Текст книги "Off the Record"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter 27
THE WAITING GAME

Liz didn’t even want to know the cost of a last-minute flight from Raleigh to Hilton Head. She was sure it wasn’t something she would be able to afford, but luckily Brady had made all the arrangements.

Now here she was about to board a flight to go see him at his parents’ beach house. Or at least, she was staying at a resort nearby. It felt surreal to be living this life. She had so much that she needed to discuss with Brady, but she would have to wait until they were together again to bring it up. Heather had been keeping him more than busy, and Liz hadn’t spoken with him except to finalize her travel plans.

Liz was sure Heather was only keeping tabs on him because of their relationship…whatever it was. She didn’t think Heather needed to push him that hard. She was sure he was going to win. All he had to do was smile.

She stood in line to board the plane and her mind raced back to that first conversation with Brady. Airplanes made him hyperventilate, and she had been the only other thing that had elicited that reaction from him. Liz knew that she still felt that way about him. Brady had changed her. He had made her bolder, freer, and she liked that he had given her that.

Yet they were caught in this unhealthy limbo. Trapped in a place where they couldn’t express themselves and couldn’t move forward. They were forever boarding the plane, hyperventilating from the intensity and passion of their feelings, but never taking off and seeing where the plane might take them.

With a heavy sigh, Liz walked onto the plane and took her seat in first class. She had only flown first class once, when her parents had sent her to Hawaii to spend a week with her grandparents. She snuggled into her cozy seat and let her eyes close. She pushed away all thoughts of Brady and the decisions that had to be made and fell into a light slumber.

Liz jolted awake when the wheels touched ground at the small Hilton Head Island airport. She yawned and stretched as they rolled to a stop in front of the terminal. The jet bridge attached to the plane and she filed out, grabbing her carry-on luggage, which hadn’t fit overhead on the small regional plane.

She made her way to the exit and found a man standing alone, wearing a suit, and holding a sign that read Carmichael. Liz smiled and walked over to him.

“Miss Carmichael?” the man asked as she approached.

“That’s me,” Liz said.

“Let me help you with that,” he said, taking her bag and rolling it out to the awaiting town car.

In that moment, Liz felt so out of her league. Someone had flown her to the beach, arranged for someone to pick her up at the airport in an expensive town car, and she was staying at a luxury beachside resort. She found all of this very hard to believe. But mostly, she wished she could be experiencing all of this with Brady.

Trying her best to make light of the situation, she reminded herself over and over of all the good times they’d had together this summer. The sneaking around had been exhilarating, even if she now found it frustrating. Well, the sneaking around wasn’t the frustrating part; it was the fact that there was more to their relationship than that, and it was being stifled by their opposing careers.

She ground her teeth. Even when she was trying to think of the positives, the negatives crept back in. She made a mental list of all the things she missed about her time with Brady. The lake, his little notes, the diner, when he dropped his campaign mask, the newspaper office, his intense dark eyes, his coming to see her after Justin’s DUI, the Fourth of July, his big gala event when he had given her his key, and then she heard him tell Heather and Elliott that he loved her…

Liz swallowed back a lump in her throat. Her whole summer had been Brady. Sure, he was volatile, stubborn, and prone to jealousy, but she knew there was more to him than that, and he had shown her that this summer, whether he wanted to or not.

The town car carried her across the island and pulled onto the grounds of the Sonesta Resort. Liz leaned into the window to look at the beautiful view before her. The hotel boasted more than three hundred luxury rooms with an enormous pool, on-site spa, twenty-four-hole golf course, and beachside access with cabanas and bottle service. It was a dream resort.

As soon as they parked, the driver assisted Liz with her luggage and handed her an envelope. “Here you are, Miss Carmichael. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she said absentmindedly.

She strolled into the air-conditioned hotel lobby, anxious to open the envelope, but all she could do was stop and stare at her surroundings. The lobby was modern chic, with enough of a cozy atmosphere to make it feel like home. Large couches and overstuffed chairs were artfully placed around the room, and couples lounged amid the furniture, reading newspapers and talking to friends. The ceiling rose higher and higher, with gorgeous windows on one side, an impressive mural on another, and a seashell chandelier.

Liz took a seat in one of the chairs and opened the envelope. A plastic keycard, a resort packet with her room number, and a trifolded sheet of paper fell out into her hand. The front of the letter was sealed with a short note on it.

Do not read until you are in your room.

—B

All right, she thought, a big smile spreading on her face. She really freaking liked his little notes.

