Off the Record (Record #1)(40)

How romantic, she grumbled in her head.

“I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I’m giving you what I can give you, and I’m telling you in advance you might get hurt. But it’s worth it to take the risk. I can damn well promise you that it’s worth it.”

He paused, waiting for her to say something. She wanted to tell him, Yes, God yes, a thousand times yes! But so much of this worried her. He was offering her so much, but holding back even more. What if she got invested? What the hell! She was already invested!

She couldn’t take more of him than he was offering, but if she turned him down, then she wouldn’t have any of him. One night in a dark hotel room wasn’t enough for her. It could never be enough.

Sitting there at a turning point, she remembered the feeling when she left the party in Charlotte. It was impulsive and downright insane compared to her normal behavior, but she had known then as she knew now that if she said no, she would regret it forever.

Liz never wanted to regret Brady Maxwell.

“All right,” she murmured, threading her fingers together.

“All right?”

“I agree to whatever we’re doing.”

Brady’s smile was entirely magnetic, taking her breath away. She wanted to be the reason for that smile, and every other one after it.

“So, what exactly are we doing?” she asked hesitantly.

“Do you still have that card I gave you?” She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling it out of her wallet. He pointed out the different numbers. “This is my personal line. It’s best that you don’t try to reach me on it. I don’t check it or give it out frequently, because I suspect it’s being tapped. My parents and a couple college friends still use it, but that’s about it.”

Liz couldn’t imagine this kind of life. What were the other numbers for?

“This is my campaign line. It’s specifically for campaign-related information. I am always on it. I don’t think it’s been tapped by the opposition yet, but we’ll see how it goes. You can reach me on this one during the day. It would look strange for it to go off any other time. This number goes directly to my secretary. Right now her name is Nancy, but they come and go. She is the easiest way to get hold of me.”

Liz was buzzing with all of the information. Three separate lines for three separate things, and all to reach one man.

“So, I just call and ask for you?”

“Yes. She’ll ask for your name, and you’ll give her a fake one,” he instructed her.

“You’ve really thought his through, huh?” she asked, staring at him with newfound intrigue.

“It’s my job to think everything through,” he told her.

“If you did, then you wouldn’t have passed down that education bill,” she retorted.

Brady stared at her blankly, a look she had come to associate as his campaign mask. How had she come to know his faces so well already?

“Are you done?”

Liz shrugged. “Don’t use that face with me.”

“What face?” he asked, scrunching his brows together.

“Your campaign face. All serious with no emotion. I know you’re thinking something underneath there,” she said.

“You don’t want to know everything I’m thinking.”

“I beg to differ,” Liz told him.

“We’ll get to that later,” Brady said, shaking his head. “For now, let’s get on the same page, like calling my secretary to get hold of me.”

“How are you going to know it’s me if I give a fake name?”

“Well, choose one now and then I’ll know it.”

Liz shrugged. “I don’t know what to choose. What do you want me to be—Sandy Carmichael or something?” she asked, chuckling.

“Sure,” Brady agreed. “Sandy Carmichael it is then.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“You picked it.”

“Fine,” Liz said. It was an alias, after all. It didn’t matter.

“That’s the main thing,” he said, checking his watch. “There’s some more, but we can talk about that later. I think my time is up.”

“All right,” she said, standing as he did the same. “Should I contact you or…will you contact me?”

Brady smiled. “Already anxious to see me again.”

“As if you aren’t to see me,” she whispered.

“Touché,” he volleyed. “Until next time, Ms. Carmichael.”

She glared at him, hating the stupid name she had chosen. All she really wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face. Well, kiss the smirk off his face. Okay, she really wanted to do a lot more than that.

They walked away from their booth and toward the front. He smiled at her, but was clearly trying to conceal his pleasure at being in her company. Liz was sure she wasn’t hiding it as well as he was.

She stopped him at the door. “Good-bye, Senator Maxwell,” she said sweetly, looking up at him with anything-but-innocent eyes.

Liz turned to leave, but he put one hand on her sleeve. She looked back at him curiously. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you about this, but,” he said, as the bell clanged overhead, “this is strictly off the record.”