For the Record (Record #3) Page 29

  “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  “Is there a problem with that?” Brady asked.

  “Brady,” she murmured softly. “Just leave it.”

  Hayden just shrugged. “No problem. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “What kind of evidence do you have on Calleigh?” Brady asked without further ado.

  Liz rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a sigh. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today. I don’t know what you have, but I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision to decide to let us know.”

  “It was quite simple,” Hayden said, tossing a manila envelope onto the table. “Calleigh ruined everything, and you don’t deserve the way she’s been treating you. It’s personal, not professional. She’s getting sloppy, because she’s treating it like it’s a vendetta rather than an actual reason to attack y’all.”

  “Well, still . . . thank you.” She could feel her cheeks burning under his gaze. She held no lingering feelings for Hayden, but it was clear that he still cared for her. And he was doing this because of that.

  “Don’t thank me yet. We have to stop her first.”

  “What exactly are we stopping her from doing?” Brady asked, pushing off of the wall and leaning over the desk.

  “The specifics I don’t have. I only know what I heard and have gathered from this,” he said, pointing at that paperwork. “I overheard Calleigh on the phone a couple times in the past few weeks talking about an ad spot, and Brady’s name came up. It was never anything solid, and over the past couple weeks I debated messaging you again to let you know that she was planning something. But you said I needed evidence, and I got you some.”

  He slid the manila envelope across the table to Liz and Brady. She opened it and saw that there was a small stack of Calleigh’s emails. Liz’s eyes widened. “How did you get these?”

  “Calleigh had a computer glitch one day and came into my office freaking out. She asked me to look at it. When I didn’t immediately fix the issue she got irritated and said she was going to see if anyone from IT was back from lunch. I tinkered with the computer a few minutes and got it running again. When everything came back up that email was on the screen. I’d heard Calleigh mention the name Ted before, and I saw that it matched the email address. So, I just printed the whole conversation and hoped that was enough.” Hayden sighed. “I’ve read it all. It doesn’t detail exactly what the ad spot is for, but they’re filming something negative. And she has a meeting with this Ted person tomorrow in Greensboro.”

  “Hmmm . . . I have an idea.” Both guys looked at her skeptically. “You’re not going to like it.”

  Liz stood in front of a large gray building, staring up at the small gold plaque that announced it was a production studio. Strange place for a meeting, but a perfect place to film an ad spot. She hoped that she was making the right decision.

  Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail and she was wearing dark jeans and a blazer. Her voice recorder was tucked into her front pocket—conveniently hidden from sight. She switched it on before walking inside and felt the familiar flutter of butterflies at what she was about to do.

  She squared her shoulders and hoped she looked confident and professional. Then she pulled open the heavy door and walked inside. A receptionist was on hand. Her face was buried in her computer, and from what Liz could gather she was playing a computer game rather than working. Perfect.

  “Excuse me,” Liz said, drawing the woman’s attention.

  “Yes. Sorry. How can I help you?”

  Liz took a deep breath. “I’m here to see Ted. I have an appointment with Miss Hollingsworth.”

  The woman checked her computer and seemed to confirm that both Ted and Calleigh were supposed to be here today. “Oh, you’re right on time. Ted is already in the studio.” The woman stood, waved her card across the door, and opened it for her. “All the way to the back.”

  Liz thanked her and then quickly passed through the door before the woman could reconsider. She made her way down the hallway. The door was closed, but there was a window that Liz could peek through. There was a guy sitting in a chair who she assumed was Ted, a few cameramen, and a handful of women off to the side. One woman was standing in front of the camera. No one looked familiar. No Calleigh.

  As quickly as she could, she pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the room, zooming in on the faces of the people standing around, and then the sign next to the room. It read CT AD SPOT and underneath it LEAD: CALLEIGH HOLLINGSWORTH. CT . . . hmm. Probably Charlotte Times. Did the paper know what she was doing or had Calleigh just used their name?

  Liz pocketed her phone again and backtracked down the hallway. She peeked into some of the rooms. Most were empty. Few people used a production company on a Sunday afternoon. Where was Calleigh?

  She heard the door opening behind her and swiveled. Calleigh stormed through the front entrance, all flowing red hair and tight black clothing. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Liz.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Calleigh demanded.

  A smile spread on Liz’s face. “We need to talk.”

  Calleigh glanced uneasily down the hallway to the production studio. “How the hell did you know I would be here? Are you stalking me?”

  “No. I just came here to talk to you. Can we have a minute or do you have to be in production?” Liz asked casually.

  “What do you know about the production?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Perhaps that’s something we could talk about.” Liz gestured to a few of the empty rooms.

  Calleigh seemed to be deciding whether or not it was worth it to ignore her. “Fine,” she muttered, and walked into the nearest room. She plopped down into a chair and Liz took the one opposite her. “So, what is all this about?”

  “I could ask you the same thing. You do realize what you’re getting yourself involved in, right?” Liz asked.

