Текст книги "Off the Record"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter 11
EQUALIZER

Liz yawned as she walked into the diner where she had agreed to meet Brady. It was a small, dingy-looking place that she had overlooked a hundred times before. She had heard that it had superb breakfast, but she was never awake in time to go unless she had class. And she wasn’t going to wake up early. Her sleeping schedule was precious.

She hoped she looked okay. She wasn’t a morning person, and her earliest class last semester had been noon. She had left her heels at home and opted for her brown-and-gold sandals. She had on short, cuffed white shorts and a long, see-through teal blouse. At least she had taken the time to do her hair, and it fell down to her shoulders in soft waves.

Tossing her Ray-Bans into her purse, she made her way to the back of the restaurant. If Brady wasn’t here yet, she would rather take the farthest booth in the back and wait for him to arrive. That way she wouldn’t miss him, and she could observe everyone else who was walking in.

She broke past the small bar area in the front where a few older gentlemen sat with coffee in hand as they mulled over their newspapers. The back room was pretty empty, only one elderly couple sitting in the front holding hands. Brady was already there, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Good morning,” he said with a cheery smile.

Her breath caught as she stared down at him. He was insanely good-looking. It actually hurt to look at him and not jump over that table to get at him. He was wearing a blue polo with dark jeans and a black Arc’teryx shell jacket. She was surprised to see that he wasn’t in his typical attire. She wasn’t sure if it was because their meeting was informal or because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Either way it was nice to see him out of a suit. She blushed when she remembered the last time she had seen him out of one.

“Hey,” Liz whispered. She took the seat across from him.

“You look well this morning,” he told her, drinking her in.

“Thanks,” she said, thinking the complete opposite.

As hot and heavy as they had gotten backstage yesterday, she didn’t really know what he wanted from her. Why meet her here in a public place? Was he going to be letting her down easy? It hadn’t seemed like that yesterday. He had initiated and pushed it further. She had just suggested moving it to a more private location.

And what was this dinner he had mentioned? Who had that been with? She didn’t know, and she knew that it could have been any number of people from a girlfriend (though she hadn’t dug one up yet) to his campaign staff to donors and anyone in between.

“You hungry?” he asked with a smile.

In fact, she wasn’t all that hungry. She had too many questions to ask. The reporter in her was about ready to burst.

“They have great waffles. Do you like waffles?” he said.

“Yes,” she responded. So, he was going for normal then.

“Coffee?”

“Definitely. It’s early,” she said, stifling a yawn.

A waiter came and took their orders. She seemed familiar with Brady. Apparently she had been working at the place all four years he was in college, and went to church with his parents. Liz shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. She sometimes forgot that everyone knew him here.

“I suppose I should go ahead and say that if anyone asks, we were finishing our interview,” he offered.

Liz nodded, pulling out her recorder and setting it on the counter. “All right.”

“You came prepared.”

“Always. Should I turn it on?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Brady shrugged. “Not if you want to keep it.”

Liz chuckled at the comment. She liked his humor…even if he wasn’t actually kidding. She had no doubt he would take the recorder from her if need be, but he was lightening the mood. The veil of secrecy clouded the booth like a drape, and he was trying to sweep the curtains open.

“I think I’ll just leave it there then. You can check my hands,” she said, holding them up so he could see she hadn’t touched the recorder.

Brady smirked, and she wondered what devious thought he was thinking.

The waitress returned with their food a few minutes later. He was right: The waffle was pretty great. Though she thought a person had to be pretty inept to mess up a waffle.

As they ate, more people filtered into the diner. A college couple sat in the booth behind them. A few bleary-eyed people obsessed over their coffee. A group of regulars smiled at the waitress as she passed and chatted with her endlessly when she came to their tables. Liz felt more and more withdrawn the more people who came into the restaurant. As far as she could tell, he was simply happy to have breakfast with her…as strange as that sounded.

“You know what I love about diners?” Brady asked, looking up at her out of the blue.

Liz shook her head. She knew why she loved diners, but she was sure it was for different reasons. She never knew where he was going with anything.

“It’s an equalizer,” he stated simply.

She didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. “Hmm?”

“Anyone could be sitting in this booth—a Senator, a businessman, a sorority girl, a bum. We’d all be in the same boat,” he said absentmindedly.

“I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“You were never in the booth with me.” His ever-present charming smile sucked the breath right out of her.

