K. Linde - Off the Record

“Need something?” he asked quizzically. His brows knit together. “Why would I need something?”

“I just thought…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “Just the paper…”

“Oh, no,” he said. His eyes seemed to bore into her, searching her. She wished she knew what he was thinking or where this was going.

“Do you enjoy flying?” he asked abruptly.

“What?”

She was taken off guard. Did he want to take her flying? That was ludicrous.

“Flying, like in airplanes,” he added.

“I don’t understand.”

“I never did. My ears popped, my parents argued, I never got a window seat, the lines were too long, and it always happened when I wanted to stay home.”

Why was he telling her this? He didn’t even know her name.

“I’d have panic attacks before boarding,” he informed her. “Sometimes my parents would give me medicine to knock me out so I wouldn’t hyperventilate.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure how to respond.

“I grew out of it, of course. I had to, especially if I wanted to be a politician like my father, but I never forgot that feeling. My fingers and toes would get warm and tingle. I’d find it hard to swallow. My stomach would be racked with nerves. I couldn’t focus properly on what was at hand. I couldn’t keep my breathing even, and I also couldn’t seem to suck in enough air. It was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life.”

“I’ve hyperventilated before,” she admitted—she wasn’t sure why. “My sister made me run a couple miles to the store with her in the middle of the summer in Tampa, but I’m not a runner. I’ve never felt so terrible.”

His eyes glistened as they stared into hers. “Then you know what I mean?” He waited until she nodded. “Well, I’ve never associated that feeling with anything good in my entire life…until you asked me that question today.”

Liz’s mouth popped open without any intention on her part. “What?”

Her question had been tough. She hadn’t cared, though. She had wanted answers and all he had done was sidestep. She hadn’t thought he had given it much thought, and he certainly hadn’t thought about her.

“I think I hid it as well as I could, but I had to get off of that stage. I was suffocating under your scrutiny.”

“Me?” she squeaked, losing all semblance of composure.

“And I wanted to know how you did that.”

Liz didn’t know what to say. No one had ever said anything like this to her before. She felt like an idiot staring up at him, getting lost in the endless dark depths of his eyes. How was she supposed to respond to that? Only two minutes ago she had thought this was some kind of joke. Now he was saying that she completely disarmed him. Him. State Senator Brady Maxwell III.

“You seem surprised,” he said.

“Of course I’m surprised, Senator Maxwell,” she said formally. “I’m not entirely sure how to even begin to respond to that. I wasn’t doing anything on purpose. I just…asked you a question.”

“You asked one hell of a question,” he said, leaning forward into her.

“I’m not going to apologize,” she told him, standing up taller in her heels.

“I wasn’t requesting an apology.”

“Then what?” she asked skeptically.

“I was merely complimenting your reporting skills. How long have you had this position?”

Liz narrowed her eyes. “You’re complimenting my reporting skills?”

“It was a fair question,” he told her.

“I know.”

“Then why do you look like you might pounce? I’m not meaning to be critical.”

She glanced away from his overwhelmingly beautiful face, over the railing, and out across the main bar area. It was a crowded night. How had he even seen her in the growing madness below?

“I just…” Her eyes gradually shifted back to his, and she gripped the railing harder. “I’m not certain where this conversation is heading.”

“Why does it have to head anywhere?” he asked, scrutinizing her face.

She blushed and made the mistake of looking into his eyes. “I didn’t…that’s not what I meant.”

He laughed. “It’s all right. It seems you are more adept at sidestepping my questions than I was at sidestepping yours.”

Had he admitted to dodging her question? Was this off the record? Had they ever clarified?

“Seems you’re stuck here with me now. You’re going to have to answer me,” he said, taking another step toward her. His smile was playful. He was flirting with her…teasing her. Brady Maxwell was teasing her.

“I’d be happy to,” she said boldly. “It’s not like anyone is going to be writing an article about me.”

“That’s good. You don’t need to be in the papers. Then everyone would know about you, and I think I prefer you here all to myself.”

Her mouth went dry. She had no words.

“So,” he said, deliberately reaching forward on the railing and sliding his thumb against her hand. Sparks ignited everywhere he touched her, and she felt her body reacting instantly to him. It was the same feeling she had gotten in that conference room when he had walked onstage. He focused in on her, and she couldn’t breathe. “Let’s start with your name.”

She was pretty sure he had knocked the breath right out of her, but she found her confidence within and answered, “Liz. Liz Dougherty.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Liz,” he said, offering her his hand.

She placed her hand in his. “Handshakes and kissin’ babies,” she muttered.

“Such is the life. Though it’s typically not this enjoyable.”

“You seemed to enjoy yourself just fine today,” she responded. “What made you decide to run?”

“Now, now, none of that,” he said. She hadn’t meant for it to come off as a reporter question, but it was her life, after all. “I didn’t buy a reporter a drink. I bought Liz Dougherty a drink. And I want to know when I can see you again.”

Everything about the situation told her not to give in. What good could come from that? She was a reporter and he was a politician she was writing a story on. They couldn’t ignore that.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t do it.