Liz took the envelope and headed to the elevators, ready to be up in her room to find out what was inside the letter. She pressed the button for the top floor and waited as the elevator took its time. It finally deposited her on her floor, and she found her room near the end of the hallway. She slid her keycard into the slot and opened the door into a beautiful suite twice the size of the one she’d had with Brady in Charlotte after the Jefferson-Jackson gala.

She dropped her bags in the entranceway and closed the door. She couldn’t believe that Brady had gotten her this room for two nights in Hilton Head. She was having a hard time believing any of it.

The resort hotel room had a full living room with couch and chairs matching those in the lobby, a dark wooden dining room table set, and a beach-inspired kitchen with light wood cabinetry, granite countertops, and brand-new sleek black appliances. An open door led to a large master bedroom with a king-sized bed, and the master bath came complete with standing glass shower and Jacuzzi tub. But the best part about the whole suite was the exquisite balcony view of the ocean.

Taking the envelope with her, Liz sat down on one of the chairs outside and tore open the letter.

I hope you like your suite. I wanted you to have an ocean view. I’ve added the spa package to the room, so treat yourself. My schedule for the weekend is attached.

Liz glanced at the second page and saw a list of events that Brady had to attend. Dinner that night with the family and meetings for the campaign after. The next day, he had time blocked off for the family for most of the day, which was disappointing. She would have liked to spend some beach time with him, but of course, that was impossible. That night was dinner and drinks with potential donors. Neither night had an end time, just a start time.

I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way, from a private number that isn’t being traced. I’d advise you to stay on resort properties at all times. The last thing we want is for you to be seen. Can’t wait to get my hands on you.

—B

Her core heated at the thought of him. Brady Maxwell had gone to all of this trouble for her. She hoped she would see him sooner rather than later. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized quite how much she had missed him…just him, exactly how they were when they were together.

Though she had to admit she wasn’t sure what to think about the part about not being allowed to leave. Not that she’d had any plans to go anywhere else, but she did kind of want to see the island. She had never been to Hilton Head, and it seemed silly to stay at the hotel the whole time. Well, she would figure it out.

Not wanting to waste any more time considering it, she called down to the spa to schedule her appointment. By the time Brady came to see her that night, she wanted to look amazing.

Liz spent the afternoon at the beach soaking up the summer sun. It made her miss her parents’ house in Tampa, and she wished that she had taken time out of her busy schedule to see them. She still had a couple weeks left before school started. Maybe it would do her some good to go visit her family. Though she found it hard to think about leaving Brady again after what happened last time she did.

As the sun started hanging low on the horizon, Liz returned to the resort and spent her time at the spa. A few hours later, she had been massaged, pampered, waxed, had her fingernails and toes painted, and her blond hair straightened so smoothly that she was afraid to go outside. She walked back to her room feeling unbelievably relaxed.

Brady hadn’t called or texted from the private number, but she figured dinner was winding down now, so she would hear from him soon. She ordered room service for a quick meal, and then applied soft makeup. Liz dug into her suitcase and pulled out a black lace babydoll and matching thong. She had packed them last-minute, wondering whether she would ever strike up the nerve to wear them, but after her time in the spa, she couldn’t think of a better occasion.

After she was all dolled up, she wasn’t really sure what to do from there. She still hadn’t heard from Brady, and truth be told, she felt a bit ridiculous sitting around in lingerie. But it hadn’t been that long, and she could wait for him.

Liz flipped open her laptop and started surfing through her favorite newspapers. She read the headlines and hooks to see if anything caught her eye, but she was too anxious to be interested. She had an email from Professor Mires regarding her research assistant position for the fall, but even that didn’t hold the same excitement it had when she had first spoken to her professor.

A few more hours rolled by and Liz’s anxiety had morphed into full-on frustration. Where the hell was he? More than that…why hadn’t he even called her to let her know that he wasn’t going to be here until later?

She felt ridiculous waiting up like this. Here she was dressed in full lingerie, she had taken the time to get her hair and nails done, she was wearing makeup…and hell, she had heels waiting by the bedroom door. And still no Brady.

Her gentle yawns turned into full-blown yawns at about two in the morning. Her eyes were fluttering closed, and she felt herself drifting off. By three o’clock, she had almost crashed into her computer a few times, and when she actually did, that was the final straw. She couldn’t wait up any longer.

Liz pulled her babydoll over her head and threw it into a corner in anger. She was such an idiot. Why had she gone through the trouble at all of getting dressed up and then waiting for him? She yanked an oversize T-shirt over her head and went into the bathroom to remove her makeup.

By the time she had finished scrubbing her face and crawled into bed, she was wide-awake. At that moment, she hated adrenaline. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget that she had been that girl—the kind of girl to stay up all night waiting uselessly for a guy who hadn’t even bothered to call. How could he have planned this whole thing, gotten her to a freaking island, and then not called to let her know he wasn’t coming to see her?

