For the Record (Record #3)(88)

“Oh, don’t y’all know the gossip? I’m a slutty home wrecker who caught the guy by getting pregnant.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “I’m at least six months now and not even showing. Such a mystery.”

“Well, obviously you got rid of it once you trapped him. That’s a thing,” Victoria said dismissively.

“That’s how I trapped him, after all,” Chris said, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Getting you pregnant was the most awkward experience of my life,” Brady joked.

“If only the reporters could hear you now,” Liz said.

“Let’s thank God that they cannot.”

They arrived at the building just on time. Brady was rushed away by the hair and makeup team. Chris teased him incessantly about it until the door closed behind him. They were given a brief tour of the studio Brady was using, which wasn’t much more than a few workrooms, a changing area, wardrobe, and then the main set with a green screen and very expensive camera equipment. Their escort left them to sit on a couch where they could see what was being filmed, but not interfere. Plus, there were doughnuts!

Thirty minutes later, Brady appeared from makeup. He looked like himself and not. An even more perfect version of himself.

“His flawless face has to withstand the high-definition lighting and camera work,” a man explained when Chris started to make fun of him again.

“You look great,” she encouraged.

“I would kiss you right now, if it didn’t mean I would have to spend another thirty minutes in makeup.” He looked weary of the chore, and it made her giggle. Served men right to see what women had to go through on a regular basis.

Liz had heard Brady memorizing lines for the commercial earlier this week. She hadn’t had time to work with him on what he was saying, but she knew that he would be brilliant. Also, in film there were dozens of takes, so they could get it perfect.

Brady thumbed through a stack of note cards and turned the phrases over in his mouth before the director walked him over to the comfortable brown chair. They had a couple different furniture pieces, from the chair to a podium to a large presidential-looking desk. They wanted to see which one suited him best with the lines delivered. The backdrop would be chosen from a computer screen, likely an American flag or a cozy study.

And so they began. The first thirty minutes it was interesting to watch the new experience. Brady had done ad spots before, so he knew the drill, but Liz had never seen any of this. Victoria, however, got bored very easily and ended up spending much of the time texting with Daniel on her phone.

“You know,” she said, “we should have dropped him off and went and looked at wedding dresses.”

“You’re probably right.”

“How much longer do we have? We could still go,” she offered, looking up.

“I have no idea. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with dresses, though. Plus, you know I’m not really getting started with that stuff until after the campaign.”

Victoria sighed heavily and sank back into her seat. “I know. Have you decided anything, though? Fill me in! I miss you! I’m stuck in school all damn day and I need something lavish and entertaining to fill my travel-deprived mind.”

Liz laughed lightly at her dramatic friend, but told her everything they had decided in the three weeks since Brady had proposed. “Brady wants to do a Biltmore wedding in Asheville.”

“Holy f*ck! How much is that going to cost?”

“Do you think I’m going to ask that?” Liz’s gaze shot to Brady. “His parents were married there and it’s gorgeous. I’m really excited to visit and see the gardens.”

“Fuck. I can’t wait. What else? What groomsmen do I have to choose from?” she asked with a wink.

“Aren’t you bringing Duke Fan?” Liz asked with a hesitant smile. She never really knew with Victoria.

“Oh yeah. Of course, but maybe he’ll be up for playing.”

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Probably not,” she conceded.

“Back on topic. I’m thinking just you and Savannah for bridesmaids. That means Brady will have Chris and Clay.”

“He’s actually going to take that arrogant brother of his?” Victoria asked, surprised.

Liz had wondered the same thing. She had been happily surprised when Brady had said he wanted Clay in the wedding. Clay . . . the man who had tried to sleep with her and hated everything about Brady’s career. “I think deep down he loves him.”

Liz hadn’t even realized that Chris had slipped away until he returned, looking frazzled. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

“I need to speak with Brady,” he said, averting his gaze.

“You can’t. If you interrupt him with your news then he’ll never finish his commercial. At the very least, he’ll never reach the same level of composure,” she told him. “Not the way you look right now.”

“Just spill,” Victoria said, standing between them.

“I had a call from Mollie.”

“About what? I thought y’all were broken up,” Liz said gently.

“We are.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Liz.”

“Sorry about what?” she asked cautiously. Instinctively she braced herself for what was coming.