On the Record

by Linde, K. A.

  She wanted to see the other two rooms before taking a closer look, so she squeezed past the crowd and into the next section. Liz couldn’t pretend to know much about art, but she did know that these paintings were beautiful.

  Jamie used color and light to create the tone and mood in her paintings. Some were landscapes, others portraits; but each one of them was more awe-inspiring than the next, until Liz found that she couldn’t even compare the splendor of one to another. Liz could write, and the written word could move people to tears or cause them to go to war. But if a picture was worth a thousand words, than Jamie’s were worth ten times that. No wonder she was being thrust into such prominent circles.

  As she walked into the last room, what struck Liz wasn’t the brilliant paintings, though they certainly were incredible, but rather the person standing at the center of the room. She had met the woman only once, but she had made an impression that Liz would surely never forget. From her perfectly coifed platinum-blond hair, to the diamonds in her ears and around her throat, to the excessively expensive dress on her fragile frame, there was no doubt in Liz’s mind that she was staring at Clay Maxwell’s girlfriend, Andrea.

  Liz had met her briefly at Hilton Head while staying at a resort on the coast right before Brady’s primary victory. She had left the resort only long enough to get lunch and had run smack-dab into Brady’s younger brother.

  If Andrea was here, did that mean that Clay would be here? They had first met over the Fourth of July weekend, when he had helped her during her panic attack over Brady—though he hadn’t known the cause—and then he had tried to take her home at Brady’s gala event later that same summer. His charming cocky personality and incredible good looks made him both appealing and irritating. Liz’s heart fluttered, and she wasn’t sure if it was his connection to Brady or fear of him being in the same vicinity as Hayden, who knew nothing about Brady.

  But when she turned to flee, because the thought of encountering Andrea ever again made her a bit nauseous, she ran right into Clay. And Christ, he looked handsome. She was sure her imagination had contrived how attractive he was, but no, definitely not. If anything, she hadn’t done him justice. He wore a navy-blue suit coat, khaki pants, and a blue button-down that made his baby blues pop. His blond hair was styled, and man, those dimples when he smiled. The waves of arrogance that radiated off of him sure knocked him down a few pegs, though.

  “Liz Carmichael,” Clay drawled.

  Oh, shit! Sandy Carmichael had been the fake name that she had used with Brady when they had been hiding their relationship, and Clay was the only person who knew that Carmichael was associated with her, even if he had no idea what it referred to.

  Liz sighed heavily, not even able to hold it in. “Clay Maxwell.”

  His smile only brightened. Was she smiling? No way. She wasn’t happy to see him. He was just another reminder—

  Liz stopped herself and focused on the present . . . like how to get far away from this situation.

  “I haven’t seen you in a long time,” he said.

  “If you missed me, Clay, you could have just called,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. Clay had never used the number he had begged her for back at Brady’s fund-raising gala late last summer. For some reason, besides the blonde bimbo he called his girlfriend standing behind her, it wasn’t a surprise.

  Clay chuckled at her comment, and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. Her last thought had made her painfully aware of exactly where she was. Andrea could come over any second, and Liz didn’t want to deal with her. Not to mention Hayden could walk up. How was she supposed to explain all of this?

  “We’re in the way,” Liz said, walking into a corner on the other side of a wall from Andrea. She didn’t know what to do about Hayden, but she had to eliminate her problems one at a time.

  “Already hauling me off to a corner alone.”

  Liz shook her head. “What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have guessed that you were into art.”

  “Andrea’s a big fan of the artist. She keeps buying her work,” Clay said with a shrug. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since Hilton Head. I thought you were going to be my date for the primary after-party, but you never showed.”

  Liz swallowed hard. Shit. She could not handle this right now. Not after just seeing Brady on TV and having a mental breakdown in the bathroom. She needed to keep the banter light and move away from the topic of Brady. But then again, all they had ever talked about was Brady.

  “You were probably there with your girlfriend anyway. Hardly matters.” Clay opened his mouth for what Liz assumed was going to be another arrogant remark, but she kept going. “Anyway, I happen to know the artist. She’s my boyfriend’s sister.”

  “Ohhh,” Clay said with that same knowing smirk. “Is that why I haven’t seen you at any of Brady’s events?”

  “Something like that,” she said noncommittally.

  “Is the boyfriend here now?” he asked, his eyes searching the room for the prime suspect. “I’d love to meet the guy who is going to be knocking down my door after I take you home with me.”

  Liz bit her lip and laughed softly at Clay. It was strange to feel as if she had missed him and his antics, when she hadn’t ever really spent all that much time with him. But staring into his handsome face, she realized that she definitely had missed him. It made her stomach clench and roll at the life she had given up.

  “So full of yourself,” she murmured.

  “Oh, come on. You’ve been dying to get in my bed since the first time we met.”

  “The first time I met you I was having a panic attack.”

  Brady had just given a speech at a Fourth of July festival and Liz had suddenly realized how much he meant to her, how much the campaign meant to Brady, and that he had won her vote. The feeling had overwhelmed her and Clay had found her, though she hadn’t known he was Brady’s brother at the time.

