For the Record (Record #3)(62)
Author: K.A. Linde

Justin just squeezed her tighter. Something seemed to catch his eye and he stood up straighter. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“The life of the fucking party. Obviously,” Victoria said, strutting out on the patio in a silver minidress that barely covered her ass, and black high heels. Daniel followed on her heels in a checkered button-down and black shorts. He had black-rimmed glasses on, and they worked for him.

“Vickie!” Liz cried. “If I’d known you were driving down from D.C., then we could have ridden together.”

“Last-minute change of plans. We didn’t think we’d be here,” she said.

“Hey, man,” Brady said, shaking hands with Daniel.

“ ’Sup. How’s the campaign?” Daniel asked. He ran a hand back through his hair, then stuffed his hands back into his pockets.

“Smooth sailing so far. How was the summer lab work?”

Liz stared between them, dumbfounded.

“What are you guys, like, buddy-buddy now?” she asked when she got closer to Brady.

“Daniel is a good guy. My mother introduced him to a colleague he worked for this summer. We kept in touch.”

“Networking really is your thing, isn’t it,” she said.

“It’s not what you know but who. That’s why I wanted to help you find a journalism position earlier this year, but I should have known you could do it all on your own.” He kissed the top of her head and drew her in closer.

“I am a bit stubborn.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A bit? You make a filibuster look like compromise.”

“Oh, ha-ha. I’m not that bad. I don’t need sixty senators to get me to change my mind.”

Brady tried to hold in his laughter, but he wasn’t able to and it erupted out of him. “I’m hoping you’re only going to need one.”

“You’re not a Senator yet, Representative Maxwell.”

“Give me a few years.”

“You’re as strong-willed as I am.”

“Just as ambitious.”

Liz shook her head. “No one is ambitious as you.”

“That’s why I always win.”

Liz smiled and hoped that remained a fact. She didn’t want to be the reason he lost; that was for sure. She would do everything in her power to ensure that didn’t happen.

Justin started crowding everyone down to the fire pit. They spent an exorbitant amount of time building it to extreme heights. It reached a full inferno just as the sun fell over the horizon. By then even Brady seemed to have reached a tipsy point, which rarely happened.

“I can’t believe we’re having a bonfire when it’s a hundred degrees outside,” Victoria complained.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not wearing any clothing then, or else you might be hot,” Justin joked.

“Hilarious, asshole.”

“It is ridiculously hot,” Liz agreed. “Aren’t you glad you’re not in a suit?”

Brady glanced up from his phone. “I would be sweltering in a suit.”

“Are you working?”

“Just Chelsea.”

Liz crinkled her nose. “Why does she always text you? Just tell her to schedule a meeting or something,” Liz said, the alcohol making her haughtier than she normally would have been.

“All right,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll turn it off. No work this weekend.”

“Heather is going to love that.”

Brady tucked the phone back into his pocket. “Who cares?”

As the night wore on, the numbers around the bonfire started dwindling. A lot of the people who had been there were locals, so they just headed home. There were only a few other people from out of town. As expected, Massey was completely passed out in Justin’s lap while he smoked a cigarette. He passed one to one of his frat brothers who had driven up for the party, and he lit up.

“So Liz, what are you doing up in D.C. besides working for me? You just hanging out doing charity work for starving puppies or whatever the other Stepford Wives do up there?” Justin asked, blowing out smoke.

“Justin, you’re such a twat,” Victoria spat. She adjusted her tiny dress and rolled her eyes. “Liz could never be a Stepford Wife.”

“She really couldn’t,” Brady chimed in. “She’s too strong-willed and independent.”

“Well, we all know that I wasn’t a GDI,” Justin said, laughing to himself.

“You’re reminding me why I’m a goddamn independent and not Greek.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, babe.” Everyone groaned.

“Anyway I’ve mostly been writing for you and following Brady to campaign events before grad school starts,” Liz said.

“Give yourself some credit.” Brady nudged her. “You’ve practically been writing my speeches all summer. If you weren’t already set on journalism, then I might suggest speech communications. You’re better than my speechwriter.”

Liz beamed at his compliment. “Thank you.” She had never considered speech communications or even speech writing before Brady, but she did enjoy it.

“You’re at Maryland, right?” Justin asked. “How much is that going to interfere with the site?”

“I’ll make time. I like the blog.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Justin turned his attention back to his cigarette.

Liz glanced over at Brady. “It completely slipped my mind until Justin just mentioned it, but when we were at the JJ gala I was asked what charity I’m heading.”

“You’re not heading a charity.”

“Well, yes. I know that. But I told them I was working with underprivileged children and education. I figured it was a politician’s truth.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “You mean you want to do the work?”

“I don’t want to head any charity,” she quickly amended, “but you know how passionate I am about education, especially reform in primary education. I thought it would be an easy thing to move into and I thought . . . you know . . . since, well . . . you know people.”

Brady eyed her curiously. “Are you asking for my help?”

“I thought it might be good to have something to stand behind while I stand beside you.”

“Are you sure you want to add more work to your plate?”

“It isn’t work,” she insisted. “It’s doing something I believe in and helping people less fortunate. The same thing that you’re doing in Congress, just on a different scale.”