Текст книги "Off the Record"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter 20
AN EMOTIONAL TRIGGER

Liz pulled out her phone as soon as the cab drove off. She tapped Carmichael from her contact list and waited for Brady’s secretary to answer. The campaign never slept, and Brady always had someone working the phones so he wouldn’t miss anything important.

“Senator Maxwell’s office. How may I help you?” his secretary answered.

“Sandy Carmichael for the Senator, please,” she chirped.

His secretary paused slightly on the other line before responding, “Yes, Ms. Carmichael. One moment.”

Liz froze at the way she said her name. Brady had had the same secretary all summer. Liz wondered whether Nancy knew in some way…about her and Brady. She couldn’t know for certain, but Liz used this line several times a week lately. She should probably mention it to Brady, but she didn’t want to freak him out. Maybe it was better to tell him than take a risk.

“Ms. Carmichael, how nice to hear from you,” Brady said into the phone. Liz squirmed where she stood at the sound of his voice. She was pretty drunk and ready for him to come pick her up already.

“Please tell me you’re not still at the office.”

“I’m in Chapel Hill, actually.”

“Perfect. I’m drunk on Franklin Street. Come pick me up. I want you…now,” she demanded. She took a step forward, stumbled, and latched on to a bench nearby. She giggled into the phone like tripping was the funniest thing she had ever done.

“Baby, how drunk are you?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

“Just come get me. I’m going to try to walk to the main bus stop,” Liz said, looking at it only a block down the street.

“Maybe you shouldn’t move.” Liz heard his engine rev through the line and smiled.

“Maybe I shouldn’t, but you might not find me.”

“I’ll find you.”

“I’ll be at the bus stop.”

“Be safe.”

Liz narrowed her eyes at the bus stop to keep it from moving and then tried putting one foot in front of the other. It was harder than it looked. Whatever that last drink had been that Victoria had ordered had fucked her up. She needed some water. She glanced over at the store and thought about going in and getting a water bottle. She shook her head. No, she had to meet Brady, and she didn’t trust herself to make it inside and back to the bus stop.

She reached the first post at the bus stop and gripped it until she was steady. This was good enough. Holding on to the post made her feel better, more grounded. Her mind started clearing as long as she kept up deep breaths. She didn’t want to be sloppy when she was with Brady.

A sleek black Lexus pulled up in front of the bus stop, and Liz smiled. There was her ride.

The ten minutes holding on to the bus stop post had helped her addled mind, and she was able to more nimbly walk around the vehicle. She opened the car door and slid into the black leather passenger seat. It smelled like Brady—primal, enticing, and powerful. If that were a specific smell, she would only associate it with Brady.

He pulled away from the bus stop as soon as her door closed. She tilted her head back and stared at him. She reached out and laced their fingers together. He didn’t let go and instead held her hand in his lap. It felt natural, as if he had always been doing it.

“I’m glad you called,” he said.

“Me too,” she said, tracing her thumb in circles on his hand. Whatever had hit her so hard at the bar was fading away to a nice numbness.

“I have a surprise for you, if you’re up for it,” he said, glancing over at her.

“A surprise?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. The last big surprise had been the lake house. What other surprise could he have up his sleeve? “We’re not going to the lake, are we?”

“No. This is better. More important to me.”

Important. That was a big word. “I sure hope that surprise involves a bed.”

Brady chuckled and shook his head. “I’m glad you had fun. How drunk are you, anyway?”

“Gone,” she whispered.

“Are you feeling up to something else? Or should I take you home?” he asked, concerned.

“At least take me to a hotel so I can sleep with you.” She scooted over and rested her head on his shoulder. She was surprised, having not looked at anything aside from his handsome face, that she wasn’t resting on a suit. “You’re wearing a T-shirt,” she mused.

“I do own those,” he said, trying to hold in his laughter.

“You should wear them more often.”

“Are you trying to get me out of my suit?”

“Don’t I always?” she asked with a giggle.

“I think you need some water,” Brady said, turning to the side and kissing the top of her head.

“I was going to get some, but I didn’t know how far away you were. Where are we going anyway?”

“You’ll see. Do you need me to stop?” he asked her.

“No. I’ll be okay,” she told him.

“All right. But you have to drink some water when we get there.”

