On the Record

by Linde, K. A.

  Savannah planted her hands on her sides. “Brady Jefferson,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Do I even want to know?”

  “It’s Liz,” he blurted out.

  Savannah’s mouth dropped open and her hands dropped to her sides. “Liz? Like Liz Dougherty, the editor-in-chief at the UNC newspaper? Like the Liz I brought to dinner that one time? My Liz?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, what, you’re not going to beat her up because she claims your girlfriend?” Clay grumbled across the room.

  “She didn’t try to sleep with her!” Brady shot back.

  “Girlfriend? Liz is your girlfriend?” Savannah’s eyes were wide as if she couldn’t seem to process what he was saying.

  “Well, yeah.” Brady shrugged. What else was he going to say? He was going to have to have this conversation one way or another. He just hoped Savannah would understand. No way around it. He wasn’t giving Liz up just because Savi was uncomfortable.

  Savannah wrinkled her nose. “Gross. One of my best friends slept with my brother. I am so going to have words with her! She was the first person I talked to when I found out, and she didn’t even tell me that you were sleeping together. And,” Savannah gasped, “Hayden . . . were you together when . . . ?”

  Brady’s eyes turned molten at that name. He couldn’t even think about Hayden without wanting to put his fist through Hayden’s face and tear him apart limb from limb.

  “No. He is so far out of the picture. He didn’t find out any of it happened—no one did, until the week before the article released.”

  “So . . . how is she your girlfriend? And wait . . . did you just say Clay tried to sleep with her too?” Savannah asked. “Can either of you keep it in your pants?”

  Brady shifted his eyes from Savannah. This was not the conversation he wanted to be having. Getting reprimanded for falling for Liz was out of the question. He had heard it enough from Heather. He had beaten himself up about it. He wasn’t going to listen to it anymore.

  “She’s my girlfriend since yesterday. Everyone is just going to have to get used to the idea. I have to deal with the rest of the world having an opinion, so I just can’t take any more shit right now,” Brady said sternly. He hadn’t meant to snap, but he was so over it already.

  “I wasn’t trying to give you shit,” Savannah said softly. “I like Liz. I’m just shocked. Everyone is going to be shocked.”

  “I know.” He tried to clear his head. “I know. I’m just about to break it to Heather.”

  Savannah cringed. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Brady chuckled at Savannah. He loved his little sister. He hoped no one ever tried to ruin her goodness. “No. I think I’m old enough to tackle my own problems. But thank you.”

  He walked back over to Clay, who stood taller as he approached. He probably thought Brady was going to hit him after all. It would be what the asshole deserved, but he wasn’t going to actually start a fight when he had won in the end anyway.

  “What do you want?” Clay asked.

  “Don’t leave your phone where reporters can take it next time,” Brady said, pulling Clay’s phone out of his pocket and tossing it into his brother’s hands.

  “She took my phone? What a . . .”

  “I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Brady said. He glared at Clay before turning, nodding at Savannah, and walking out of the room. He did have to deal with his own problems. Clay and Savannah now knew. Two down, the rest of the world to go.

  As he walked to the staircase, he wondered about what he should expect from Heather. She had been there since day one, and her opinion had always been important to him . . . until Liz. Heather just couldn’t see clearly about his relationship with her. He knew that it was because she saw Liz as a liability. It didn’t matter now, though, because there was nothing she could do but accept it for what it was.

  As Brady descended the staircase, he saw Elliott standing at the base of the stairs typing away on his iPad. If Brady knew him at all, he was probably trying to get away from Heather.

  “Hey, man,” Brady said as he approached.

  Elliott jumped. “When did you get back?”

  “Not too long ago.”

  “Where the fuck did you go?”

  “Away, but now I’m back and we can deal with all of this.”

  “Good.” Elliott shut down the iPad and tucked it under his arm. “Heather has been driving me mad.”

  “Sounds accurate.”

  “You with that girl again?” Elliott asked all nonchalant as if it didn’t make a difference one way or another.

  Brady laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I am. You going to help me break it to Heather?”

  “I think she’s been preparing to slaughter you all weekend. She’ll come around.” Elliott clapped Brady on the back. “I’m surprised it took you this long.”

  “Stubborn, I guess.”

  Brady never knew how to read Elliott. They had known each other a long time. Sometimes Brady thought the man was going to blow up on him, and other times Elliott was completely chill. Brady was glad to have him as a friend on the occasions when he just rolled with the punches. Made him a good lawyer.

