On the Record (Record #2)(83)

“Crystal.”

“Glad to see we’re finally on the same page. Try not to do anything to gain another phone call from me.”

“I’ll do my best,” Liz said sarcastically.

“You’ll do better than that.”

The conversation ended and Liz dropped the phone into her lap. Her hands were shaking. She felt anger bubbling up under the surface. She wanted to release it, but there were only two people she could blame for what had happened: herself and Hayden. Hayden wouldn’t return her calls . . . so that left herself.

Then again, she had the sneaking suspicion that she could blame Calleigh Hollingsworth too.

“So . . . that didn’t sound good,” Victoria said. “Who was that?”

“Heather Ferrington, Brady’s press secretary. She was telling me not to do anything else stupid.”

“Does she think you’re an idiot?”

Liz bit her lip. “Yeah . . . I think she does.”

“Well, bitch needs to step off,” Victoria cried. “And Brady? Are you going to talk to him?”

“She told me not to do anything stupid, Vic. Calling Brady is probably the stupidest thing I could possibly do right now.”

Chapter 23

TRYING TO FORGET

Hayden never called.

Liz held her phone in her hand all evening waiting for him to call her back, but he never did. She knew that he had ruined their relationship, that he had sacrificed her trust and chosen his career over her. Still she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to know why. Why would he do this to her?

She and Brady kissed once while she was dating Hayden. Everything else that had happened was before she and Hayden had even gotten together. She knew that he wasn’t happy that she had hidden it from him, but he’d had no reason to know until she had kissed Brady that night. And now Hayden had ruined everything.

When no one seemed willing to move from the living room, Daniel went out to get dinner for all three of them. He knew that something was wrong. He returned with a plastic bag full of Chinese food and a bottle of Maker’s Mark. Liz smiled when she saw it and reached for it. Victoria got to it first and snatched it out of her hands.

“I’ll just get us some glasses. Eat,” Victoria said.

Liz groaned, but let Victoria take her liquor into the kitchen. She couldn’t keep it hostage forever. Daniel handed her a box of Chinese, and Liz flipped the lid open. She swirled the food around in her takeout container, took a few bites, and then set it back down. She was too jittery to eat. Her stomach couldn’t take it.

Victoria returned with three glasses of Maker’s on the rocks in her hands. She passed one off to Daniel and then set hers down on the side table.

Liz brought the glass to her lips and, taking a long swig, she cringed at the taste and set it back down. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s delicious,” Daniel said. “Don’t hate on my favorite drink.”

Victoria rolled her eyes at him. “You should probably eat more before drinking more anyway.”

“I’m fine,” Liz lied. She tipped the glass back again. This was going to end poorly.

Two drinks later and the alcohol was numbing her pain. Somehow she convinced Victoria and Daniel that heading to Franklin Street in her condition was a good idea. She wasn’t sure if they actually believed her or if they were just going along with whatever she wanted. She was so pissed off at the entire situation that she really just didn’t care. She would have walked out of the house and gone drinking alone if they hadn’t wanted to come with her.

Wanting to do anything but think about what had happened, Liz took extra special care curling her hair and applying her dark smoky makeup. She changed into the sluttiest outfit in her closet, a skintight black-and-white patterned strapless minidress, which she had to pull down when she was walking, and six-inch leather strappy high heels. Even Victoria would be proud of her.

Liz assessed herself in the mirror and then decided that red lipstick was in order. It wasn’t her normal routine, but, well, she wasn’t really feeling like herself tonight. She was feeling like total shit. She had walked away from one relationship, tried to love another man, been used for the advancement of his career, and still there was no way she could go back to what she had originally walked away from. So, for tonight, nothing really mattered. She just wanted to get rip-roaring drunk and forget that today ever happened.

As she was about to walk out of her bedroom to see if Victoria was ready to go, her phone started ringing loudly from where she had thrown it on her bed. Liz dashed for it, her heart racing. Was it Hayden? Could he finally have manned up? Her heels skittered across the floor and she crashed down onto her bed, snatching the phone off the comforter. She stared down at the screen. Not Hayden. Another number she didn’t know. She hoped this wasn’t a reporter, because the two glasses of bourbon weren’t making her friendly.

“Hello?” she said into the phone. She crossed her legs and sat up straighter.

“Liz, it’s been too long,” the smooth, seductive voice said through the line.

Liz’s eyes bugged as she pressed the phone to her ear. “Clay?”

“And I thought for a minute you might not recognize me.”

“Of course I recognize you.” No chance in hell that she wasn’t going to recognize Clay Maxwell. Why was he calling her now?