  “I’m not getting involved in anything,” Calleigh said, crossing her arms.

  “Sure. You know, when this blows up, it’s blowing up in your face. You’re going to take the fall. Your name is on that door.” Liz pointed back out to the hallway.

  Calleigh threw her chair back as she stood. “And what do you think, you’re some saint coming to warn me?”

  “I’m trying to make you see reason. I know you don’t care about me or Brady. I know that you’d like nothing more than to see us crash and burn. But I thought maybe by appealing to your sense of self-preservation, you would reconsider your schemes for one moment. Because I assure you that if you go through with what you’re planning . . . you’ll crash and burn just as we will.”

  “At least we’ll go down together,” Calleigh said mercilessly.

  Liz shook her head in disgust. What kind of life was it to live with such desperation for revenge that Liz didn’t even deserve? “You want Brady to lose the election.”

  “Obviously,” Calleigh said, rolling her eyes. “He doesn’t deserve to be in Congress and you don’t deserve to be at his side.”

  “Don’t you think that’s up to the people to decide?” Liz asked.

  It was Calleigh’s turn to crinkle her nose in disgust. “No.”

  And then Liz remembered the conversation she’d had with Calleigh over two years ago. They had been discussing whether Brady would win, and when Liz had said that she just wanted people to vote, Calleigh had said she would prefer only the educated be allowed, a high school diploma at the minimum, a college degree preferred. She really didn’t believe that the people should decide. She was an elitist who thought that the highly educated should be making decisions. Liz thought it was very shortsighted.

  “So, you think that by releasing this fabricated ad spot, you’re doing the people a favor? All because Hayden wanted me and not you?” Liz asked in shock.

  “Don’t even b
ring him into this,” Calleigh growled.

  “That’s what it is. Isn’t it? Hayden left you, he and I dated, and then even after we broke up he still doesn’t want you. So, you’re taking it out on me. You should be happy. I’m the one who got you that promotion!” Liz said, laying into her.

  “Oh yeah, thanks for being a whore and letting me write about it,” Calleigh said cruelly. She walked across the room and got up into Liz’s face. “I love how you think everything just revolves around you! You think you’re so special. You’re not the only one Brady hid. And once I tell the rest of the world, I hope your perfect little world really does come crashing down. Then maybe you’ll remember who you’re messing with.”

  Liz took a step back, astonished. “That’s who those girls are in the production room? Brady’s old . . . conquests?”

  Calleigh looked hesitant for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it, as if she had realized that Liz had baited her into telling her what the ad was about.

  “You’re getting women to say that he slept with them like me. You’re going to make a joke out of our relationship, tarnish his entire reputation, have him lose the election all because of some stupid vendetta. You’re sick,” Liz whispered.

  “He did sleep with these women. The world deserves to know what kind of family man he really is. Do you know how many he has been with since you’ve been together?” Calleigh asked.

  “Yes,” Liz answered without a doubt.

  “Well, soon the world will too.”

  “The answer is zero.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “You’re going to put up an ad with a bunch of women who are going to lie about sleeping with Brady in the last nine months? Because you and I both know that none of those women were with Brady.”

  Calleigh pushed past Liz to the door. She turned back once more to look at her. “Sometimes the truth doesn’t matter,” she said, and then exited.

  As soon as she was out of the door, Liz palmed her voice recorder and switched it off. “Sometimes the truth will set you free.”

  Chapter 31

  CHANGE

  Cease and desist.

  Those had never been words that Liz thought she would be happy to hear. But after she had brought the voice recorder and pictures of the production studio back to Brady, Heather, and Elliott, coupled with the emails and Hayden’s testimony, they had a pretty solid case. Heather had been pissed to hear what Liz had done, but after listening to the voice recording even she had reluctantly agreed that she was glad that Liz had gone.

  The paperwork went out to Calleigh and the Charlotte Times. They’d had plausible reason to believe that CT on the door had stood for the paper, and since Calleigh was an employee of the paper, a recognizable name, and she represented them, the campaign wanted to cover their bases. As an unbiased news source, who relied on advertisement money from both sides of the aisle, Liz was sure they weren’t going to be happy to hear what had happened.

  “Well, I suppose you did the right thing,” Brady begrudgingly admitted.

  “You seriously doubted me.”

  “I never want to send you in the line of fire. So many things could have gone wrong.”

  “Hey, I’m a good reporter. I might have given it up, but I still know the tricks.”

  He drew her into his arms. “You did good.”

  “What do you think will happen to her?” she asked after a moment.

  “She’ll be demoted, but more likely fired.”

  Calleigh was getting what she deserved. She had even admitted to trying to tear them down for no other reason than because Liz had once had something that she wanted. Even after getting her promotion she hadn’t been satisfied. Maybe she would never be satisfied.

  Feeling Brady’s arms around her, Liz knew that she would never have that problem.