“I can do that. How far away are we?” She had no idea where they were going, and Brady didn’t seem ready to give out any clues. She just wanted to go somewhere where they could be alone. She preferred it that way; then there wouldn’t be any tension holding them back.

“Not too far. Maybe twenty to thirty minutes. Just relax. We’ll be there soon,” he told her. Liz nodded, nuzzled into his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“Baby,” Brady whispered against her hair, “it’s time to wake up.”

Liz fluttered her eyes open and yawned. She hadn’t even realized that she had fallen asleep, but she had been completely out of it for the entire car ride.

They rounded a corner into a complex of brick townhomes. This was a nice area with well-groomed lawns, a gate around the entrance, and rows of clean cars. This certainly wasn’t student housing. Brady pulled into a spot in front of one of the buildings and cut the engine. Liz looked around, suddenly feeling much more sober than she had when she had first gotten into the car.

Liz looked at Brady in confusion. “Where are we?”

Brady was smiling from ear to ear. He was beyond happy at the moment, and she didn’t know why.

“I’ll show you,” Brady said, exiting the car and coming around the side to help her out.

Brady opened the door for her and she took his hand as she stood. Seemed that the car ride had helped sober her up more than she thought. She wasn’t even that wobbly on her feet. She could still use some water, though. She didn’t want to get sick later.

He slid her hand in the crook of his elbow. Liz looked down in surprise, then around the apartment complex, as if she was worried they might be watched. “Brady, is this all right?” she asked, knowing he would get what she meant.

“Right now. It’s fine. Calm down,” he said with a smile.

Liz walked with him up the stairs to the second floor of one of the buildings. Her earlier buzz had dissipated, and she didn’t like not knowing what she was getting herself into.

Brady knocked on the door twice, and they waited there for someone to answer.

A couple minutes later, the door swung inward and a tall guy with sandy brown hair answered the door. He was wearing a UNC T-shirt and khaki shorts despite the late hour. He smiled when he saw who was at the door. “Brady! Man, I thought you were never going to show!” the guy said as the two hugged each other with pats on the back.

“Sorry. Had to pick up someone along the way,” Brady told him.

Liz was thoroughly confused. Wasn’t Brady going to freak out? Who was this guy? And why was Brady allowing them to be seen together? It felt odd standing there as the two guys acted completely normal.

“Come on inside,” the guy said, ushering them through the door, closing it firmly behind them, and locking it.

Liz walked down a hallway and into a modern-looking living room with an enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. His furniture was low to the ground in blacks and whites and a splash of blue here and there.

Brady smiled big and pulled her into his arms as the guy walked into the kitchen. She complied, though she was sure she looked thoroughly confused. What about their closely guarded secret? “Liz,” he said, bending and kissing her lips lightly, “this is my surprise.”

“Um…” she said, not sure what to say.

He released her as the guy walked back into the room with a glass of water. “Brady said you might need this.”

Liz took it out of his hand. “Thank you.”

“Liz, I’d like to introduce you to my best friend, Chris. Chris, this is Liz, the girl I was telling you about,” Brady said.

She was meeting someone. She was actually meeting someone in Brady’s life—even if they were meeting in secret, in the middle of the night, at his place so that no one would know about it. This was good. This was a step. That meant that someone knew about her…someone important in his life. That must make her important in his life too.

“So nice to meet you,” she said, switching the glass over to her left hand and shaking with her right.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“He mentions you in his speeches,” she said, dropping her hand and thinking of the only time Brady had mentioned Chris around her.

Chris pinned Brady with a glare. “You’re still using that same old shit? Can’t you come up with something original? I moved to New York, just get over it,” he said, shaking his head, then turning back to Liz. “He’s such a sap.”

A sap. Liz would have never in a million years described Brady as sappy.

“People like to hear that I made the right choice by sticking around. You’re a good emotional trigger, or so the speechwriter tells me. Plus, you shouldn’t have moved so far away.”

“If I hadn’t moved, what would you have talked about?” Chris asked.

Brady shrugged. “I’m sure I could have thought of something else to make fun of you for.”

Liz stared between the two guys. She had never seen Brady act like this. Was he actually cracking jokes and laughing at himself? She had always thought he was pretty serious. Sometimes he was sarcastic with her, but that was dry humor…totally different from this.

