by Linde, K. A.
Also by K.A. Linde
The Record Series
Off the Record
The Avoiding Series
Avoiding Commitment (#1)
Avoiding Decisions (#1.5)
Avoiding Responsibility (#2)
Avoiding Intimacy (#2.5)
Avoiding Temptation (#3)
Following Me
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2014 K.A. Linde
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
ISBN-13: 9781477823880
ISBN-10: 1477823883
Cover design by Laura Klynstra
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014901936
To The Campaign. For yard signs, Ye Olde, and meta conversations.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1 ELECTION DAY
Chapter 2 CHRISTMAS BOMB
Chapter 3 ALL THAT MATTERS
Chapter 4 VISION
Chapter 5 ALL THE WRONG REASONS
Chapter 6 TRUST FOSTERS TRUST
Chapter 7 CONFLICT OF INTEREST
Chapter 8 SNOW DAY
Chapter 9 Q&A
Chapter 10 BIN 54
Chapter 11 INTERVIEW
Chapter 12 TWENTY-FIRST
Chapter 13 SLIP THROUGH THEIR FINGERTIPS
Chapter 14 EDITOR
Chapter 15 DROPPING THE BALL
Chapter 16 NOTHING ELSE EVER HAD
Chapter 17 REMEMBERING HISTORY
Chapter 18 LOUD AND CLEAR
Chapter 19 THE BOUTIQUE
Chapter 20 THE BANQUET
Chapter 21 HE HAD IT COMING
Chapter 22 MELODRAMA
Chapter 23 TRYING TO FORGET
Chapter 24 MISTAKES WORTH MAKING
Chapter 25 TALK FIRST
Chapter 26 ACT LATER
Chapter 27 OATMEAL
Chapter 28 AROUND THE BLOCK
Chapter 29 MISDIRECTION
Chapter 30 HIGH STRESS
Chapter 31 BRADY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
ELECTION DAY
I can’t believe you dragged me to this party,” Victoria said.
Liz’s best friend was standing against the bar with a drink in her hot-pink-manicured hand. She looked as gorgeous as ever in a skintight black dress covering her voluptuous body, and bright red heels to match her cherry red lips.
“You’re the one who said that you wanted to go out with me tonight,” Liz reminded her.
“I didn’t know it was to a newspaper party . . . on election night.” Victoria tossed her dark brown hair off her shoulder and looked at Liz beneath thick black lashes coated in mascara.
“I’ve only been working toward this, oh, I don’t know, all year.”
Victoria shrugged. “Some things are important to you and some things are important to me. At least we both agree on alcohol,” she said, holding up her glass.
Liz giggled and took a sip of her drink. “Liking the effects of alcohol and liking alcohol are two different things.”
“That’s like saying liking the way Hayden kissed you and liking Hayden are two different things.”
“Coming from the girl who will kiss anyone!” Liz cried. Gah! Did Victoria have to bring this up again? How often had they had this conversation since she and her editor at the paper had shared that heated kiss over the summer?
Giving up Brady had been bad enough.
Her affair with the State Senator Brady Maxwell had lasted the length of the summer, and in that span of time she had fallen unequivocally in love with him. In love with a man whom she couldn’t be with because she was a reporter, a liability to the campaign, a liability to everything he had worked for. And then on the night of his primary victory Brady had given his acceptance speech, proclaiming her, in all but name, as the person who had made him believe completely in this journey he was on. It was in that moment of clarity that she had known what she had to do.
If she forced Brady to decide between her and the campaign, it would have hurt him; and if he chose her and lost the campaign, he would resent her. She hadn’t been okay with either of those scenarios. So Liz had taken the choice into her own hands and walked out on him, and she hadn’t heard from Brady in the two and half months since she had left. Two and a half agonizing months.
“I can kiss whoever I want, Liz,” Victoria said.
“Like the Duke Fan?” Liz chided, shuddering.
“Yes, I can’t believe you are so freaked out that I went on a date with someone who goes to Duke.” Liz just shrugged. “And anyway, you’re the one swooning over your Hayden Lane.”
Liz’s eyes shifted from Victoria to Hayden, standing only a few feet away lost in conversation. If he heard a whisper of this, Liz would kill Victoria.
She wasn’t ready for a relationship or really anything else with Hayden—or anyone. Victoria didn’t understand why, but then again, she didn’t know that the guy Liz had been seeing over the summer had been Brady Maxwell. No one did. Certainly not Hayden. He didn’t even know she’d been seeing someone.
That had made it difficult to explain why she wouldn’t go out with him. It wasn’t like she could just come out and say she was too emotionally bruised by a certain sitting State Senator and was stupidly hoping that he might come find her. She had tried sidestepping Hayden when he had asked her out, but then she’d had to tell him something, and none of her excuses seemed to be good enough. How long could she keep a guy at bay after kissing him the way she had in front of the Lincoln Memorial in D.C.?
