Off the Record (Record #1)(36)
Author: K.A. Linde

“I want to see you,” she breathed into the line.

“Yeah, I think you mentioned that this morning.”

“I know you said it was your terms. I know you said that it was only when you were free…” she trailed off.

“And you agreed,” he growled into the phone. “Are you backing out?”

“No,” she answered hastily. “Quite the contrary. I want you to be free now.”

She couldn’t believe she had blurted it out. It was what she was thinking, but she usually kept her thoughts reserved. Still, it wasn’t a lie. She had gone a long time without him. She knew she had work to catch up on, the paper to do research for, and a portfolio she needed to compile for her professor, but she couldn’t concentrate on any of that when he was on her mind.

“I said the things I said this morning because I’m a very busy person.”

“I know you are. I follow your campaign schedule,” she said.

He chuckled softly into the phone. “I’m sure you do.”

“Brady, it’s been two weeks. That kiss in the auditorium wasn’t enough. Not enough for me…or for you,” she stated boldly. Whatever was going on with them was something she had to push forward with head-on. If she hesitated too much, she started wondering if she was being used, and she couldn’t think about that. She was getting out of it what she could, and what she wanted was Brady.

He sighed as if he was contemplating her assessment. She didn’t know what he was thinking. Did he think she was being difficult, when she had relented so easily in the diner this morning?

“What are you doing on Sunday?” he finally asked.

“Sunday?” she said, surprised. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but Brady kept shattering every expectation she had.

“Yes.”

“Um…nothing. I don’t have any plans.”

“Good. Don’t make any.”

Liz bit her lip and felt like jumping up and down. This meant she got to see Brady. She tried not to pout at the thought of waiting three more days. At least she was getting to see him. She knew what kind of schedule he was already working, after announcing his candidacy only a couple of weeks ago. She should be glad for any time with him…even if she wanted him sooner than that.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“It’ll be a surprise. I’ll send a driver to collect you from the same diner around eight.”

“In the morning?”

“Not a morning person, are you?”

Liz was already shaking her head. “No.”

“You can nap on the drive.”

Liz heard someone call out to Brady through the phone and she froze even though she knew they couldn’t see or hear her. She felt as if their time was entirely private. They were sharing a secret that no one knew about, and in that second it brought a smile to her face.

“Yeah, give me one more minute,” Brady’s muffled voice came through the phone as he spoke to someone in the room. She heard the door click shut again and then Brady spoke. “I have to go. Sunday at eight at the diner.”

“Do I need to bring anything with me?” she asked.

“No. I prefer you in nothing.”

Liz’s entire body heated as she hung up the phone and thought about the last time he had seen her like that. She didn’t want to think about anything else until Sunday. Unfortunately, she had a mountain of work, but at least in this moment, she could daydream about her politician.

Franklin Street was dead as Liz stood in front of the diner. She yawned and tried to wake up. Early mornings were a killer, especially since she couldn’t get to sleep last night. She was too antsy about getting to see Brady. She didn’t even know where they were going, and it didn’t really matter. She just wanted to be with him.

A black town car slowed to a stop directly in front of her. Was this real life? She pulled open the door and sat down on the black interior. She glanced around the car, deflated when she saw that Brady wasn’t already in it. She figured they would be picking him up along the way.

“Morning, Ms. Carmichael,” the driver said, turning around and giving her a smile.

It took her still-drowsy mind a minute to piece together that she was actually Ms. Carmichael. Of course Brady would tell the driver to pick up Sandy Carmichael and not Liz Dougherty. And thus, her secret identity was now a reality.

“Good morning,” she said, stifling a yawn.

The man chuckled. “You can call me, Greg. Buckle up. We have about an hour drive ahead of us,” he said, continuing down the empty street.

“All right. Thank you,” she answered politely. An hour away. Where was he taking her that was an hour away? She could drive pretty much in any direction and hit a major city an hour outside of Chapel Hill. When they had talked on the phone, Brady hadn’t given her any clues, and she didn’t suspect the driver would be any help either. He was paid to get her there and no more.

She wanted to nap on the drive, but despite sleep deprivation she was too excited to rest. Plus, she had actually taken the time to do her hair and put on makeup. The last thing she needed was to show up, wherever they were going, with a print from the car on her face.

Instead, she pulled out her notepad that she always kept tucked away in her purse, right next to her handy-dandy voice recorder, and started flipping through her scribbled notes for her next article on the upcoming election. She had received another B paper from her professor. Professor Mires thought she was getting closer to the target, but she still had a lot of work to do. Liz had never tried so hard in her entire life to meet the expectations of one of her instructors. And she would be damn sure that she excelled.

By the time they pulled off the interstate, she had constructed an outline for the article. She tilted her head to the side as she rearranged some of the words. It didn’t feel exactly right yet. She didn’t know what she was missing and it was frustrating her. Maybe it would be better once she actually sat down and typed it all out.

“Nearly there, Ms. Carmichael,” Greg said, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“Fantastic,” Liz said, dropping her pen into her purse and straightening to inspect her surroundings.

They were rolling down a narrow street where the lines had all but disappeared. Trees lined the craggy-looking road as tall as the eye could see, and they leaned forward, creating a tunnel through which to drive. They could be anywhere in the North Carolina countryside right now.