knew that he had ruined their relationship, that he had sacrificed her trust and chosen his career over her. Still she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to know why. Why would he do this to her?
She and Brady kissed once while she was dating Hayden. Everything else that had happened was before she and Hayden had even gotten together. She knew that he wasn’t happy that she had hidden it from him, but he’d had no reason to know until she had kissed Brady that night. And now Hayden had ruined everything.
When no one seemed willing to move from the living room, Daniel went out to get dinner for all three of them. He knew that something was wrong. He returned with a plastic bag full of Chinese food and a bottle of Maker’s Mark. Liz smiled when she saw it and reached for it. Victoria got to it first and snatched it out of her hands.
“I’ll just get us some glasses. Eat,” Victoria said.
Liz groaned, but let Victoria take her liquor into the kitchen. She couldn’t keep it hostage forever. Daniel handed her a box of Chinese, and Liz flipped the lid open. She swirled the food around in her takeout container, took a few bites, and then set it back down. She was too jittery to eat. Her stomach couldn’t take it.
Victoria returned with three glasses of Maker’s on the rocks in her hands. She passed one off to Daniel and then set hers down on the side table.
Liz brought the glass to her lips and, taking a long swig, she cringed at the taste and set it back down. “That’s disgusting.”
“It’s delicious,” Daniel said. “Don’t hate on my favorite drink.”
Victoria rolled her eyes at him. “You should probably eat more before drinking more anyway.”
“I’m fine,” Liz lied. She tipped the glass back again. This was going to end poorly.
Two drinks later and the alcohol was numbing her pain. Somehow she convinced Victoria and Daniel that heading to Franklin Street in her condition was a good idea. She wasn’t sure if they actually believed her or if they were just going along with whatever she wanted. She was so pissed off at the entire situation that she really just didn’t care. She would have walked out of the house and gone drinking alone if they hadn’t wanted to come with her.
Wanting to do anything but think about what had happened, Liz took extra special care curling her hair and applying her dark smoky makeup. She changed into the sluttiest outfit in her closet, a skintight black-and-white patterned strapless minidress, which she had to pull down when she was walking, and six-inch leather strappy high heels. Even Victoria would be proud of her.
Liz assessed herself in the mirror and then decided that red lipstick was in order. It wasn’t her normal routine, but, well, she wasn’t really feeling like herself tonight. She was feeling like total shit. She had walked away from one relationship, tried to love another man, been used for the advancement of his career, and still there was no way she could go back to what she had originally walked away from. So, for tonight, nothing really mattered. She just wanted to get rip-roaring drunk and forget that today ever happened.
As she was about to walk out of her bedroom to see if Victoria was ready to go, her phone started ringing loudly from where she had thrown it on her bed. Liz dashed for it, her heart racing. Was it Hayden? Could he finally have manned up? Her heels skittered across the floor and she crashed down onto her bed, snatching the phone off the comforter. She stared down at the screen. Not Ha
yden. Another number she didn’t know. She hoped this wasn’t a reporter, because the two glasses of bourbon weren’t making her friendly.
“Hello?” she said into the phone. She crossed her legs and sat up straighter.
“Liz, it’s been too long,” the smooth, seductive voice said through the line.
Liz’s eyes bugged as she pressed the phone to her ear. “Clay?”
“And I thought for a minute you might not recognize me.”
“Of course I recognize you.” No chance in hell that she wasn’t going to recognize Clay Maxwell. Why was he calling her now?
“So, how have you been? Did you have a nice day?” he asked casually.
Liz narrowed her eyes. No contact for over a year and now he was acting all buddy-buddy.
“What do you want, Clay?” she asked.
“I can’t check in on an old friend?”
“You’ve never called me before.”
“Well, I am now,” he said.
“So, what do you want? I don’t assume that you’re calling me for no reason.”
“I read an article today in the newspaper about my brother. Have you seen it?” Clay asked.
Liz’s mouth went dry. “I saw it,” she said.
“But do you know what I couldn’t stop thinking about, Liz?”
“No,” she whispered.
“You. Liz Carmichael. The girl who showed up at the Fourth of July event and the gala and Hilton Head. Seemed a bit . . . convenient once I started thinking about it.”
Oh shit! Liz couldn’t breathe.
“But when I looked up the UNC registry, there wasn’t a Liz Carmichael either, and the only Liz at the UNC paper was a Liz Dougherty. Strange that you should tell me that your last name was Carmichael. Don’t you think?”
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I never told you that was my last name,” she whispered.