“Seriously, convince your speechwriter to come up with new material. People are going to start noticing how full of shit you are,” Chris said as he walked past Brady and took a seat on the couch. Liz giggled and then covered her mouth quickly.

“I’ll pass along the message,” Brady said, shaking his head. He turned back to Liz with a bright, breathtaking smile on his face. He looked so happy and relaxed. “What were you laughing at, huh?”

“Oh nothing,” she said, unable to hold back her smile.

“That’s what I thought.” He reached out for her. “See what I have to deal with? Both of you thinking I’m full of shit.”

“Must mean it’s true if your best friend and your girl think so,” Chris said, lounging across the couch.

Liz’s breath caught. Had Chris just called her Brady’s girl? She looked up into Brady’s face and didn’t see any frustration or anger. He hadn’t bit back a retort. He wasn’t correcting Chris. What was happening?

“Must be,” Brady said, planting a kiss on her lips and then pushing her toward the couch.

She was too stunned to even respond. She just sat down.

Brady took the seat next to her and draped his arm over her shoulder. She had so many questions, not the least of which was Why was this okay? She wasn’t complaining; this was incredible. She just didn’t know that this was going to happen. Could she honestly think of a better surprise?

“So, Liz, Brady tells me you’re at UNC. What are you majoring in?” Chris asked, switching gears. He picked up a controller off of the table and tossed it to Brady, who caught it one-handed. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Liz shook her head. Video games. Seriously, who was this guy she had been seeing the last two months?

She broke out of her trance to answer Chris’s question. “Journalism. I work at the newspaper.”

“Nice. I used to read the kvetching column every day.”

“Oh dear Lord, you’re one of those?” she asked, unable to hold back.

Chris and Brady both laughed at that. “I didn’t care about much in college, so it wouldn’t surprise anyone that I’m one of those, as you said.” He turned on the XBOX and the icon blasted onto the enormous screen.

The guys set up their game as they talked, and soon they were trying to kill each other on the television screen.

“So, journalism, huh?” Chris said, bobbing and weaving with his player. “What made you choose that?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a reporter, since I was a little kid. Most people change what they want to do as they grow up, but my goals stayed pretty consistent,” she told him.

She couldn’t help staring at Brady instead of the screen. He was playing video games. His smile was contagious, and everything that he and Chris said to each other was a riot. They could badger each other and still laugh. It was very clear they had known each other for a long time.

She suddenly felt a loss grip her, as if she had missed a part of him for the past two months. He could very clearly enjoy himself and be normal when he felt completely comfortable and didn’t have to hold back.

“Nice. I changed majors about ten times in college. Ended up getting a business degree like Brady. Professors hated having us in classes together,” Chris told her.

“I can see that. You two seem like you could get in a lot of trouble together.”

“Wait a minute,” Brady said. “Professors hated having you in class. They didn’t have a problem with me.”

“Don’t believe everything he tells you. He fucked up as much in college as the rest of us,” Chris said as Brady grumbled curse words under his breath.

Liz laughed again. “I bet he did.”

“Seriously don’t believe him,” Brady whispered into her ear. His lip brushed against her earlobe and she shivered.

“Are you from the area then?” Chris asked.

“No, my family lives in Tampa. My dad’s a professor at South Florida,” she told them.

“Your dad is a professor?” Brady asked, stopping his movements on the controller and turning to look at her. Chris proceeded to kill Brady’s character off.

“Yeah,” she said, staring up into his dark, intense eyes.

“I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.”

“What does he teach?” Brady asked, suddenly very interested.

“Calculus primarily.”

“Huh. And you’re not a math person?” he asked.

“I’m a Morehead scholar. I’m perfectly fine at math. It’s just not my area of interest,” she told him diplomatically.

That got Chris’s attention. “You’re a Morehead scholar?” he asked, sounding very impressed. “Isn’t that the highest merit scholarship in the school?”

Liz shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It is.”

“Damn,” he said, appraising her.

“That’s impressive,” Brady said softly.

“Thanks,” she said, embarrassed. She turned away from his heated look and let them get back to their game. She hadn’t thought her answers would distract them so much, but she couldn’t deny that she liked how interested Brady had been in her background.

The guys played a couple games together, and Liz felt herself dozing off again. She rarely got much sleep when she was with Brady, but it tended to be for other reasons entirely.

“Hey, are you falling asleep?” Brady asked, nudging her lightly.

