Off the Record (Record #1)(120)

Relationships were about compromise, and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t compromise his ideals, the campaign, or the country for anyone…not even Liz. Not even if he wanted to…

At least you’ll be out in the crowd. I’ll find you from the stage.

I think it’ll be really hard for you to find me. I’m with the press. You have your work cut out for you.

Airplanes, baby. I’ll find you.

Brady waited for her response, knowing that the time was ticking away faster than he would have liked. He was ready for his speech, ready to move forward. But sitting here chatting with Liz made him want time to stand still.

That was how he always felt with her. Time couldn’t move slowly enough. She was always just out of his grasp.

I have no doubts that you’ll find me. I’ll always be your airplane, but no hyperventilating onstage.

Always. Brady shook his head at that word. Always was a long time. He couldn’t give her always yet.

It’s going to be a busy campaign…

He didn’t even know why he had sent her that. Did he just want to instigate this conversation? He couldn’t help pressing her buttons and seeing how far he could push her. She always rebounded, but how long could he keep it up? She wasn’t completely elastic. There was some part of her that would crack and break if he pushed too hard.

So why was he even testing it? He needed her.

I know, Brady. I’m well aware.

You know this can’t be anything else right now. Just don’t forget, okay?

God! Why was he torturing her? How many times had he repeated that they couldn’t be together? He couldn’t seem to convince himself, so he felt the need to beat the words into her instead. Whatever he might want, he couldn’t have it until he saw the campaign through to the end.

Who are you trying to convince, Brady? You have a speech to give…I should probably let you go.

Brady felt as if she had just hung up on him, yet they weren’t even on the phone. He slid his phone back in his pocket and ground his teeth in frustration. That goddamn woman!

He wanted to make things right, but everything he did made it worse. Why had he fallen for her? Why couldn’t their relationship just have stayed exactly what it was when they started? Brady had met his match.

He would have to tell her. Tonight. He would tell her that he loved her, that he should have told her a long time ago, that once the campaign was over, he would give her what she wanted. He had been denying himself that long enough. He needed her to know. Once this was all said and done, he wanted to give her the world and more. He would set it right.

Yeah. It would have to be tonight after the primary. She would need to know. He would make her understand.

The door to the room creaked open and Elliott’s head appeared in the doorway. “Brady, it’s about that time.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to be able to recover?” Elliott asked him, moving into the room and shutting the door.

“Recover from what?” Brady asked, standing and straightening out his suit. He’d had someone pick him out a new one for the occasion, and after he had gotten it tailored, the thing fit perfectly. “I just won the primary.”

“As your lawyer, I should tell you that ditching your reporter would be in your best interest.” Brady narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I know she’s in the crowd. Yes, I know that you’ve still been seeing and talking to her.”

“What’s your point, Elliott?” he asked. His voice had a steely edge to it.

“As your friend, I’m sorry that you have such poor timing. I know you wouldn’t put your career at risk for just anyone,” Elliott said, walking over to Brady. They had known each other a very long time. “What is it about her?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now,” Brady said sternly. He couldn’t think about Liz after the abrupt end to their conversation. “I have a campaign to win.”

Brady brushed past Elliott and walked to the door.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Elliott asked when Brady reached for the door handle.

“Frankly, it doesn’t matter at this point,” Brady said, before swinging the door open and exiting.

Brady walked back toward the stage, knowing his time was almost up. Campaign staffers and friends patted his shoulder and congratulated him as he walked by. He forced on what Liz called his campaign mask and accepted all of their praise with poise and charm.

His family was waiting for him at the stage. His father looked happy. Brady knew that his father had always wanted him to enter politics. Brady had practically been bred for it. He was achieving what his father had always hoped for his son.

His father’s arm was sitting loosely around his mother’s waist. She had short blond hair styled into a bob. She had frequently been compared to Jackie O for her style, beauty, and intelligence. She smiled warmly at her son, a proud gleam in her eye.

Clay and Savannah stood side by side wearing drastically different expressions. Clay, as usual, looked bored and as if he would prefer to be anywhere else. Brady didn’t even know why Clay even still showed up to events for him. The longer Clay was around Brady, the less pleasant he became. Savannah, however, was bursting with energy. He and Savannah had always gotten along better than he did with Clay. She was excited for him, and Brady could tell she wanted to crush him with hugs, but she was restraining herself.