Seriously, where did he come up with this stuff? It was like he knew exactly what to say to disarm her. She didn’t know if it was because he was damn good at his job or if he was a master seducer, a Casanova of the twenty-first century. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it to stop. Then again, she never wanted her time with Brady to stop.

“I wouldn’t guess you were a man who wanted to be equal to anyone,” she said finally.

“In politics? Never. In romance? You’ll never find my equal. Having breakfast with a beautiful woman? I’ll be equal with anyone for that pleasure.”

Liz’s heart fluttered. He was a smooth talker…she knew that much.

“So, why did you ask me here?” She was aware of how many people were in the room, and hoped no one had overheard their exchange.

“I want to see you again,” he stated simply. She searched his dark brown eyes for any hint of humor or malice, but there was none. He was telling the truth.

“Again as in now or as in later?” she asked.

“Now and later and many times after that.”

Liz swallowed. She didn’t know what she had expected, but certainly not that. It didn’t make sense. Why had he let her leave the club that first night? Why had he let her walk out of the hotel room? Why had he never called her back, sent his press secretary to fetch her, and then not finished off the job he started? That didn’t sound like a man who wanted to see her many more times.

She needed answers.

“If you wanted to see me again, why didn’t you call me?” she asked defiantly. She didn’t even have the patience to let him answer. “In fact, why did you even start something yesterday at all? You obviously knew you couldn’t finish, because you had some dinner.”

“Indeed, I did.”

“Now you’re coming to me saying you want to see me again, but you made no effort before this point,” Liz said. “Why did you even kiss me yesterday? Your actions seem rather mixed.”

“Because I wanted to kiss you, like I want to kiss you right now,” he told her.

Liz blushed. He had said that he wanted her multiple times, and yet he had left her dangling for someone else to scoop up for two weeks, letting her think it was a one-night stand.

“For someone who claims to know what they want, you don’t act like it.” She could see him tensing.

“Do you want the truth?” he asked, his tone flat.

“No, lie to me,” she said, with an eye roll.

His eyes narrowed, and she could see she was pushing too hard. “The truth is, I had to test you.”

“Test me?” she nearly squeaked out.

“I didn’t know for certain if you were sure about this,” he answered her.

“How thoughtful of you to inform me,” she said dryly. She was uncertain how the conversation had even gotten here. Brady Maxwell, a State Senator, was testing her to see whether she was sure about the two of them. How did this make any sense?

“People, women in particular, get close to a politician for a reason,” he stated bluntly. “I wanted to know whether you were that kind of woman.”

“And you decided I wasn’t?”

“With the fervor you kissed me back yesterday…no one could fake that.”

She hadn’t faked it, but she wasn’t so sure about his reasoning. “That’s it? A kiss?”

“You might have cleared the background check as well, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Oh, of course. A background check. “Seriously?”

“I had to be sure,” he told her flatly.

“Totally normal.” She wanted that to irritate her, but she found that it didn’t as much as she thought it would. If he was serious enough to look into her background, then he must really want to see her again.

“So, what do you think?” he asked finally.

“Well,” she said uncertainly, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to see me?” He apparently seemed amused at the thought. He knew she wanted to see him.

“I do,” she corrected. She couldn’t lie about that. “But I don’t know why you had to bring me here at seven o’clock in the morning to tell me that. Why didn’t you just come to my place yesterday?”

“Because I can’t see you when you want to see me,” Brady told her, pushing his diner coffee away and meeting her eyes.

Hers were already narrowed. “But you can see me when you want to?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even try to hide behind his charming words.

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“I want to see you, but in the position I’m…we’re in, it’s not possible,” he told her.

“What, because you’re running for office?” She knew she sounded incredulous, but it made sense. He wouldn’t want to risk anything…especially not on a woman, no matter his big talk.

“And you’re a reporter…a college reporter,” he reminded her.

“And I wrote that article,” she said, filling in the blanks.

“You did,” Brady confirmed. “While I don’t mind you pointing out my faults, the campaign and my opponents will see it as me giving up the nomination.”

“Why are you here then?” she asked, her anger mounting once more.

“Because I still want you. Weeks later, I still want you. And you want me too.”

Liz’s stomach dropped and all the anger she had been holding dissipated. He wanted her. She knew he did, but hearing it like that was intoxicating. She didn’t want to give him up. She was having a fucking hard time even concentrating on anything else. After he had left, it felt as if she had a hole in her chest. She didn’t know if it was the sex, because that had been fantastic, or if it was just Brady. As much as she wanted it to be the second, that idea scared the shit out of her.