  “Stubborn,” Elliott said with raised eyebrows. “Now who would possibly describe you that way?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Right.”

  “How’d you know I’d go back to her?” Brady asked him. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He hadn’t even known that he would go after her. She had his heart, but fuck, she had messed him up. He had struggled with the decision up until the minute she had gotten into his car.

  “Do you remember what you said to me the day of your primary victory, when I asked you if you really loved her?”

  “I said that it didn’t matter.”

  “Exactly. Frankly it doesn’t matter,” Elliott told him. “You could have said yes and you could have said no, but you said it didn’t matter. Which to me meant it was the only thing that mattered.”

  “She is,” Brady agreed. It had just taken him a while to realize that. Without her, all of his dreams and aspirations seemed flat.

  “Let’s try to convince Heather of that. My advice, for what it’s worth, you might want to just let her get a few good punches in,” Elliott said with a laugh. “She’ll feel bad about it and forgive you quicker.”

  “I like where your head’s at.” This was the reason he kept Elliott around.

  They walked together to the living room, where Heather was hovering over the phone. She looked like a wreck. Her blond hair was still perfectly straight, but it was up into a high ponytail that he had rarely seen her do before. She was short on makeup, and her suit looked like it needed a trip to the dry cleaner’s. Brady had clearly really stressed her out.

  “Heather,” Brady said softly.

  Heather turned around so fast that she looked as if she gave herself whiplash. “Brady! Oh my God, you’re back!”

  “Of course I’m back,” he said with an easy shrug. He wasn’t giving up his career for one scandal.

  “Great. Let’s sit down. We have to figure out our remarks. I need to know what angle we should take. I think personally denying would just be best, but if you think of something different I could work with that. Then I think we should decide about a press conference. Do we want to call for one or should I just release a statement for you? Would that seem like you’re hiding behind the screen?”

  “Whoa!” Brady said, holding his hands up. “Just like that? You want to talk strategy? You don’t want to chew my head off for leaving?”

  Heather stared at him stonily. “What I want and what I think are important for your career are two different things.”

  “Good to be back, Heather,” he said, taking a seat on a chair and grinning at her.

  “Don’t get the two things confus
ed again. I want to smack some sense into you for leaving me knee-deep in this shit, but I know that we need to address this as quickly as possible. I’ll hold back my desire to strangle you until we have some semblance of order again,” she grumbled.

  “I think order is going to be scarce for a while.”

  “I know, but still I think we should . . .” Heather trailed off. “Wait, why? You sound like there’s a reason beyond just the media.”

  “It’s Liz, Heather,” Brady said softly.

  “I know that Sandy Carmichael is Liz, Brady. I’ve already surmised that.”

  “No. Heather,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m back with Liz.”

  “What?” she shrieked. “Brady, are you out of your mind? Her boyfriend wrote the article. It’s libelous. What the fuck are we supposed to tell reporters? Where do I go from here?”

  “We’ll figure it out. We just need a little time for us to decide what to do and then we’ll go public.”

  “Brady, I kind of have to insist as your press secretary that you shouldn’t,” Heather said. She was pacing the room at this point. “Think about how this will look!”

  Brady was going to respond when Heather’s phone started ringing noisily. She snatched it off the table it was resting on and frowned at the number. “Give me a second. It’s probably another reporter.

  “Congressman Maxwell’s office,” she said evenly.

  Brady sighed and rested back in the armchair. Heather was going to be difficult about all of this. He just knew it.

  “No, the Congressman is out.”

  It didn’t matter, though, because the wheels were already in motion. He wasn’t going back on what he had said to Liz.

  “Congressman Maxwell has no comment on the matter of Sandy Carmichael.”

  He wondered how many calls like this Heather had dealt with while he had been gone. Sure, it was her job, but he wished that it all hadn’t happened quite like this. Of course, if it had happened any other way he might not have gotten back with Liz.

  As he watched Heather, her face turned red with frustration. “Yes, Miss Hollingsworth, I know that you want a comment from Congressman Maxwell about your article, but we have no comment. He’s currently unavailable. We’ll reach out to you if we have anything further to say.”

  Fuck! That name. Hadn’t Liz just said that Calleigh Hollingsworth had come to see her in Chapel Hill?

  “Heather,” Brady snapped. “Did you say Hollingsworth? Are you sure?”

  Heather spoke into the phone. “Hold please.” Then looked up at Brady. “Yes, Calleigh Hollingsworth of the Charlotte Times, why?”

