For the Record (Record #3)(83)
Author: K.A. Linde

“I know. But . . .”

“Let’s wait until the final results are tallied and then start talking blame.”

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess I’m just worried.”

His hand brushed back into her hair and then he kissed away every worry in her head. She had become his rock, his strength. He could give her some of what she always gave him when he got stressed out.

When he pulled back, she was unsteady on her feet, her lips slightly swollen, and a blush crept onto her face. “How do you do that?” she whispered.

“What?”

“Make me lose myself so completely with you.”

“Only giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

She smiled up at him and he was lost all over again. He wasn’t sure how he had ever thought that he could live without that smile. He knew that tonight was a big night for them. They had come out to the public about their relationship in February, knowing the consequences that might await him in November. Tonight they would find out if those consequences materialized.

Brady changed into a fresh black suit and knotted a navy tie with tiny red-and-white polka dots around his neck. He hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to be more nervous about getting the results in the second time he ran for Congress than the first. He had been in such an overwhelming state of depression when he had won two years ago that even though he had been nervous, his thoughts had automatically turned toward Liz. Wondering if he should have gone after her, wondering what she was doing, wondering if he had made the right decision.

Now he was on the precipice at the end of his first term, and similar questions plagued him. He was glad he had finally gone after her, and he knew that he had made the right decision. He just hoped that hadn’t cost him his job. Not that he would change a damn thing if he could do it over. She was worth it all.

Liz appeared in the entryway in a knee-length purple pleated dress he’d ordered for her from New York, and her Jimmy Choos. Around her neck hung the necklace he had gotten her so long ago. Diamond drops in her ears and a massive diamond ring on her finger told that she was all his. She would always be his.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her nerves from earlier already dissipated. She looked like strength, wearing what she called his campaign mask as if she had invented it.

He had always said that politics was a perfect balance of openness and restraint. It was what he loved so much about Liz. She had restraint in spades, but when she let go, it shook his world. She did everything with such unbridled tenacity, and went after the things she wanted headfirst, with a self-assurance that he had seen in few people.

“Very,” he replied.

“We should go. Everyone is probably waiting.”

“I’m so honored to have you at my side,” he told her.

“Honored?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” he said, closing the distance between them. “It’s an honor to have you there with me.”

“Well . . . I’m honored to be there.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about how we started.” He fingered the necklace dangling between her breasts. She narrowed her eyes. “I know that it wasn’t the best of scenarios, but it brought you into my life. We might be unconventional, but who needs convention? I fell in love with you. You stole me away, and I’m glad that you didn’t give me back.”

“Never,” she insisted.

“Good. Now let’s go win an election.” He kissed her lips and then they exited the house together.

A town car drove them to the grand hotel downtown, where Brady’s election party would be in full swing in one of their massive ballrooms. His friends and family were congregated in a small reception room, where they would receive the news. Everyone he cared about was in attendance, just the way it had always been. Liz had even included Victoria and Daniel in the festivities. Chris was there with his family. Brady kept a close eye on Lucas, whom he still didn’t trust near his sister. Luckily, Savannah had brought her boyfriend, Easton. The guy seemed all right. Had a good head on his shoulders.

His mother and father greeted them when they walked into the room. His father wouldn’t be up for reelection until next term, and it was nice to have his constant presence here for him during the hardest two elections of Brady’s career.

Heather and Elliott appeared next, as serious and reserved as ever. But he knew them well enough to know that they were nervous but excited. They wanted him to win. They had staked their careers on it. They were two of his closest friends.

In just a few minutes he would find out if it had all been worth it.

Liz wandered off to talk to Victoria and Savannah. They fawned over her dress and giggled about nonsensical things. He was glad they were there for her. He knew that she was as stressed and nervous about the outcome as he was.

Heather looked as though she wanted to say something, but he just smiled. “Excuse me for a minute.”

She nodded and returned to her conversation with Elliott. There was something he probably should have done a long time ago, but the election had gotten in the way.

He approached his brother, who was sitting there seemingly bored by whatever his girlfriend was going on about. Clay turned his gaze to meet Brady’s and his brother scowled.

“Andrea, do you think you could give us a minute?” Brady asked.

“Uh . . . sure. Whatever,” she said, grabbing her cocktail and walking away.

“Did you need something?” Clay asked. He already looked bored again.

Brady stuck his hand out. “I wanted to thank you for helping me.”

Clay stared down at his outstretched hand as if it might attack him. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. Thank you for your time and especially for what you did for Liz. I really appreciate it.”

Clay tentatively put his hand into Brady’s and they shook. “Well, she needed the help.”

“I know. Usually she doesn’t.”

“That’s the truth,” Clay agreed.

They dropped their hands and Clay stood awkwardly, as if he was waiting for Brady to lay into him for something.

“You know, this morning I was thinking about when we were younger and how Election Day used to be like Christmas.”

“Are we going to go into one of your stories?” Clay jeered.

Brady ignored him. It was just Clay’s usual sidestep. “We’d wake up early and go to the polls with our parents even before Savannah was born. We’d get ice cream at the victory after-party. As we got older something changed between us. I know it might not be salvageable, but hope that one day we can change that.”