“So, you want me, but you can’t see me?”

“I can’t see you on your terms,” he corrected.

“What does that even mean?” Liz asked, raising her voice. She immediately quieted down and looked around the restaurant. No one had even glanced at them. That was lucky.

“Look, I want us to continue what we’re doing, but in private. I don’t want to jeopardize my career…or your career,” he added quickly.

Liz breathed in and out deeply, realizing finally what he was saying. “You want a fuck buddy,” she stated as bluntly as possible. If he was going to be all out in the open, she wanted plain words. She wanted to know what he was offering…what kind of deal she was willing to take.

He sighed as if she was misinterpreting, but she was sure she wasn’t. He wanted to sleep with her, no strings attached, while he was on the campaign and too busy for anything else. She had heard of these kinds of situations before. She never knew how they happened…how they got started—apparently at seven o’clock in the morning at a dingy diner in downtown Chapel Hill over coffee.

“That’s not what I had in mind,” he said.

“No? That’s what it sounds like. So, what kind of situation is this?” she asked, her anger resurfacing. She didn’t even know where it came from, because it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to sleep with him, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to keep it a secret. Some innate trigger in her brain was firing and she was listening. “Do you get to sleep with other people? Are you going to be dating someone who fits you better in the spotlight? Should I find someone else to date in the meantime?”

“Liz,” he snapped, cutting off whatever she was going to say next. “I’m not here to argue the point. I’m not here to discuss terms. I want you, and I want you anytime I can have you. That happens to be a much more limited time frame. If you aren’t interested, then good luck with your paper.” He pulled out his wallet, threw two twenties on the table, and stood.

“Wait,” Liz said, reaching for his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” Her cheeks flamed at the admission, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him walk out of the diner.

His brown eyes stared right through her, as if measuring the honesty in her statement. “All right,” he said, sitting back down.

“Uh…” she began, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I’ve never exactly been propositioned…let alone at a diner first thing in the morning.”

“As much as I enjoy hearing that…I find it hard to believe. No one has ever come on to you?” he asked inquisitively.

“It’s not that,” she said, trying to find the words. “I’ve had boyfriends before, but I met them in…normal places, like school or work or something. But usually people aren’t that interested before getting to know me. Um…I’ve heard I’m intimidating.” She shrugged.

“Really?” he asked, looking her up and down. “I guess I could see that.”

She didn’t know how. She couldn’t figure out why anyone thought that.

“You’re a well-educated woman at a top university with staggering confidence,” he told her, filling in the blanks.

Liz looked down, overloaded by the compliments. “Well, I did bring a Senator to his knees once,” she said, trying to break the tension.

He chuckled softly. “I hope it’s not just once,” he responded.

Liz stared at the napkin resting on the tabletop. She wasn’t sure what to say. He was making a proposition that, to be honest, sounded downright appealing. It’s not as if they could ever come out and announce they were dating. It’s not as if he had asked to date her. He wanted her and he wanted her whenever he could have her. Those were his words…the terms he refused to discuss.

“You’re thinking too hard about this,” he told her with a shake of his head.

“I can’t think about it?”

“The longer you think about it, the more likely you are to make a decision I don’t agree with,” Brady answered.

“So, you’re saying if I think about it…I’ll realize how much of a bad idea it is to get involved with you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Something like that.”

“Well, that’s not true. I’ve already realized that.”

“It’s not a good idea.” His voice lowered and he leaned toward her. “I’m not telling you that it’s a good idea. But it’s the only idea.”

“Is that so?” she whispered, meeting his intense tone.

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me since we parted.” He waited.

She didn’t respond. How could she?

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me pressed against your body, the feel of my lips kissing every inch of your skin, me thrusting in and out of you in the dark hotel room. If you can tell me that, then I’ll let you go. No questions asked,” he said, sitting back once more and crossing his arms. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about any of those things, and your flushed face tells me you haven’t either.”

More than her face was heated at his words. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying not to look away, but he had reminded her of all the things she wanted him to do to her again. It was too early for her body to be responding in this manner.

“So?” he prompted.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about those things…about you,” she fessed up.

“That’s what I thought.”

Cocky son of a bitch! she thought.

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to do this with you. Whatever this is,” she said, holding her hands up.

Brady sighed. “This is almost whatever you want it to be. It’s not public. It’s not in the news. It’s not a point the campaign can use against me. It’s a woman and a man taking what they can in a world where it’s not feasible for us to be together. I’m not promising you much, but I’m only asking for discretion. Everything else you give me is up to you.”