  “I’ll take it,” Brady said, standing and reaching for the phone.

  “What? No you will not. I’m your press secretary.”

  “Give me the phone, Heather. I’ll decide for myself if I should comment.”

  “Elliott, talk some sense into him!”

  “It’s going to happen one way or another, Heather. Just give him the phone,” Elliott said.

  She slowly held the phone out with a sigh, clearly looking as if she wanted to jerk it back at any second, but she didn’t. Brady took it from her without any idea what he was about to hear on the other line.

  “Congressman Maxwell speaking,” he said into the phone.

  “Congressman Maxwell, this is Calleigh Hollingsworth with the Charlotte Times.”

  “Yes, Miss Hollingsworth. How can I help you?”

  “I’ve recently discovered the identity of Sandy Carmichael and I wanted your comment on the story. Do you have a comment?”

  “If you’re trying to bait me into discussing whether or not Sandy Carmichael exists, Miss Hollingsworth, you’ll have to do better than that,” Brady said dryly.

  “I’m not baiting anyone. Sandy Carmichael exists. It wasn’t until today that I found out the exact identity of the woman you had an affair with. I personally wanted your comment on the story before I went public with the information.”

  “Miss Hollingsworth, I don’t appreciate your games. You just admitted to writing a negative article about me without having any of the facts, and are now claiming to have the facts, though you have shared none with me, and wish for me to comment on that?” Brady asked. He was tiptoeing around the subject as much as she was. He wouldn’t believe she had information until she put it forth.

  “No. Congressman Maxwell, I want you to make a comment on Sandy Carmichael actually being the fake identity of Liz Dougherty,” Calleigh said snootily.

  Brady was sure that he stopped breathing.

  “No comment?” Calleigh practically taunted.

  “What source do you have for that?” Brady asked. He had to know.

  “Primary source, Congressman. Do you have a comment now?”

  Liz had told her. When was she going to tell him? Just as he had the thought, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Liz’s name light up the screen. Fuck!

  What was he going to do? Had Liz been ready to do this? She had wanted more time. He had been willing to give her more time. God, was he ready for this? He was used to the public, but the scrutiny it would bring going out like this . . . he didn’t know how he was going to deal with it. All he knew at that moment was that he would deal with it.

  That meant he had Liz. That meant they were working on this together. That meant they were together . . . finally. It would all be worth it for that.

  “Yes, Miss Hollingsworth, I’ll make a comment. Liz Dougherty is Sandy Carmichael. We were in a private relationship two summers ago, and we’re in a public one now.”

  Don’t miss the final book in the Record series by K.A. Linde

  Fall 2014

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The campaign is the reason for this series. I could have never written Liz’s story without the knowledge I received from working on the 2012 campaign. I started writing it while holding a clipboard and going door-to-door, at a Delta Rae concert while doing voter registration, out with other campaign workers. They are the life and the soul of the campaign. They secure everything behind the scenes, they make sure things are running smoothly, they are the ones putting together eight-thousand-person events with three days’ notice so that the politician can show up and talk for a few minutes. I hope I conveyed an ounce of that in these books, but they will always mean the world to me because of that time. So thank you for everyone out there who helped make this book a reality: Meera, Gregg, Alex, Maddie, Kane, Greg, Rob, Mary, Susan, Hannah, Daniel, Olivia, Anna, Ralph, Avani, Kathleen, and Kiran.

  As always, I appreciate the people who read early versions of this story and helped kick me into gear when I was staring at a blank page. Jessica and Bridget—thank you for being there every night while I delve into my characters’ minds. Also, Trish and Becky for falling in love with my characters as much as me. I’d like to thank my agent Jane Dystel at Dystel & Goderich Literary Agency, who believed in this series and helped me every step of the way. Thanks to my content editor Tiffany and my Amazon representative JoVon for making the story everything it could be. And I could never forget my boyfriend, Joel, who deals with my manic behavior without complaint while I’m writing and helps with our adorable puppies, Riker and Lucy.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2014 Claire Diana Photography

  K.A. Linde grew up a military brat traveling the United States and Australia. While studying political science and philosophy at the University of Georgia, she founded the Georgia Dance Team, which she still coaches. Post-graduation she served as campus campaign director for the 2012 presidential campaign at UNC Chapel Hill. She is the author of eight novels, including five in the Avoiding series and two in the Record series. An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. lives in Athens, Georgia, with her boyfriend and two puppies, Riker and Lucy.

  inde, K.A., On the Record