“You want to see me again?”

He dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and extracted a business card. He placed it in her palm, and she fingered the thick embossed paper. It was an expensive card; that much she knew.

“I’ve already said I want to see you again. If you want to see me, give me a call on that number. It’s my personal line. If you can’t reach me, call my secretary at the number below that. I’ll get in contact with you,” he said with a penetrating gaze that made her believe he would. “I wish I could stay now, but I have some business to attend to.”

She couldn’t call him. She couldn’t see him. It wasn’t right for her professionalism or for her future career in journalism.

Maybe when she was finally away from him, she wouldn’t feel as heated and desperate to be closer to him.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, brushing his fingers across her jawline, “you want to see me. I want to see you. Call me. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

Could he read her mind?

“I’ll think about it,” she whispered, entranced.

“I look forward to your call,” he said, releasing her chin.

Her body was already missing his touch. She hated that he left her with the option, but he had already stated what he wanted. Now it was up to her. He wanted her to come to him willingly, and she certainly was willing. He had this undeniable, uncontrollable pull on her that she had never experienced with another man. He made her want to use this card.

But she knew she never would.

Liz walked in a trance back down the flight of stairs leading out of VIP. Her hand was clutching the business card Brady had given her, between shaking fingers. All of her attitude dissolved when she left, and she was wondering what the hell had happened.

Her feet hit the bottom of the stairs, and she exited the doorway back onto the main floor. She didn’t know how long she had been gone or if anyone had noticed her absence. All she knew was that Brady Maxwell, a sitting State Senator, had said he wanted to see her again. And what had she said? I’ll think about it. Really? Was she out of her mind? The man was the most gorgeous person she had ever laid eyes on, and the physical attraction she felt in his presence was off the charts. She would have gone to the ends of the earth for him, and still somehow she had told him she would think about it.

Not that it was a good idea to see him, but now that she was away…it felt like a much worse idea not to see him.

Liz tucked the business card carefully away in the pocket of her navy blazer and walked back to the table. Her head was down as she approached, her mind lost on Brady. He was all charm, and she shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a politician, after all. She just had never expected…him…that he would throw her so off-balance.

She had a strong head on her shoulders. Her dad had always told her that. It was why she had worked so hard in high school to get a full scholarship to Chapel Hill, and why she pushed herself at the paper to become a reporter. It was the same steadfastness that made her a long-term kind of girl, and that caused her to always be the one who ended things with her various boyfriends when she felt the relationship slipping. She might stay with them longer than she should, but in the end, it was always her choice…it was always her. Yet here she was, swept away by some politician.

“Where did you run off to?” Hayden asked, jumping up from his seat as she drew near.

“Uh…I went to look for you.” She wished she had a drink or something in hand. She didn’t want to tell Hayden about meeting Brady. That would bring about a whole slew of questions she didn’t want to answer with his enticing stare still burned into her mind.

“I only left for a second,” he said a bit defensively.

Before she had met Brady, she would have taken all of this personally. After all, Hayden was the one who had run off with Calleigh, leaving her alone with people she didn’t know. But now she wasn’t focused enough to care. The card was burning a hole in her jacket.

“So did I,” she said with a shrug. “Where did Calleigh go?”

“She’s still talking to Tracey. I came back for you, but Trent said you ran off.”

“Just came to find you is all,” she told him again. “I think I’m ready to get out of here.”

Earlier she would have stayed here with him all night, but now the mixed signals from Hayden were irritating her. Was he interested in her or not? Brady had been so up-front with her. Liz knew very few people had the self-confidence to pull off that attitude, but it wasn’t like Hayden was lacking in that department. At least Brady had told her what he wanted…even if that situation had its own complications.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get back,” Hayden agreed. “We have an article to write. I feel a long night ahead of me.” He cracked that smile that she was so fond of, and she tried not to compare it to Brady’s. That comparison wasn’t even fair. “Let me just say good-bye.”

A few minutes later they were walking toward the door of the bar when Calleigh appeared out of nowhere. Her burgundy hair seemed to have gained even more volume with the pressing heat in the room, and it only made her look more beautiful. Her bangs were falling haphazardly into her eyes, and she did nothing to push them aside as she latched onto Hayden’s arm. “You guys aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked, pressing into Hayden’s side.

Liz watched Hayden disentangle himself from Calleigh’s wandering arms and take a step away from her. At least this time she could actually tell that Calleigh was drunk.

“Yeah, we’re heading out. It’s late,” Hayden told her. Liz didn’t actually know what time it was, but it felt early.

“Hayden, you should stay here with me,” she said, the coy smile wiped off her face and replaced with blatant desire. Hayden actually looked uncomfortable. Liz could live with that.

“Appreciate it, Calleigh, but we have to get back to Chapel Hill,” he said.

“Thanks for the invitation, Calleigh,” Liz said. “Really had a great time.”

Calleigh looked at her blankly before returning her gaze to Hayden. “You’re leaving with her?”

Oh, this wasn’t looking good.

“Calleigh, let’s not do this,” Hayden warned with a sigh.