“Discretion.” She said the word like it was a viper ready to strike. Discretion wasn’t afforded in journalism.

“I’ll be up-front with you. I might hurt you. You’re going in knowing that. I’m choosing the campaign. I’m choosing Congress, because it’s what I want and what I believe in. Nothing, no one is getting in the way of me and the House of Representatives.”

How romantic, she grumbled in her head.

“I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I’m giving you what I can give you, and I’m telling you in advance you might get hurt. But it’s worth it to take the risk. I can damn well promise you that it’s worth it.”

He paused, waiting for her to say something. She wanted to tell him, Yes, God yes, a thousand times yes! But so much of this worried her. He was offering her so much, but holding back even more. What if she got invested? What the hell! She was already invested!

She couldn’t take more of him than he was offering, but if she turned him down, then she wouldn’t have any of him. One night in a dark hotel room wasn’t enough for her. It could never be enough.

Sitting there at a turning point, she remembered the feeling when she left the party in Charlotte. It was impulsive and downright insane compared to her normal behavior, but she had known then as she knew now that if she said no, she would regret it forever.

Liz never wanted to regret Brady Maxwell.

“All right,” she murmured, threading her fingers together.

“All right?”

“I agree to whatever we’re doing.”

Brady’s smile was entirely magnetic, taking her breath away. She wanted to be the reason for that smile, and every other one after it.

“So, what exactly are we doing?” she asked hesitantly.

“Do you still have that card I gave you?” She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling it out of her wallet. He pointed out the different numbers. “This is my personal line. It’s best that you don’t try to reach me on it. I don’t check it or give it out frequently, because I suspect it’s being tapped. My parents and a couple college friends still use it, but that’s about it.”

Liz couldn’t imagine this kind of life. What were the other numbers for?

“This is my campaign line. It’s specifically for campaign-related information. I am always on it. I don’t think it’s been tapped by the opposition yet, but we’ll see how it goes. You can reach me on this one during the day. It would look strange for it to go off any other time. This number goes directly to my secretary. Right now her name is Nancy, but they come and go. She is the easiest way to get hold of me.”

Liz was buzzing with all of the information. Three separate lines for three separate things, and all to reach one man.

“So, I just call and ask for you?”

“Yes. She’ll ask for your name, and you’ll give her a fake one,” he instructed her.

“You’ve really thought his through, huh?” she asked, staring at him with newfound intrigue.

“It’s my job to think everything through,” he told her.

“If you did, then you wouldn’t have passed down that education bill,” she retorted.

Brady stared at her blankly, a look she had come to associate as his campaign mask. How had she come to know his faces so well already?

“Are you done?”

Liz shrugged. “Don’t use that face with me.”

“What face?” he asked, scrunching his brows together.

“Your campaign face. All serious with no emotion. I know you’re thinking something underneath there,” she said.

“You don’t want to know everything I’m thinking.”

“I beg to differ,” Liz told him.

“We’ll get to that later,” Brady said, shaking his head. “For now, let’s get on the same page, like calling my secretary to get hold of me.”

“How are you going to know it’s me if I give a fake name?”

“Well, choose one now and then I’ll know it.”

Liz shrugged. “I don’t know what to choose. What do you want me to be—Sandy Carmichael or something?” she asked, chuckling.

“Sure,” Brady agreed. “Sandy Carmichael it is then.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“You picked it.”

“Fine,” Liz said. It was an alias, after all. It didn’t matter.

“That’s the main thing,” he said, checking his watch. “There’s some more, but we can talk about that later. I think my time is up.”

“All right,” she said, standing as he did the same. “Should I contact you or…will you contact me?”

Brady smiled. “Already anxious to see me again.”

“As if you aren’t to see me,” she whispered.

“Touché,” he volleyed. “Until next time, Ms. Carmichael.”

She glared at him, hating the stupid name she had chosen. All she really wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face. Well, kiss the smirk off his face. Okay, she really wanted to do a lot more than that.

They walked away from their booth and toward the front. He smiled at her, but was clearly trying to conceal his pleasure at being in her company. Liz was sure she wasn’t hiding it as well as he was.

She stopped him at the door. “Good-bye, Senator Maxwell,” she said sweetly, looking up at him with anything-but-innocent eyes.

Liz turned to leave, but he put one hand on her sleeve. She looked back at him curiously. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you about this, but,” he said, as the bell clanged overhead, “this is strictly off the record.”