For the Record (Record #3)(68)
Author: K.A. Linde

Brady had spoken with EMi the next day requesting a new representative, and within a day he had a meeting with a lanky man in a cheap suit named Gary who looked and acted nothing like an ex-girlfriend.

“So, what happened to Chelsea then?” Liz had asked after they met Gary.

Brady had shrugged. “I never asked. I’d assume if she still has a job that she was transferred out of the state.”

That put Liz at ease. It did make her feel bad that she had potentially gotten the woman fired, but then she had to remind herself that Chelsea was the one who had acted unprofessional. It had been the wrong circumstances. In the end, Liz could only think about herself and Brady, and it was better for them not to have her around.

It made Liz see their relationship with new eyes. Their relationship wasn’t damaged or hurt from what she had discovered. In fact, they were stronger than ever. If anything it was Liz’s hurt feelings that had clouded her mind when she had first found out about it. She hadn’t wanted to believe that he would do this, but her insecurities bloomed and she couldn’t see past it to the man who loved her. She had no such problem right now.

Brady’s eyes flickered to her once again as his campaign manager walked away to talk to some other people in the room. “You want to take a walk?”

She nodded. “That sounds nice.”

They exited the conference room and walked to the waiting area that led to the stage where Brady would be giving his speech. His family was standing there in a small circle, along with Andrea, Easton, and Chris. Liz peeked a look at the audience from their vantage point and gasped.

“What?” Brady asked, concerned.

“There are so many people.”

He smiled, bright and brilliant. “More than there were two years ago.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I mean, there were a lot of people for you then, but now . . . it’s packed.”

Two years ago they had nearly filled up a convention ballroom in Raleigh. This time Brady had chosen one twice as big as that on the UNC campus and it was filled to the brim with supporters and press. She could see the press line along the center of the room set up to film and photograph the events that were taking place. But the most beautiful thing of all was the sheer number of everyday citizens here to celebrate their own Congressman. Brady inspired people to take action, and it showed today.

“All here to hear your speech,” he said with a wink.

“No one is even going to know that I wrote it,” she insisted.

“Maybe.”

“They’re here for you, Congressman Maxwell. Not for your scandalous girlfriend.”

“I’m sure someone out there is here for the scandal,” he joked.

Liz rolled her eyes. “Yes, those people seem to be everywhere.”

Liz had managed to avoid the news as much as she could, but Heather was sending sporadic updates when Liz showed up in the papers. The rumors were vicious, and even though Brady insisted that the people were just jealous and looking for a story, she still didn’t like it.

Luckily she was swamped and didn’t have a ton of time to dwell on it. The only thing that she had managed to do in the small moments of spare time she had was to write another article for her Dear Congress column about the environmental fracking legislation that was going around right now. Funny to think that Chelsea had given her the idea.

The editor had turned her column into a biweekly thing, and she didn’t want to miss a post amid her hectic schedule. She had even put the blog with Justin on hold for the time being. She told him she would start up again once the primary was over. It was getting harder and harder to do everything that she had on her plate, but she was trying to keep up.

Chris appeared at their side while Liz was still peering out to Brady’s captivated audience. “Hey. Y’all ready?”

“Of course,” Brady answered immediately. “Good to have you here this year.”

“And you?” he asked Liz with his ever-present goofy grin.

“I’m not the one giving the speech.”

“Still, your first election and you look a little jittery.”

“Gah, am I that obvious?” The guys just shrugged. “What? Are y’all born with the ability to hold your nerves in during the election?”

“Just a lot of practice,” Brady told her, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“Well, where’s Mollie? This is her first election. She should be here nervous with me,” Liz said.

Chris glanced away and grit his teeth. “We, uh . . . broke up.”

“What?” she and Brady asked at the same time.

“You didn’t tell me,” Brady said.

“I know; you’re in the middle of an election.”

“What happened?” Liz asked.

Chris shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It actually happened after the fund-raising gala. Well, you know she left early for work stuff. That wasn’t the first time that happened. I was fed up with always coming behind work. She didn’t take it very well. It’s been kind of a rough week.”

That sucked. She liked Mollie, but Chris deserved someone who would put him first.

Brady glanced at her and she could see he was thinking the same thing. She was glad that they were on the same wavelength.

“Well, I just wanted to check on y’all. I’m not still in your speeches, am I?” Chris joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I got a new speechwriter,” he said, placing his arm around Liz’s shoulders. “And she insisted that I take you out of them.”

“Thank God. The man needed new material. I was tired of hearing my sad story replayed over and over again,” he said, nudging Brady. Then he turned to Liz. “So, you’re writing his speeches now, huh? Busy girl. Speeches, grad school, and those articles you’re writing.”

“I have to keep up with my boyfriend,” she joked.

Brady kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re the only one who can.”

Chris laughed softly. “I’m glad that Brady manned up and went after you. You two belong together.”

Brady’s team emerged from the back conference room and Chris took that as his cue to leave. Heather and Elliott led the group with Alex trailing, permanently attached to his iPad.

“We just received word that results will be in in a matter of minutes,” Heather told him.

All eyes turned to the mounted television screen, where muted broadcasts of the primary results were taking up the local news channel.