For the Record (Record #3)(35)

Once dessert was cleared and it was clear that they weren’t going to pull Victoria and Daniel away from Brady’s mother anytime soon, Brady stood and offered her his hand. “Dance?”

She glared at him. “You know I don’t dance.”

“I can make anyone look good.”

“Yes, I know, but that was before anyone knew who I was.”

Brady pushed his hand forward, telling her very clearly that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Liz, please.”

Oh, and he asked nicely. She dropped her hand in his and let him help her up. “Only because you begged,” she whispered cattily.

“I won’t be the only one later tonight,” he growled into her ear as he directed her to the dance floor.

She bit her lip. “I’ll promise to act like I don’t enjoy it.”

“Sounds like someone needs a spanking to remember who is in charge.”

Her cheeks felt warm as she moved into his arms on the dance floor. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t do.”

He twirled her around the floor and she focused on keeping up, but his eyes were gleaming with triumph at stumping her. “What if I enjoy it?” she finally asked him.

He smiled. “Then I’ll spank harder.”

“You should put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I will,” he said, shifting her closer. “And my money is all over your body right now.”

An image of Brady’s mouth touching every inch of her body flew into her mind, and she licked her lips at the thought. Oh, yes, she wouldn’t mind any of this one bit.

The song ended and Brady, knowing what was good for him, pulled her off of the dance floor. She smiled up at him, lost in their own world. Here she was in a red silk Versace dress, Jimmy Choos, and Tiffany earrings at a charity banquet with her boyfriend, a sitting congressman. She knew this was some kind of fairy tale, but she didn’t mind living it for a night.

Then she turned around to go find refreshments, and came face-to-face with Erin Edwards.

“Oh,” Liz whispered. She didn’t know what else to say when confronted with the woman who had singlehandedly lost Liz her job at the New York Times.

“Hi,” Erin said with an easy, casual smile that Liz immediately recognized as the woman’s version of a campaign mask. She looked pretty with her dark hair in loose waves to her shoulders. She was wearing a soft blue floor-length dress with extensive beading that came up over one shoulder.

“Hello, Erin. I didn’t know you would be in attendance tonight,” Brady said formally, not taking his hand off of Liz’s waist.

“I received tickets last minute.”

Liz glanced around to see if anyone had noticed that they were all talking. The last thing she wanted was for it to end up in the paper that they’d had a confrontation with Erin.

“How have you been?” Brady asked, as if she hadn’t sold them out to the press. But of course it made sense. They had to look like they played well with others. Over the course of his life Brady had acquired restraint in talking to people in public.

“Fine. Just fine.” Erin took a step forward, lowering her voice. “How are you? Are you happy?”

This at least Brady could answer with ease. “Yes. Very.”

Erin nodded and tried to hide the pain that crossed her face. It was then that Liz realized she had been looking at all of this wrong. Erin wasn’t out to get them. She hadn’t even been after her fifteen minutes of fame. She was a morning anchor, after all. She was on television every day. She was just a hurt woman still very much in love with Brady.

Liz knew that feeling. She knew what it felt like to be standing in Erin’s shoes. Erin had probably thought that she and Brady would be a power couple, and when it had ended, she hadn’t known what to do. Liz had wallowed for months after she and Brady separated, holding her secret to herself for over a year. Erin had gone straight to the press when she had put everything together, or so she thought. The other woman had done it because she was hurt, thinking that she had loved Brady for nothing even while they had been together.

Maybe Erin wasn’t the bad guy after all. Staring at her looking so small in the banquet hall made Liz actually feel . . . sorry for her.

Losing Brady had been terrible. Liz could understand what she was going through.

“Well . . . well good,” Erin said, forcing a smile back on her face. “I just wanted to check. I know things are . . . tense.”

That was one word for it.

“But I just wanted to talk to you . . .” she continued, “to see how you were doing.”

“We’re doing just fine,” Brady said, emphasizing the we. “I hope you’re doing the same.”

“Yes, of course,” Erin said, stalling. “I should say that I’m sorry, Liz.”

Liz fidgeted. She hadn’t expected Erin to even address her. “Oh?”

“I’m sorry for making things worse than they are. I understand how the press can be.”

Liz wasn’t sure how sincere her apology was, since she had only just talked to the press this week. Maybe she had made a rash decision like Hayden had. A couple days after selling her out to the newspaper, Hayden had tried to apologize too. She wondered if Hayden had been feeling the same thing that Erin had—that he had made a mistake, he loved her, and wanted to make it all right. It was too little too late for both of them at this point.