  “I did say you were dying,” Clay said, reaching out for her hand. She took a step back, letting his hand just barely graze her before retreating out of arm’s distance.

  “You never cease to amaze me.” Her tone was light. It wasn’t as if she was actually angry that he was here. She just needed to get away before Hayden came looking for her.

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  Liz rolled her eyes. As cocky as they came, and yet she still hadn’t walked away.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to your girlfriend,” Liz said, the emphasis on girlfriend.

  “Are you really going to turn me down again?” he asked, stepping closer to her once more.

  “One day you’ll get the hint.”

  “But not today,” Clay said with a smirk.

  “There you are, Lizzie,” Hayden said from behind her.

  Her face fell. She had been so close to leaving, but not close enough.

  And the way Clay was looking at her just then spoke volumes. He knew that something was up, or at the very least that she didn’t want to be seen with him. She could punch him for that smug look, and she just hoped he kept his goddamn mouth closed.

  Hayden wrapped an arm around her shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips. Huh. Was he showing signs of jealousy? Oh, it was so cute on him.

  “Who’s your friend?” Hayden asked.

  “This is Clay,” Liz said.

  Hayden stuck his hand out in introduction. “Nice to meet you. I’m Hayden Lane.”

  “Clay Maxwell,” Clay said, shaking Hayden’s hand firmly.

  Hayden looked back and forth between Clay and Liz in surprise at the name. Liz bit her tongue. She would let him figure it out, and hope he didn’t ask her questions later about how she personally knew Clay Maxwell.

  “Maxwell. Like Senator Brady Maxwell’s brother?”

  “Ah. Representative Maxwell,” Clay corrected.

 
Oh, so now he was going to defend his brother?

  “Well, it’s great to have you here,” Hayden said, producing that smile that always won everyone over.

  “Thanks. You’re the brother of the artist, correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Jamie is wandering about here somewhere,” Hayden said. He glanced around the room as if thinking about her would make her materialize before his eyes. And that was when it hit her: Hayden had stopped the jealous-boyfriend act as soon as he realized that Clay was potentially influential.

  “I’m sure my girlfriend would love to meet her,” Clay said.

  “I’d be happy to introduce the two,” Hayden responded.

  And that was how Liz’s night turned torturous. She could see written all over Clay’s devious face that he was going to use the opportunity to stick close by.

  They located Andrea, who didn’t seem to remember Liz from that chance encounter on Hilton Head back in August. That was lucky. Then they went to find Jamie, who was incredibly excited to finally meet her favorite fan. Apparently they had been chatting back and forth between the curator of the gallery who had procured Jamie’s artwork for Andrea.

  Liz followed them around for another hour as Andrea gushed over Jamie’s talent. Clay and Hayden spoke cordially about everything from the newspaper to Brady’s election to Clay’s experience at Yale to the weather. Liz interjected only when she thought that it was veering too close to talk of Brady, but Clay didn’t know that she had been with Brady over the summer, so it wasn’t like that could come up. It turned out by the end of the conversation that she had freaked out for nothing.

  Andrea purchased ten of Jamie’s paintings out of a single collection, and told Jamie that she would be a collector for life. Liz couldn’t even think of ten walls in her house where she could hang artwork. Then again, Andrea had a trust fund, and was dating a man who would most certainly move on to become a very prominent attorney . . . she probably had a bigger house than the one Liz lived in.

  Clay shook Hayden’s hand as Andrea started for the door. Liz moved forward to say good-bye, but Clay pulled her aside. Hayden moved to talk to Jamie and didn’t even object to his girlfriend being taken away. She figured Clay must have charmed him in a way that only the Maxwell men were capable of.

  “So,” Clay said as they walked slowly toward the exit.

  “So,” she repeated.

  “He’s in love with you.”

  “What?” Liz snapped. She hadn’t been expecting that at all. Which was likely why he had said it.

  “Yeah. I’ll be in town the next two days. We should find time to meet up again.”

  Liz shook her head, still dazed from his assumption. “I’m not going to meet up with you. I know what that entails.”

  “But you don’t love him,” Clay said, turning to face Liz.

  “We haven’t been dating that long. Ugh! Why am I even justifying any of this to you?” she asked, turning to go.

  “Hey. Don’t be angry.” He grabbed her elbow. “It really is good to see you.”

  “Still not going home with you, Clay.”

  He smiled in that way that made his dimples appear. “Next time then.”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “Good luck.”

  “I don’t need luck,” he said with a wink as he walked back toward Andrea.

  Liz watched him walk out of the art exhibition. Her whole body trembled with the exertion of keeping herself together. Clay riled her up so easily, but she wouldn’t let him get to her.

  So she didn’t love Hayden. She didn’t have to love someone she had only been dating for two months. It didn’t matter that she had fallen for Brady in a similar amount of time. She couldn’t compare the two men. She needed to stop doing it. Right. Now.