She ground her teeth, wondering whether she could feel any more ridiculous. Then she turned the volume all the way up on her phone and stuffed it under the pillow next to her.

That made her feel more ridiculous.

Liz awoke the next morning feeling as if she hadn’t slept all night. He eyes were swollen with bags underneath, hair a rat’s nest from tossing and turning, and she had a crick in her neck.

She grabbed her phone, hoping to see something from Brady, an apology preferably, but really anything to explain why he hadn’t called or texted or anything last night. When she turned on the screen, she found what she already knew she was going to find: Brady hadn’t tried to get hold of her.

Liz knew that Brady had plans all afternoon today as well, and she wasn’t supposed to see him until after dinner with his donors. That meant he had blown an entire night together, and they had only one more left. Whatever happened had better have been important.

Changing back into a bathing suit, Liz trekked down to the pool. She grabbed a secluded spot, ordered a daiquiri, and tried to forget about last night. There was almost no use trying, but she thought it would be worth a shot.

After her third daiquiri, she wasn’t sure if she was more or less angry with Brady for standing her up last night. Seriously, how difficult was it for him to make one little phone call?

Liz had spent all of that time at the spa, and here she was adding tension to her shoulders. She knew she should just be grateful that she was at the beach, in a suite, and getting a full spa treatment, but that wasn’t the reason that she had flown down.

She wanted to see Brady. She missed him. Plus, they had a lot to talk about.

By the time the sun had moved directly overhead, Liz could feel herself beginning to burn. She hadn’t spent enough time poolside this summer, and she wasn’t going to be a lobster tonight. Granted, at this point, she didn’t even know if she would get to see Brady.

Liz returned to her room a bit tipsier than she left. She took a quick shower and changed into a baby blue backless tank top, a pair of cuffed khaki shorts, and gold sandals. She slung her purse over her head and decided that if Brady couldn’t even bother to follow his own written instructions, then why should she?

She ventured back downstairs and walked up to the concierge’s desk.

“Excuse me,” Liz said with a smile.

“Hello! How can I help you?” a perky brunette asked, leaning forward as if to be more inviting.

“I wanted to see if you had some information on places to eat in town. I’m not too picky, but I wanted something authentic.”

The woman smiled brightly and proceeded to overload Liz with choices. By the time she walked away to catch a cab into town, she had a handful of packets, a map with a dozen or more restaurants circled for her to choose from, and no better understanding of where she was going to get lunch.

She hopped into the first cab that pulled up, and was whisked away into the center of downtown Hilton Head. The island retained an old-timey feel, complete with uniform signage. It also had a certain affluent flair, with the high-class golf courses, impressive boutiques, and all of the women coated in diamonds. Hilton Head had been touted as the Hamptons of the South…and as Liz looked around, she could see why.

The cabdriver dropped her off in front of the downtown area, Coligny Plaza and Beach Market. Liz wore her dark, thick-rimmed sunglasses through the beachside shopping center. Now that she was actually out and about in Hilton Head, she was feeling more and more self-conscious. She didn’t think anyone would recognize her, but she didn’t have a legitimate story if anyone did.

Maybe she should have listened to Brady to begin with. Too late now.

Liz wandered around the shops until she found a restaurant that was located on her map. She was too hungry to search out any of the others.

She ate her meal alone and tried to remember why she had left the resort at all. Well, she knew. She was pissed at Brady. Pissed that he would stand her up. Pissed that he hadn’t called. Pissed that he loved her and couldn’t…wouldn’t act on it.

She shook her head, tossed the remainder of the meal, and turned to walk out of the restaurant with the intention of spending the rest of the afternoon wandering the shops before heading back to the hotel. Then she heard a voice that was completely recognizable, even though she couldn’t see the person who was speaking.

Clay Maxwell.

Liz froze in her tracks just outside of the restaurant, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as she tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. She stuffed her glasses back on her face and swallowed hard. She absolutely could not be seen by anyone, especially not Clay. If Clay found out that she was here, she was sure he would start putting the pieces together. After all, why else would she always turn up everywhere Brady happened to be?

Liz was clearly too young to be a big donor, unless she had a trust, and she didn’t act as though she did. And people tended to jump to conclusions. Liz would have if she had been reporting, and then she would have dug until she found her evidence. Her gut instincts were normally right.

Like the one telling her to run, run far away at that moment.

The voices stopped, and Liz, thinking she was finally in the clear, turned the corner toward the shops. Her stomach dropped when she saw Clay standing directly in front of her.