“Oh, no,” she said, jumping up. “I’m not.”

“You guys need to come up to New York sometime,” Chris said. “My place there is smaller than this and I pay ten times as much on it, but you can’t beat the location in Manhattan.”

Liz looked up at Brady as he turned to look at her. She could read his expression. Chris clearly knew that they weren’t out in public. Brady wouldn’t have brought them here otherwise.

“What are you doing in North Carolina, anyway?” she asked, changing the subject so Brady didn’t have to respond. Brady kissed her lips once before returning to his game. She wondered if that was her thank you.

“Oh, I’m here for Brady’s fucking gala event or whatever it is this weekend,” Chris told her.

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you would be there,” Liz said. That was promising. At least she would know one other person besides Brady.

“Yeah. Are you going?”

She looked up at Brady expectantly. “Yeah, I got her a ticket,” he said.

“You two are going together?” Chris asked, mashing one of the buttons repeatedly with his thumb.

Brady sighed and looked down at her. She could tell he wasn’t happy with that question. She knew they couldn’t go together. She really, really wanted to go with him, but he wasn’t going to let that happen…not right before the primary. This was what she had signed up for, but she couldn’t help silently pleading with him to change his mind.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea with the election coming up,” Brady said.

Chris looked as if he wanted to say more about it, but he didn’t. And that closed it. “You know, you could always go with me.”

“What?” Brady asked before Liz could speak.

“Hear me out. I don’t have a date, and she doesn’t have a date. It would be better for both of us if we went together. Then no weird old ladies will try to hand me off to their sons, and, yes, that has happened before,” Chris told them.

“I don’t know,” Liz said, trying to read Brady’s reaction.

“It’s really a flawless plan,” Chris said.

“What do you think?” Liz asked Brady.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear so that Chris couldn’t hear. “I don’t want anyone else even near you, but compared to the alternative, Chris is tolerable. As long as you know, baby, you’re going home with me.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” she whispered back.

Brady smiled and nodded at Chris. “I think that will work better than you both showing up alone. I can send you the details for the weekend.”

“Sounds good,” Chris said, stretching exaggeratedly. “I think I’m beat. I’m going to go to bed. You guys feel free to stay. I have a guest room down that hallway.” He pointed off in the opposite direction of where he was walking. “Really nice meeting you, Liz.”

“Nice meeting you, too.”

Chris walked up the stairs to the second floor and out of sight. Brady planted his lips on hers, cradled her body against his, picked her up, and carried her into the guest bedroom.

“Look,” Brady said, kicking the door closed with his foot and setting her down, “the surprise comes with a bed.”

Chapter 21
WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR

Liz walked forward into the ballroom that housed Brady’s big gala event. Chris was standing at her side, looking dashing out of his khakis and into a tux. His longer light brown hair was trimmed, and he had shaved. He handed off the pair of tickets Brady had left with them, and they glided through the doors.

The room was a surprising display. Liz had expected the typical red-white-and-blue decor that she had associated with political campaigns, but it seemed that had been replaced with actual evening decorations in black, white, and gold. High tables, covered in alternating silky tablecloths, were scattered around the massive ballroom, where guests mingled with drinks in hand. The waitstaff wandered the premises in tailored tuxedos and shimmery black dresses, carrying hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes on gold platters.

A sizable number of influential members of North Carolina society were present, along with a few notable politicians, celebrities, and business executives from outside the state whom Liz recognized. Everyone was dressed to the nines and had probably paid a pretty penny in donations to be at this fund-raising event.

Liz took a deep breath and tried not to think about it. Brady wanted her here tonight even though the party was only supposed to be for donors, friends, and family. She felt extremely on edge in the ballroom surrounded by all of these people, knowing she was essentially Brady’s mistress.

No, he wasn’t married. No, he wasn’t dating anyone. No, she wasn’t technically a mistress. But she was a secret and that was enough.

After the time they had spent with Chris out in the open, she had started feeling antsy. She hadn’t seen Brady since that night, but she felt like the paradigm of their relationship had forever changed now that someone knew what they were doing. If Chris knew, why couldn’t Victoria know? Why couldn’t his family know? Why couldn’t the whole campaign know?