  “Hey,” Hayden said, walking up behind her and whispering into her ear. She nearly jumped out of her skin and he just laughed. “Come with me.”

  “All right,” she said, taking a deep breath and turning away from the exit.

  “Thanks for introducing me to Clay. He seems like a good guy.”

  Liz held in her hmph.

  “Jamie is freaking out about his girlfriend’s purchase.”

  “That’s good,” she said. At least someone had gotten something out of the day’s events.

  “Will you just stand over here with Jamie for a minute?” Hayden asked.

  “Why?”

  Hayden smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into a hug. She breathed into him, feeling every ounce of what Clay had said washing over her.

  Christ, he loves me.

  “Just trust me,” Hayden said softly. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Liz walked over and stood next to Jamie, who was chatting enthusiastically with Meredith about the event. Liz heard Andrea’s name come up at least five times while she was waiting.

  The room had cleared out already. Liz hadn’t realized it was going to be such a short event, but apparently the exhibition stayed open for a couple months. The grand opening was just the initial preview. Jamie said that she had never sold more than one piece opening night. And besides Andrea’s purchases, two other couples had each bought a painting from the collection. Jamie was stunned and excited that her work was finally gaining momentum, and she couldn’t stop bouncing from foot to foot like a little fairy.

  Hayden reappeared a couple minutes later with James, holding on to a nice bottle of champagne and some glasses. He popped it open and handed out the glasses. Jamie giggled the entire time, glowing radiantly from the celebration and forgetting how badly champagne had treated her the night before.

  “I would like to propose a toast,” James said, his hand shaking lightly as he held his flute out. Everyone followed his lead and raised their glasses into the air. “To my beautiful girlfriend . . . and her successful art exhibition. Just the start . . . to a long-lasting career for the . . . brilliant artist I have come to love.”

  Liz smiled at the glowing couple. James had had trouble getting some of the words out; he was practically stammering. It was the most adorable thing she had ever seen. He was so proud of her that he could barely even speak. Jamie let out an aww at his speech.

  “To Jamie!” the group chorused, and they all tipped their champagne glasses in a toast.

  “Y’all are too sweet,” Jamie crooned.

  James handed Hayden his glass of champagne and then sank to his knee right in the middle of the art exhibition. Jamie stared at him, shocked, and then looked around as if she couldn’t believe what was going on.

  “Jamie,” James began softly, “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you. I have loved you every day since. And I want to love you every single day after that. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asked, producing a black box from his pocket.

  Jamie screamed at the top of her lungs and launched herself at him. Her glass toppled to the ground, discarded in her haste. It landed on the wood and shattered, but Jamie didn’t give it a second glance. Her arms were wrapped around James’s neck and he was struggling to stand as he laughed at her enthusiasm. Liz could see that through her excitement, Jamie’s body was shaking with tears.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Jamie said over and over again. “I can’t believe this. Yes! I want to marry you. Yes!”

  He laughed and kissed her full on the mouth.

  Without even knowing it, Liz had moved closer to Hayden. He was looking straight at her and Liz just smiled. “You knew,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Liz watched as James plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto Jamie’s finger. Jamie jumped around in circles before thrusting her hand out to Meredith and then Liz in between squeals.

  Liz couldn’t think of a couple that she thought should be married more than Jamie and Jam
es. They just worked. They weren’t rushing into things, and they weren’t doing it for the wrong reasons. Liz could tell that it was going to really last. And she was so happy to have witnessed their moment, even if she had this strange feeling creeping through her . . . as if she couldn’t imagine herself going through that anytime soon.

  She shook that thought away. It was probably just residual jitters from Clay’s comments. Who really knew whether they wanted to marry someone after only two months anyway?

  Chapter 5

  ALL THE WRONG REASONS

  Thank you all so much! Next week we will be discussing the new digital age, so please be sure to read chapters six and seven in the textbook and the three articles assigned on the syllabus,” Professor Mires yelled over the shuffling of students stuffing everything into their backpacks at the end of class. “Please remember to turn in your assignment here on my desk. I’ve graded last week’s papers and they are sitting in alphabetical order over here.” She placed a stack of papers, likely bleeding red ink, on the other side of the desk. School had started three weeks ago and this was already their third round of papers.

  Liz closed her computer with a sigh. Professor Mires had recommended that she take her upper-level political journalism class in the spring after Liz had excelled in the news writing and editing prerequisites and then the special topics class she had taken over the summer. She had wanted to take the professor’s class anyway, so it was an easy yes, but she wasn’t quite prepared for how much extra time she would be spending.

  Professor Mires had also engineered an extra three-hour course as a field credit to prepare for the political journalism colloquium that she and Liz were orchestrating at the university for the end of the semester. Plus Liz had research hours assisting the professor with the papers she was sending out for publication. Add aiding Massey with running the Washington division of the newspaper and Hayden’s insistence on pushing for her to be editor, and it was no surprise that Liz was a bit overwhelmed.