“Swooning?” Liz shook her head, trying to keep her voice down. “Are you serious?”
“He’s been flirting with you all night, Lizzie.” Victoria batted her eyes at Liz.
“Oh, stop calling me that.”
“He won’t.”
That was the truth. Hayden hadn’t stopped calling her Lizzie since that night they’d kissed over the summer. Victoria found it hilarious and always poked fun at Hayden whenever she could.
“You’re insufferable. You know that, right?”
Victoria smiled in a way that said more than even her perfectly arched eyebrow. Liz didn’t know why she let her best friend get to her so easily. She wasn’t ready to move on. She wasn’t over Brady Maxwell . . . as much as she wanted to let go. Their relationship had been too important for her to just easily move on to someone else. Perhaps that was silly.
“Well, if you won’t make a move, then maybe I should,” Victoria suggested, like she had just thought of it.
“Hayden’s not even your type.”
“Type?” Victoria asked. “What is this thing you speak of?”
“He’s not currently working toward or already has a PhD.”
“Well, yeah, he’s not smart enough for me. That’s obvious,” Victoria said.
Liz rolled her eyes.
“But I think I wouldn’t mind a piece of a tall, fit runner for a change,” Victoria said, taking a step forward.
“Victoria!” Liz snapped, blocking her path. “Cut it out.”
“Oh, come on, Liz. Have some fun.”
“Not that kind of fu
n.” The last thing she wanted was for Victoria to embarrass her in front of all of her colleagues. And, well, even if she wasn’t sure she was ready to move past what had happened with Brady, that certainly didn’t mean she wanted Victoria to make a pass at Hayden.
“Why not? Just go home with him. Have a good fuck and move on from the summer. The summer is over. You can’t change anything that happened, but you don’t have to let it make your decisions for you.”
“I’m not,” Liz said, but there was no conviction in her voice. How could she ever explain? Letting Brady go felt like a bigger loss than just walking out of the primary party. But she had walked out. She had made her own decision, and it didn’t sit well with her that Victoria implied that she was still allowing Brady to control her.
Tristan, one of her freshman helpers at the college paper, came running into the room and broke through her thoughts. He craned his neck around, and Liz waved her hand in the air to signal him. He darted over and stood before her in perfectly pressed khaki pants, a navy polo, and a black jacket. The only thing giving away that he had been in a rush was the wave at the crest of his typically flawless hair, and the bead of sweat forming at his temple.
“Dougherty,” Tristan said to Liz in greeting. She had been able to break him of the formal Miss that had gone before that for the first month or more of his working for her. But now, even when they were just out with friends, she couldn’t break him of the habit of addressing her simply by her last name.
“What did you find?” Liz asked.
“I have the results for the precincts you requested.”
Liz looked over Tristan’s shoulder to find Hayden only a few feet away from her. “Hayden!” she called. Their eyes locked and he smiled that heart-stopping smile before hurrying over to stand just a bit closer.
“Does he have the results?” he asked Liz. He was all business too. It was why they worked well together. It was why they had always worked well together. And it was one of the reasons she had liked him the past two years. She would have given anything for Hayden to make a move before Brady.
Before Brady.
It was like a constant mantra. She forced those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the business at hand.
Tristan nodded, pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and handed it to his bosses.
Liz scanned the list, her stomach somersaulting. She couldn’t believe what she saw. “All but one precinct,” she whispered.
Hayden flashed her a smile. “Just like you predicted.”
“Not Meriweather precinct, because they always run opposite the Maxwells,” she murmured.
“You said that too,” Hayden encouraged.
It wasn’t the entire fourth district by a long shot, but the few precincts that they had been watching in Chapel Hill had swung for Brady. Maybe that would swing the whole district, if the boost in student voting on campus was any indication.
She would find out soon enough.
“This is great, Tristan,” Liz said. She was close to shaking, she was so emotional and conflicted. She wanted Brady to win. She didn’t want it to all be for naught. It just felt like this day had taken forever to get to . . . and they still had to wait for the official announcement.
“You said from day one that our politician would win,” Hayden said.
“Well, he hasn’t won yet. Tristan, will you write up something short for tomorrow with this information, along with the official results?”
“Of course, Dougherty. On it.” With that Tristan turned and started for the door.
Liz sighed and ran after him. “Hey, you don’t have to go now,” she said, modulating her no-nonsense tone. Sometimes she forgot that Tristan was just a freshman, the paper wasn’t his real job, and she wasn’t his real boss. He wasn’t getting paid for this, and he probably wanted to celebrate too.
“Don’t you want that article?” Tristan asked.
“Why don’t you stay and wait for the election results to come in? You can party with the rest of us.”
He looked at her in wonder, like Liz had just given him a huge privilege. She really must have been working her staff hard if he was this appreciative. “That sounds great, Dougherty. I’ll still be sure to get that article to you. I could run out and get my computer while we’re waiting, if you think that will help.”