  Liz had gotten one of the other teaching assistants to cover her classes and informed her instructors that she would be absent the week before the election. She spent her days walking through neighborhoods, knocking on doors, making phone calls with volunteers, and handing out Vote for Maxwell fliers wherever she could. The poll numbers coming in had everyone on edge. Some numbers showed him down by a percentage point and then up by a percentage point, but either way the win-lose ratio was negligible. It was a perfect toss-up.

  Volunteers pushed forward with renewed energy in the last leg of the race, encouraging people to vote down ticket for Brady after they voted for their presidential choice. There was always a tailcoat effect when it came to presidential elections. In a toss-up race, it generally helped the candidate who was of the same political party as the president. But the presidential race seemed to be just as close as the congressional race, so Liz wasn’t sure how much impact it would have. She hoped they both came out on top.

  Clay and Andrea showed up Thursday afternoon to go canvassing, and asked for clipboards. Liz stared at them. As far as she knew Andrea didn’t do anything that involved walking or getting hot, unless you counted hot yoga. And Clay had never supported his brother in anything.

  “What’s the catch?” she asked as she passed them clipboards.

  “No catch,” Clay said.

  “Do you even know how to canvass?” she asked him.

  “Babe, I’ve been canvassing longer than you’ve been alive.”

  “So . . . why are you doing it again?”

  He shrugged it off. “It’s just what you do.”

  “Even though you don’t agree with your brother?” Liz pushed.

  “Just drop it. It’s no big deal.” He handed Andrea another clipboard and then they left.

  Liz was dumbfounded. There were so many sides to Clay Maxwell that she couldn’t tell up from down when he was around.

  “You know Clay is out canvassing for you?” Liz said when Brady showed up later.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t get it with you two.”

  “Campaigning is in our blood. We’ve been doing it all our lives. He wants to be attorney general one day,” Brady said, calm and unconcerned, as if Clay always came around to helping before elections. But maybe it wasn’t that he always did it, rather that it was expected of him. Another Maxwell trait.

  Savannah showed up every afternoon to help out despite her rigorous coursework and the school paper. Some days Easton would come with her to help, and he joked with Liz about how she needed to come back to tennis lessons. She missed them, but she didn’t even have time to plan her own wedding. Tennis was a little farther down the list.

  The Saturday before Election Day, Brady addressed an outdoor Halloween festival. Hundreds of people showed up to hear him speak right before the election. Alex always stressed the importance of face-to-face contact. It was the old shaking-hands-and-kissing-babies branding, but it worked. He spent half the day doing just that—speaking to the people. Each contact brought him that much closer to winning the election; each person was one more vote.

  When the event was nearing a close, Brady finally returned to her side. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t tell anyone I’m exhausted.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “I still have to talk to the press. Come with me?”

  “Of course,” she said, taking his hand.

  They walked over to the reporters and questions immediately started flying for Brady. He answered them all with his campaign mask firmly in place. No traces of his exhaustion were present. In fact he looked as vibrant and confident as ever.

  Heather came to stand at Liz’s side as she stood idly by, more as a source of comfort than anything.

  “I can’t believe it’s almost over,” Liz mused softly to Heather.

  “It’ll be back before you know it.”

  Liz wasn’t sure if that was meant as encouragement or not but she let it slide o
ff of her. There were only two more days until Election Day.

  “You know,” Heather said, “you should go stand up there with him. I bet there are more than a few reporters who wouldn’t mind asking you a question or two.”

  Liz’s head whipped so quickly to the side that she got a twinge in her neck. She cringed and massaged the aching spot. What the hell was Heather getting at? “You . . . want me to talk to . . . reporters?” she stammered, certain she had heard her wrong.

  “Do you think that you’re not capable?”

  “No. Oh no, I do. I just . . . I’m confused.”

  Heather sighed and then did something miraculous. She smiled at Liz. A real smile. “I believe you’ve earned that position at his side. I might not always approve of your methods, but they are effective. You stopped a potentially election-threatening scheme from unfurling. You have been with him every step of the way, even when it fatigues you considerably. You help him with his speeches and give him strength when he seems to be flagging. Though no one would know that but you or I. He loves you. The media will learn to love you. Go show them why.”

  Liz stumbled over a thank-you, too shocked to know whether Heather understood what she was saying. She hadn’t thought she would earn Heather’s approval for years to come. She had been prepared to fight for it. And somehow she had earned it before the end of the election.

  She took the few meager steps to stand at Brady’s side. The temperature had gradually dropped since they had arrived, and she was glad that she had the blue scarf knotted around her neck and the white peacoat to keep her warm. Raising her chin and pushing her shoulders back, she let Brady’s confidence flood through her, warm her, and then she smiled.

  He glanced at her with tenderness in his eyes. He didn’t have to ask to know that Heather had sent her up here. One nod from him was all she needed to know that she was doing the right thing.

  Reporters looked hesitant for a moment, unsure of whether she was taking questions. Brady started talking to the woman standing beside him. Liz waited patiently, not sure whether she should offer first. She had never done this before. Then one reporter stepped forward through the throng and stuck his microphone out toward her.