A dimpled smirk crossed his face when he noticed her, and the only thing Liz could do in that moment was shake her head and smile.

“Clay Maxwell!” she cried. “I did not expect to find you here.”

Clay’s grin grew when she acknowledged him, and he pulled away from the woman he was standing with. He was in short khaki shorts, a blue Brooks Brothers polo, and boat shoes. His Ray-Bans hung from his neck by a pair of Croakies, making him look unbelievably preppy.

“Liz,” he said, obviously trying to hide his own surprise. “It’s great to see you.”

“You know, for a guy who begs a girl for her number, you really should have considered using it,” Liz scolded.

Shit! Where had that come from? she wondered. She just needed to play a part and then leave. She couldn’t have Clay telling Brady he had seen her. That would be the end of the world.

Clay chuckled. The girl he was with raised her eyebrows at the comment. She was pretty, by all means gorgeous, but she clearly had a stick up her ass. If she could look any more snobby in her designer sundress, Chanel earrings, and Tiffany necklace, Liz would have been very surprised.

“Good to see you, too, Liz. Let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Andrea,” he said, drawling out her name and pronouncing it Ahn-dreya.

Girlfriend. Liz came up short at that word. The man who had begged her to go home with him and practically shoved his phone down her throat to get her number…had a girlfriend. That was rich…

“So nice to meet you,” Liz said, wishing that she didn’t feel like such an idiot.

“Clay, who is this?” Andrea asked. She turned to him pointedly.

“This is my friend Liz. We met on the Fourth of July at Brady’s rally.”

“Borrring,” Andrea said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s a big supporter of Brady. I think I’ve convinced her to run against him,” Clay said.

“Ugh…whatever,” Andrea said. “I’m going to get a drink. God knows I need one. Don’t fuck her, okay?” She glared at him and stomped away.

Liz’s eyes bulged as she stared back and forth between the couple. What had just happened?

Clay shrugged as if his girlfriend hadn’t just told him not to sleep with someone else in public…right in front of Liz. “Sorry about that.”

“You have a girlfriend,” she observed lamely.

“Most of the time,” he said nonchalantly. “And you have a boyfriend, I assume.”

“I don’t actually,” Liz said.

“Oh, come on, no single girl refuses that vehemently unless they’re dating someone.”

“Why are we having this conversation?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Because now I’m confused. You don’t have a boyfriend and you didn’t go home with me even though you wanted to fuck me,” Clay said, as if this were the most confusing thing he’d had to deal with in a while.

Liz shook her head. Arrogant son of a bitch. She couldn’t stop thinking that when she was around him.

“I didn’t want to sleep with you.”

“Right,” he said, ignoring her statement. “Are you here for that thing Brady’s hosting tonight?”

“No, I wasn’t aware Senator Maxwell had an event on Hilton Head this weekend,” she lied fluidly. Liz knew that it sounded odd that she would be here and not know about the event, but she couldn’t tell him she had flown down to be here for it. That would be even more suspicious. “I’m staying with some friends at a resort for the weekend. Good timing, I guess.”

“Well, you should crash the party. Brady has a hot date. You could be mine,” Clay said with a shrug.

All of the wind rushed out of her lungs at once. Brady had a hot date. She knew he had dinner and drinks tonight, but he hadn’t mentioned a date. Had he flown her all this way just to go out with someone else again? She felt hypocritical getting worked up over this after Hayden had kissed her, but she hadn’t gone into that situation thinking anything would happen. Could Brady be thinking the same thing?

She tried to compose herself, but it was not without difficulty.

“You’re not bringing your girlfriend?” Liz asked, her voice tight with emotion.

“She’ll be there.”

“I think I’m going to have to pass,” she said, realizing how close she was to accepting the invitation just to see whom Brady would show up with.

His blond hair blew across his forehead in the breeze, and his blue eyes looked down into hers as if he were trying to persuade her with one look.

Liz shook her head, her heart beating fiercely in her chest. Brady had a date and his brother was trying to seduce her. Why wasn’t Brady the one after her? Where the hell was he anyway? And why had he stood her up last night?

“I appreciate the offer, but you have explicit instructions from your girlfriend not to sleep with me. I think that’s probably a good idea. Good-bye, Clay,” Liz said, moving to the right to walk around him.

His hand reached out and touched her wrist. “You know, I did listen to Brady’s speech after we talked.” He stared at her very intently, all of the humor and joking leaving his eyes. “And I still think you’re wrong. He only cares about the campaign and he only cares about winning. I know that he’ll do whatever it takes to get there, and I’m sorry he’s convinced you so thoroughly otherwise…”