She didn’t like to think about it. She knew it would upset him if she mentioned it, but they were so good together. Would it really be the end of the world if other people knew what they were doing? Would it really jeopardize the campaign and her career? She knew that they had started out a secret for that very reason, but she hadn’t ever expected to want to change that. Now that she did…she couldn’t help wondering if they had just blown it out of proportion to begin with.

Liz followed Chris to an empty table and he smiled at a few people he knew. She was really surprised by how many faces she recognized. Like the governor…wasn’t he from a different party? And two basketball celebrities…had they played with Brady in college? And a news reporter from the Washington Post and another one that Liz followed from the New York Times. She knew that no press was allowed in the event, and they weren’t wearing badges or carrying equipment. Were they supporters?

Liz knew she shouldn’t be in reporter mode, but she couldn’t help it. It was who she was. Ingrained in her now. This event wasn’t open to the press, but her fingers were itching for the voice recorder and notebook she normally carried with her. She only had a deep red satin clutch with her, at Victoria’s insistence.

The day after she met Chris, she had gone shopping with Victoria at the mall and some of the local boutiques. Liz had been ready to call it quits and wear what she had, but Victoria had urged her into a few more shops. A few more shops had actually been closer to a dozen, in true Victoria style.

It had been worth it though when they had found the dress. Liz hadn’t been sure about it until Victoria had forced her to try it on. The champagne-colored silk hugged her figure seamlessly, falling to the floor, the train trailing out ever so slightly behind her. It had a square bustier top with a small V dipping between her breasts. The beaded straps crossed her back and held up the backless ensemble, which was ruched at the base of her spine.

Miraculously, after she matched it with dark red pumps, it didn’t need any alterations. Victoria had piled Liz’s thick, blond hair up off her neck and into curls. The only jewelry on her whole body was a thin gold necklace and gold-knotted earrings.

“Champagne?” the waitress asked as she passed.

Chris glanced at Liz. “You?”

“Sure,” she said, taking a drink from the waitress.

Chris held up his hand and she moved on. “I think I’ll head to the bar and get something else. I prefer beer. Did you want something?”

Liz took a sip of her champagne and then set it down. She couldn’t get sloshed. She needed to take it easy. “I think I’m good with the champagne.”

“All right,” he said with a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Hey,” Liz said, reaching out and touching his arm. “When will Brady get here?”

Brady had told her that he wouldn’t be there when the event started, but he would make an appearance once the room started filling up. She just didn’t know when to expect him. She was already excited to see him.

“I’m sure he’ll be late to his own gig.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Probably in the next twenty to thirty minutes if we’re lucky. The sooner he gets here, the sooner we leave.”

Liz giggled and shook her head. “What? Afraid of getting pawned off to someone’s son again?”

“Don’t get me started. I’ll tell you that story later, and then you won’t be laughing!” he said before turning and walking toward the bar.

Liz took another drink of her champagne and went back to people watching. Brady would be here in the next twenty minutes or so, which meant she had a little bit of time to size up the crowd.

She figured she was the youngest person in the room besides Savannah, whom she picked out in an Anne Boleyn green dress across the room. Most of the donors in the room who contributed to Brady’s campaign were up-and-comers riding the bandwagon of success. There were a sizable number of older individuals, women primarily, who all seemed to know one another. She was pretty sure she recognized some of them from her table at the Jefferson-Jackson event.

“Find what you’re looking for?” a voice drawled softly into her ear.

She turned around slowly and looked up into an oddly familiar face, but not the one she had been expecting. Where had she seen this person before? He had short blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and dimpled cheeks. So familiar…yet she couldn’t place him.

“I wasn’t looking for anything,” she covered quickly, flushing.

“For you,” he said, offering her a glass half-full of dark liquid.

Some guy was bringing her a drink…out of nowhere. That felt oddly familiar as well.

“Um…thanks,” she said, taking it out of his hand.

He chuckled, those cute dimples returning. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Busted! “No, sorry. You do look really familiar…”

“We met on the Fourth of July,” he offered. “You were having a medical emergency. Claustrophobic, if I remember correctly. How are you handling this event?” he asked amicably.

“Oh my God, that’s right! So sorry! I was kind of having a moment,” she said.

If only he knew what kind of moment…

“You seem all right now,” he drawled.

“Much better.”

He smiled down at her, and she noticed how handsome he was. “So, what do you think about the party? A bit different from the Fourth of July atmosphere.”

