For the Record (Record #3)(80)
Author: K.A. Linde

He glanced at her with tenderness in his eyes. He didn’t have to ask to know that Heather had sent her up here. One nod from him was all she needed to know that she was doing the right thing.

Reporters looked hesitant for a moment, unsure of whether she was taking questions. Brady started talking to the woman standing beside him. Liz waited patiently, not sure whether she should offer first. She had never done this before. Then one reporter stepped forward through the throng and stuck his microphone out toward her.

“Miss Dougherty, how did you and the Congressman meet?”

Liz sighed. That was an easy question. She could do this.

“At a press conference. I asked him a particularly troubling question. I don’t think he liked me very much,” she said with a wink.

The reporter laughed. A few others did too when they realized it was a joke. “Did you start a relationship that night?”

“Oh, no. It wouldn’t start until many weeks later. I wasn’t interested in getting involved with a state senator, but eventually he changed my mind.”

A particularly brave reporter stepped forward. “Was it simply a sexual relationship?”

Liz tried to keep from blushing, but wasn’t sure how well she succeeded. She glanced over at Brady and he seemed ready to jump in whenever he was needed. “No,” she barely whispered. Then louder. “No. Where my fiancé is concerned it was never purely physical. Next question, please.”

The questions turned from their relationship to who she was, what she enjoyed, what she was studying, her dreams and aspirations, and on and on. She was sure details about her life would show up in newspapers all over the country this week. Who was the mysterious Liz Dougherty?

She had once told Brady that the only secret she had was him, and now everyone knew that one. But she was strangely okay with it. Her place was at Brady’s side, and she wanted to see him to the White House. Their home, as Brady had jokingly called it.

Brady stepped away to do a video interview with a reporter, which Liz suspected would air in clips on the evening news. Her questions kept coming and she was surprised to find how exhausting it was. She had never considered how much work it was just to stand around and answer the incessant questions hurled at her. People were polite, but she couldn’t keep from feeling tired. But this was her life now, and she wanted to do her part. After Tuesday, she would return to D.C. to finish the semester and start planning her wedding to marry Brady. The thought strengthened her, and she kept going.

Numbers lessened and it looked as if they were about to close down the Halloween festival when one last reporter started asking Liz questions.

“How do you feel about the accusations of being called a slut, a whore, and a home wrecker?” she asked impassively.

Liz swallowed. She hated those names. They were so false and hurtful. “I’d encourage people to stop using those terms. Brady and I have been together for nine months now. It’s quite clear that those things aren’t true.”

“Nine months,” the woman said disapprovingly. “So, then you didn’t have his child? Or did you cover it up and have it hidden somewhere?”

Liz sputtered and then tried to collect herself. “No. We don’t have a child. I was never pregnant.”

“Why do you think that you can direct people as to what they think of you? And do you think it’s fair to tell them to stop calling you true names? You did rip apart the Congressman’s relationship with Miss Edwards.”

“People may think whatever they want, but I did not separate Erin and Brady. They broke up on their own terms months before we ever got back together.”

“Do you feel like a sham of a reporter standing here answering questions for your fake relationship?” the woman pushed.

Liz’s mouth dropped open. What the hell? How did she even respond to that? Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should just say no comment and retreat. The woman was trying to get a reaction out of her. It was tactless.

Before she could speak up, she felt a presence at her side. She was immediately grateful that Brady had returned, but looked up and found Clay. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I couldn’t help overhearing the wonderful conversation you were having. I thought I would answer some of these questions for Liz.”

Liz’s eyes widened. Oh fuck! That was not a good idea. She shook her head slightly to try to tell him to stop. But he just smiled that wicked grin, a dimple appearing.

“I’ve had the opportunity to witness Congressman Maxwell’s relationship with Liz since the beginning. Or at least almost the beginning,” he said with that same arrogant smile for Liz. Then he turned to face the reporter. “And if we’re evaluating reporter tactics, maybe you should reevaluate your own professionalism. My brother loves this woman very much. There was no adultery, no home wrecking, nothing distasteful about it at all. They only problem was that they fell in love at the wrong time. It’s a model relationship. One of commitment, dedication, honesty, and loyalty. Perhaps you should start bothering someone else with these kinds of questions, because there is nothing else to be found on my brother.”

Liz openly gaped at him. Where the hell had that come from?

“Thank you. We’ll take no more questions,” Clay said with a curt wave. He tucked Liz’s hand under his arm and then walked her away from the reporters.

When they were out of earshot, Liz finally found her voice. “What was that?”

“I believe I just defended your relationship with Brady to a particularly troubling reporter,” he answered.

“Yes. Thank you, but . . . what the hell was that, Clay?”

Clay shrugged and smiled down at her. He still had that uncanny amusement in his expression, but she saw that he was serious too. “What? I’m not completely heartless.”

“No. But you don’t agree with our relationship, and you certainly don’t believe in your brother.”

They stopped and Clay turned her to face him. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and a strange looked passed over his face. “Maybe someone proved me wrong.”

“Me?” she whispered.

“No someone else,” he said sarcastically. “Of course you. You’ve changed him. He loves you. There’s an . . . energy between you that is hard to explain, but it’s there. It’s obvious to everyone who knows him. And maybe . . . just maybe it makes me see what you had been telling me all along. Maybe he’s actually in this for the right reasons.” He paused and glanced off into the distance. “And not just because our father wanted it for him and not me.”