“Maybe you should just get a drink,” Liz suggested.
He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t drink, but thanks for the offer. I think I’ll grab my computer anyway.”
Liz watched him depart, wondering if she had been that determined and strong-willed as a freshman. She didn’t remember it quite like that, but she probably had been.
“Hey,” Hayden said, coming up behind Liz.
“Hey.” She swiveled in place and came face-to-face with his intriguing hazel eyes. They were leaning more toward green rather than brown tonight. He looked good in gray slacks and a green button-down, loose at the neck. Dressy but casual.
“You’ve done a great job with your team.”
“Thanks,” Liz said, flushing.
“Do you know what you want to do next semester?”
Liz scuffed her foot on the floor. She hadn’t wanted to think about that yet. The campaign would be over and she would have to fall into place somewhere else on the paper.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Where do you want me?”
His answering smile made her flush even further, but she didn’t dare break eye contact.
“On the paper . . . that is,” she muttered. Way to make it even more embarrassing.
“I was thinking of moving you and your team over to Massey’s Washington division. I’d still like some focus on whoever wins these races, and your team already knows them.”
He wanted her to continue to follow Brady . . .
Hayden must have seen something on her face, because he started backpedaling. “Unless you don’t want to work with Massey . . .”
“The Washington division sounds great,” she quickly corrected. She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t like Massey or that she wasn’t serious about her role at the paper.
“I had thought . . . that you might work with me some too,” Hayden said.
Liz arched an eyebrow.
“I still think you could be editor after I leave.”
Liz’s breath caught in her throat. Editor. It was her dream, what she had been working toward. But was he giving it to her because he liked her or because she deserved it? “Are you sure you want me for the job?”
“Yes, I’m sure I want you,” he answered quickly. “For the job.”
“All right. Well, I could work with you then,” she said, her head buzzing.
Liz couldn’t believe how much a few months had changed everything. She remembered her first press conference. The anticipation had killed her as she waited for State Senator Brady Maxwell III to walk out onto the stage. She’d had no thought that she would get to ask a question, or that that very moment would change her life. She had just been an untested reporter hoping to catch a break.
Now Hayden was pushing for her to be editor after he graduated. She knew that he had said she was capable of it that same day after the conference, but it was different hearing that he wanted to start preparing her to take the job. The very notion sent a shiver down her spine.
Liz caught Victoria eyeing her from the bar. She was sure she knew what Victoria was thinking . . . that Liz was taking her advice. It would be easy to return Hayden’s flirtatious smiles and cute comments. It wasn’t like she didn’t like Hayden . . . hadn’t always liked Hayden. But still, she stepped away from him instead of into him when he moved toward her.
Hayden’s smile didn’t falter, but she could see him straining to keep it on his face. Liz didn’t know why he hadn’t given up on her yet. One kiss wasn’t enough to keep a guy’s inter
est for this long. The way he looked at her, though . . .
Liz shifted her attention back to the television screens just as the announcers started broadcasting the latest results. She held her breath as she waited for them to show North Carolina.
“The Cunningham-Maxwell race that we’ve been following still doesn’t have full results in just yet,” the news broadcaster reported. “From the looks of what we do have it’s a pretty tight race down there. The front-runner, Cunningham, appears to have the lead by a small margin, but it’s a toss-up if I’ve ever seen one. We’ll keep our eye on that one, but in the meantime, let’s take a look at the open seat race in Pennsylvania.”
Liz breathed out heavily. She wanted the results, and the waiting game was frustrating.
“Going to be close,” Hayden said, walking with her back to the bar.
“We always knew that.”
“Those results Tristan had make me think Maxwell’s going to pull it out. You said it from the beginning, but it’s different having the proof in my hands.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. The culmination of a lot of hard work and ambition on Brady’s part. He’d been born and bred for this role . . . born and bred to be president. He had convinced her of that. Liz shook her head. She needed to get Brady Maxwell out of her thoughts. After tonight that would be her mission. After he won . . . He had to win!
“Are you two going to have a shot with me or what?” Victoria yelled. She reached out and latched on to Liz’s arm and dragged her back to the bar. “Come on, Lane. Hurry up!”
Hayden shuffled forward with a barely suppressed eye roll. “Whatever you say, Vickie.”
“Liz, make him stop,” Victoria whined just before shoving a shot into both of their hands.
Liz turned her back to the bar, cocking her head to the side as she stared at him. God, he looked good tonight! “Hayden, play nice.”
“I always play nice, Liz.”
Victoria thrust her shot glass up into the air between them and they both followed suit. “I’ll toast this one to Liz.”
“Me?” Liz asked, widening her eyes.
“To the chick who worked her ass off for this moment. May the best man win,” Victoria said with a flourish.
