On the Record (Record #2)(2)



“Why not? Just go home with him. Have a good f**k and move on from the summer. The summer is over. You can’t change anything that happened, but you don’t have to let it make your decisions for you.”

“I’m not,” Liz said, but there was no conviction in her voice. How could she ever explain? Letting Brady go felt like a bigger loss than just walking out of the primary party. But she had walked out. She had made her own decision, and it didn’t sit well with her that Victoria implied that she was still allowing Brady to control her.

Tristan, one of her freshman helpers at the college paper, came running into the room and broke through her thoughts. He craned his neck around, and Liz waved her hand in the air to signal him. He darted over and stood before her in perfectly pressed khaki pants, a navy polo, and a black jacket. The only thing giving away that he had been in a rush was the wave at the crest of his typically flawless hair, and the bead of sweat forming at his temple.

“Dougherty,” Tristan said to Liz in greeting. She had been able to break him of the formal Miss that had gone before that for the first month or more of his working for her. But now, even when they were just out with friends, she couldn’t break him of the habit of addressing her simply by her last name.

“What did you find?” Liz asked.

“I have the results for the precincts you requested.”

Liz looked over Tristan’s shoulder to find Hayden only a few feet away from her. “Hayden!” she called. Their eyes locked and he smiled that heart-stopping smile before hurrying over to stand just a bit closer.

“Does he have the results?” he asked Liz. He was all business too. It was why they worked well together. It was why they had always worked well together. And it was one of the reasons she had liked him the past two years. She would have given anything for Hayden to make a move before Brady.

Before Brady.

It was like a constant mantra. She forced those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the business at hand.

Tristan nodded, pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and handed it to his bosses.

Liz scanned the list, her stomach somersaulting. She couldn’t believe what she saw. “All but one precinct,” she whispered.

Hayden flashed her a smile. “Just like you predicted.”

“Not Meriweather precinct, because they always run opposite the Maxwells,” she murmured.

“You said that too,” Hayden encouraged.

It wasn’t the entire fourth district by a long shot, but the few precincts that they had been watching in Chapel Hill had swung for Brady. Maybe that would swing the whole district, if the boost in student voting on campus was any indication.

She would find out soon enough.

“This is great, Tristan,” Liz said. She was close to shaking, she was so emotional and conflicted. She wanted Brady to win. She didn’t want it to all be for naught. It just felt like this day had taken forever to get to . . . and they still had to wait for the official announcement.

“You said from day one that our politician would win,” Hayden said.

“Well, he hasn’t won yet. Tristan, will you write up something short for tomorrow with this information, along with the official results?”

“Of course, Dougherty. On it.” With that Tristan turned and started for the door.

Liz sighed and ran after him. “Hey, you don’t have to go now,” she said, modulating her no-nonsense tone. Sometimes she forgot that Tristan was just a freshman, the paper wasn’t his real job, and she wasn’t his real boss. He wasn’t getting paid for this, and he probably wanted to celebrate too.

“Don’t you want that article?” Tristan asked.

“Why don’t you stay and wait for the election results to come in? You can party with the rest of us.”

He looked at her in wonder, like Liz had just given him a huge privilege. She really must have been working her staff hard if he was this appreciative. “That sounds great, Dougherty. I’ll still be sure to get that article to you. I could run out and get my computer while we’re waiting, if you think that will help.”

“Maybe you should just get a drink,” Liz suggested.

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t drink, but thanks for the offer. I think I’ll grab my computer anyway.”

Liz watched him depart, wondering if she had been that determined and strong-willed as a freshman. She didn’t remember it quite like that, but she probably had been.

“Hey,” Hayden said, coming up behind Liz.

“Hey.” She swiveled in place and came face-to-face with his intriguing hazel eyes. They were leaning more toward green rather than brown tonight. He looked good in gray slacks and a green button-down, loose at the neck. Dressy but casual.

“You’ve done a great job with your team.”

“Thanks,” Liz said, flushing.

“Do you know what you want to do next semester?”

Liz scuffed her foot on the floor. She hadn’t wanted to think about that yet. The campaign would be over and she would have to fall into place somewhere else on the paper.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Where do you want me?”

His answering smile made her flush even further, but she didn’t dare break eye contact.

“On the paper . . . that is,” she muttered. Way to make it even more embarrassing.

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