Struck from the Record

by K. A. Linde

  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 wonder 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 his 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 stuttered 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 entire 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 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.”

  Calleigh Hollingsworth was complimenting her. She might die.

  “Oh, I don’t think I actually stumped him.”

  “He hesitated, honey. That’s enough for me,” Calleigh told her before shifting her attention back to Hayden. “Some other reporters are coming with me to get a drink. I’ve already told them you’re coming with and they’re excited to meet you.”

  “I’m really not up for it, Calleigh. We have to get this story out,” he offered.

  “No way. Unacceptable, Lane. I’ll see you tonight. Liz, you are more than welcome, of course,” she said politely.

  Liz looked at Hayden expectantly. She wouldn’t mind mingling with other reporters, but if they needed to work on the story she would go back with him. “What do you want to do?”

  He shrugged, clearly preferring to leave.

  “You’re not even running the story until Monday,” Calleigh told him stubbornly. She placed her hand on her hip and sat into the movement. “Come out and play. You’re too uptight.”

  “All right. If Liz wants to go, then I’m game. Otherwise I’ll just drive home and work on the piece.”

  “Liz?” Calleigh asked pleading with her big green eyes.

  “Uh . . . yeah. Sounds like fun.”

  “Great! I’ll text you the details, Lane, and see you later,” she said, waggling her fingers at him as she departed.

  Hayden sighed and readjusted his bag on his shoulder. “I guess we’re going out.”

  “Sorry,” Liz said. She followed him out the door.

  “Don’t be. It wasn’t likely that I would have been able to get out of it anyway. At least I have company now.” Liz smiled, butterflies jumping around in her stomach. “Do you want to go get dinner? It’ll probably still be a few hours before they go out.”

  “Uh . . . yeah, sure,” she said. Was he asking her out?

  “Cool.” They walked into the half-full parking lot and veered toward his black Audi. Liz took a seat as Hayden popped the trunk open and deposited his equipment before opening the door and sliding onto the leather seat.

  “Do you have a preference for dinner? I’m really craving Italian.”

  “Fine with me,” she agreed easily. She didn’t know how to judge the situation.

  It didn’t help that her mind was still captured by the Senator. The way his eyes found her in the crowd, the tone of his deep, husky voice, the borderline arrogance in his every movement was
so . . . appealing in a way she had never even known before. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been attracted to a bad boy in the past, and that was exactly what Maxwell portrayed under that charm, but she didn’t know whether he really was that bad boy underneath the image of the upright senator.

  It was a paradox she wanted reconciled. Who exactly was Brady Maxwell?

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I want to thank my husband, Joel. Despite himself, he loved Clay and truly helped me mold and shape this character. Without him, I might have gone crazy through this entire process. I’m very grateful to have someone so understanding of my career and the men that I create. Also, for taking care of the cutest puppies in the world when I was engrossed in this story.

  This book wasn’t created in a vacuum nor did it get into readers’ hands without the assistance of a group of incredible women. Thank you Rebecca Kimmerling and Katie Miller, who read this book chapter by chapter throughout the entire process. I appreciate all the late nights, the brainstorming sessions, the message after message after message during rewrites and edits, and the continual joy and appreciation for the project. Thank you Polly Matthews for loving my bad boy, even when you didn’t think you would, and for giving me your particularly picky input on my guy. My wonderful beta readers—Holly Malgieri and Autumn Review—I couldn’t have done this without you! Christy Peckham and Anjee Sapp, I appreciate you giving me another set of eyes and always supporting me!

  Thank you for the tireless support of my agent, Kimberly Brower. You helped mold this book, even through the self-publishing process. I appreciate all the content edits, early morning breakfast conversations about marketing, and the innumerable emails back and forth to make sure this was right. Danielle Sanchez, the queen of PR! You know I’ve gone through hell and back with publicity, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have your beautiful face working with me on this project!

  To all of the advocates for this book behind the scenes—Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing for editing and formatting (thank you for being so flexible!!!), Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for the wonderful design that held true to the originals and yet breathed life into the series, Lauren Perry at Perrywinkle Photography for the amazing work with the model for this book and your incredibly wonderful heart! Also, my Linde #squad girls who championed this book from the start! I couldn’t have done it without you guys!