Off the Record (Record #1)(74)
Author: K.A. Linde

Liz locked eyes with Hayden for a second and then she broke the look. He had been talking about her…

“Thanks for ratting me out,” he said, chuckling softly. “We were heading out. Are you guys still good for drinks this weekend?”

“Definitely,” Topher agreed.

“Depends,” Phillip said, leaning in close to Hayden and raising his eyebrows. “Is Jamie coming out with you?”

Hayden groaned. “That’s my sister, man.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“You’re sick.”

“We’ll see you out this weekend,” Topher said, smacking the back of Phillip’s head. “It was nice to meet you, Liz.”

“You too,” she said with a confident smile.

“Let’s get out of here,” Hayden said, glaring at Phillip, but Liz could see the humor in his eyes.

They left the building and walked out into the parking lot toward Liz’s car. Hayden slid out of his jacket and tie before they even made it all the way to where she was parked.

“Do you want me to drive?” he asked. “I know a place we can park your car near my sister’s place. Then you don’t have to try to navigate D.C. traffic.”

“Um, yes!” she said immediately. “Please drive me back through that madness.” She tossed him the keys and walked to the passenger side.

He laughed as he popped the door and sat down. “Geez, how short are you?” he asked as he adjusted the seat back for his long legs.

“You’re just tall,” Liz said with a shrug.

Hayden pulled out of the parking lot and started driving them away from the capital area. There was a surprising amount of traffic. Not that she was unfamiliar with traffic, but D.C. rush hour pretty much took the cake. Nearly forty-five minutes later, Hayden had the car parked in a street spot.

“This is as close as we’re going to get. Is this okay with you?” he asked, putting the car into park.

“Absolutely not. I want to go back out in that terrible mess for another hour, please,” Liz said with a laugh as she pushed her door open. “Get me out of here!”

“At least you weren’t driving,” Hayden said.

“A silver lining!” Liz opened the trunk, and Hayden reached in before she got a chance and pulled her suitcase out. He set it on the ground and rolled it behind him the whole way to the apartment, ignoring her objections.

They stopped in front of a brick building that looked like all of the other brick buildings it was attached to, but Hayden seemed to know where he was going. He pulled a key out of his pocket and let them in.

“Top floor,” he told her, motioning up the stairs.

She walked up five exhaustingly long flights of stairs as Hayden walked behind her carrying her suitcase. She did not envy him. Huffing, Liz finally landed at the top floor. She dropped her hands to her knees and caught her breath. Hayden appeared next to her with his ever-present smile, not even breathing hard.

“How are you not dying? I feel ridiculous,” she said, looking up at him.

“I run marathons,” Hayden said with a shrug.

“I play tennis and I’m dying.”

“Do you run up stairs while playing tennis?” he asked.

“Do you run up stairs in your marathons?” Liz straightened and looked up into his hazel eyes.

“Fair point. However, I do run over twenty-six miles.”

“Shoot me,” she said.

He tilted his head and smiled at her as if he was trying to hold back from saying something. She wasn’t sure what it was, but his eyes were assessing her. Had she done something wrong?

“My place is down here,” he said, pointing down the hall.

They reached the end of the hall and entered the apartment. It was homey, with a clear feminine touch. Paintings of various mediums—oil, acrylic, and watercolor—covered much of the wall space, nearly all of them unbelievably perfect depictions of landscapes with the occasional portrait and abstract thrown into the collection. The furniture was in all earth tones, and candles were on every table as well as the mantel of the fireplace. Liz instantly felt comfortable in the apartment.

“Is she here?” Liz heard a voice call from off in the other direction.

“Yeah, Jamie, come out of the studio,” Hayden called back, placing Liz’s suitcase off to the side and closing the door.

“Oh my God, hi!” Jamie said, rounding the corner draped in a paint-splattered apron. She looked nothing like Hayden, with a chin-length black bob with red highlights and long bangs that swept across her forehead and tucked behind her ear. She was shorter than Liz, with a naturally tiny frame. The one quality it seemed she and Hayden shared was her charismatic smile.

“Hey,” Liz said as Jamie walked right up to her.

“I would totally hug you, but I can’t guarantee you wouldn’t get paint all over you!”

Liz laughed. “That’s all right.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

That was a common sentiment, it seemed. Topher and Phillip had said something similar, and now his sister was reiterating the same thing. How much had Hayden talked about her?

It was nice, though. As daunting as it was to come up to D.C., she liked at least getting the opportunity to meet people. She had hidden all summer and had forgotten how much she liked to spend time with other people.

“Hayden wasn’t sure what you wanted for dinner, but he said he already knew that you liked Italian. I happen to make some kick-ass lasagna,” Jamie said, bubbly and friendly. Liz couldn’t have kept a smile from her face if she tried. “I hope you don’t mind staying in to eat. We can go out if you want. I’m cool with that. Whatever y’all want! I just get super exhausted after driving for a long time and prefer to nap instead of going out. You might not be like that…”

“Jamie,” Hayden said, shaking his head, “breathe.”

Jamie rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry. So, what do you want to do?” she asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her toes.

“Ignore her. I swear she gets hopped up on caffeine when she’s in her studio,” he said, nudging Liz.

“Whatever, Hayden. I’m being accommodating, and you’re being an ass.”

“Lasagna sounds great,” Liz cut in, knowing a family brawl when she saw it. “Thank you.”

“Great! I’ll get started on that then,” Jamie said, bounding back into her studio.

“I’m going to go change,” Hayden told Liz. “You can bring your stuff into my room. We don’t have a guest room, so I’m taking the couch.”