Off the Record (Record #1)(63)
Author: K.A. Linde

“You think pretty highly of yourself. I sure hope you never go through the trouble of running for office,” she said with a genuine smile.

He laughed out loud and set his drink on the table. “So, you’re saying that you approve of the Maxwell family taking over the political field?”

“We’ll see how the primary goes first,” she said diplomatically.

“Spoken like a true politician. Are you running for office?” He leaned forward as if to get the inside scoop.

“Definitely not,” she said.

“Maybe reconsider it.”

“And would I have your vote, considering what you think about politicians?” Liz asked, leaning forward to match him.

“I don’t give away my vote freely, but I think I’d let you take it,” he drawled. “You want to run against a Maxwell?”

“Maybe I’ll wait for an open seat.” She took another sip of her drink. His eyes followed the movement.

The room gradually fell silent all around them, and Liz broke his gaze to look up at the entrance. Standing just inside the double doors, directly across from her table, stood Brady. He looked un-fucking-believable. He seriously got better-looking every time she saw him. He wore a black tux, and his hair had been styled to perfection. Everything just fit him as if it had been made for his body, and all she wanted to do was get him out of it.

She zeroed in on him, and then slowly, as if she were zooming out with a camera, she saw everything else. And what she saw made her stomach drop.

A woman. No, not just any woman. A freaking gorgeous woman. Model thin, above-average height, long, lustrous hair, flawless skin, and an expensive-dress-and-jewelry kind of woman. A woman with her hand holding on to Brady’s elbow as if…she was there with him. With her Brady.

“Why am I not surprised?” the guy said next to her. “See what I mean by not judging on character alone? I’m sure he’s sleeping with her.”

Liz’s fingers clenched into the cloth on the table as her heart sped up. Three days ago she had been meeting Brady’s best friend for the first time. While Brady hadn’t said that he was going to the event alone, she hadn’t thought he would show up with some other woman on his arm. Not after telling Liz that he didn’t want anyone near her. Now he was here with some other woman?

Her death glare must have drawn Brady’s attention, because his eyes found her easily in the crowd. They stayed like that for only a couple of seconds, but she was sure he grasped the heat in her stare. His eyes traveled away from her, but jerked back to her almost immediately. He looked at her as if he was trying to puzzle out an answer, and then he looked away.

She felt sick. She needed to get away from there.

“Liz,” Chris called, appearing out of nowhere. “Sorry I was held up.” He looked over at the guy she had been standing with and clapped him on the back. “Hey, man. How’s law school treating you? Are you liking Yale?”

Liz wanted to disappear. She was fuming. She knew deep down she had no right to be angry about this. They couldn’t be out in public, but that didn’t mean he could bring someone else! She wanted to be that woman right now! His girl. She had never wanted to be in anyone else’s shoes as much as she did at that moment.

“Doing just fine. I see you know Liz,” he said, using her name without any effort, as if he had known it all along rather than only after Chris had just said it.

“Oh, you know Liz?” Chris asked, sounding confused. “She’s here with me.” Chris touched her elbow, and it took everything she had not to wrench it out of his grasp. “I didn’t know you had already met Clay,” he said, turning to face Liz.

That snapped her out of her anger for a second. “What?” Liz asked, her brows scrunched.

The guy Chris had called Clay smirked and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Liz took his hand and shook it. “Clay Maxwell.”

“Maxwell,” she muttered, stunned.

“So…you haven’t met?” Chris asked, trying to judge the situation.

“We met at the Fourth of July rally,” Clay told Chris, “and then again just now.”

Clay. Maxwell. Fuck. Of course, it was Clay Maxwell. The only other person she had found interesting, attractive, and engaging had been Brady’s brother. Great!

Liz glanced back over at Brady, who had started talking to his guests and posing for pictures along the way. His parents were standing behind him and to the left. Heather and that same beady-eyed guy from the club were standing to his right. She would be sure to avoid them. Heather was one of the few who knew her indirectly.

But what was worse, the woman Brady was standing with had her arm on his sleeve and followed at his side the whole time. Liz felt heat rise to her face as her stomach constricted into a million impossibly tight knots. She swallowed down a lump in her throat and balled her hands into fists at her sides. She would have clutched onto the fabric of her dress, but she didn’t want to ruin it.

“Are you feeling all right?” Clay asked Liz, reaching out and touching her arm.

Chris looked over at Liz, concerned. “Do you need to sit down?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. She tried to rein in her rising anger, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. She kept trying to tell herself that she had no right to be angry, but that felt like a lie.

Liz turned her head away from Brady and the woman on his arm. She couldn’t keep staring at them. It made her nauseous to see them together.

“Maybe we should go get you some water,” Chris suggested.

“Water. Hmm,” she mused, remembering how she and Brady had driven to Chris’s house for water. She took a few slow breaths, trying to calm down. “No, I think I’m fine. Already recovering. Must have been the claustrophobia.”

“Well, it’s good you’re feeling better. I unfortunately have to go find the rest of my family. It was good seeing you again, Liz. Chris,” Clay said, thrusting his hand out. Clay and Chris shook formally, as if they were on opposite sides of an irresolvable war. Clay flashed her a smile and turned to leave. He only took a step before Brady materialized before him, with his date in tow.

“Clay,” Brady said with a smile. It was a campaign smile. Liz could read it a mile away.

“Brady,” Clay responded. “Nice party.” He made it sound like a joke.

“Thanks. Mind taking a picture? We can do a family one later.”