“It’s classy. I’m just glad it’s not red-white-and-blue,” she said.

“Ah, how exceptionally unpatriotic,” he teased.

“Well, what do you think about it, then?” Liz demanded, taking a sip of the drink he had brought over to her. She smiled as the whiskey slid down her throat.

“Hmm…the truth?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Of course.”

“I think the decorations are a bit overdone, the crowd is a bit stiff, and the candidate is a pompous asshole. But hey, we don’t vote on character, do we?”

Liz nearly choked on her drink. Had he really just called Brady a pompous asshole? She would have laughed, since it was something she would have thought two months ago, but she didn’t think that anymore. She knew Brady too well to think that was true.

“Good to see you think so highly of your representative,” she said, biting back a smile.

“Don’t believe all of that. They don’t represent us. They represent themselves and business and some of the people in this room who give them a lot of money,” he told her as a matter of fact.

“What a jaded view of the political process,” Liz said. She’d had similar thoughts before, but that was why she was in journalism and not politics. She couldn’t deal with the insincerity and duplicity herself. She would rather report on it.

“Only honest one you’ll get in here tonight, and don’t forget it,” he said, gesturing to the crowd.

“You think pretty highly of yourself. I sure hope you never go through the trouble of running for office,” she said with a genuine smile.

He laughed out loud and set his drink on the table. “So, you’re saying that you approve of the Maxwell family taking over the political field?”

“We’ll see how the primary goes first,” she said diplomatically.

“Spoken like a true politician. Are you running for office?” He leaned forward as if to get the inside scoop.

“Definitely not,” she said.

“Maybe reconsider it.”

“And would I have your vote, considering what you think about politicians?” Liz asked, leaning forward to match him.

“I don’t give away my vote freely, but I think I’d let you take it,” he drawled. “You want to run against a Maxwell?”

“Maybe I’ll wait for an open seat.” She took another sip of her drink. His eyes followed the movement.

The room gradually fell silent all around them, and Liz broke his gaze to look up at the entrance. Standing just inside the double doors, directly across from her table, stood Brady. He looked un-fucking-believable. He seriously got better-looking every time she saw him. He wore a black tux, and his hair had been styled to perfection. Everything just fit him as if it had been made for his body, and all she wanted to do was get him out of it.

She zeroed in on him, and then slowly, as if she were zooming out with a camera, she saw everything else. And what she saw made her stomach drop.

A woman. No, not just any woman. A freaking gorgeous woman. Model thin, above-average height, long, lustrous hair, flawless skin, and an expensive-dress-and-jewelry kind of woman. A woman with her hand holding on to Brady’s elbow as if…she was there with him. With her Brady.

“Why am I not surprised?” the guy said next to her. “See what I mean by not judging on character alone? I’m sure he’s sleeping with her.”

Liz’s fingers clenched into the cloth on the table as her heart sped up. Three days ago she had been meeting Brady’s best friend for the first time. While Brady hadn’t said that he was going to the event alone, she hadn’t thought he would show up with some other woman on his arm. Not after telling Liz that he didn’t want anyone near her. Now he was here with some other woman?

Her death glare must have drawn Brady’s attention, because his eyes found her easily in the crowd. They stayed like that for only a couple of seconds, but she was sure he grasped the heat in her stare. His eyes traveled away from her, but jerked back to her almost immediately. He looked at her as if he was trying to puzzle out an answer, and then he looked away.

She felt sick. She needed to get away from there.

“Liz,” Chris called, appearing out of nowhere. “Sorry I was held up.” He looked over at the guy she had been standing with and clapped him on the back. “Hey, man. How’s law school treating you? Are you liking Yale?”

Liz wanted to disappear. She was fuming. She knew deep down she had no right to be angry about this. They couldn’t be out in public, but that didn’t mean he could bring someone else! She wanted to be that woman right now! His girl. She had never wanted to be in anyone else’s shoes as much as she did at that moment.

“Doing just fine. I see you know Liz,” he said, using her name without any effort, as if he had known it all along rather than only after Chris had just said it.

“Oh, you know Liz?” Chris asked, sounding confused. “She’s here with me.” Chris touched her elbow, and it took everything she had not to wrench it out of his grasp. “I didn’t know you had already met Clay,” he said, turning to face Liz.