Liz knew she shouldn’t be in reporter mode, but she couldn’t help it. It was who she was. Ingrained in her now. This event wasn’t open to the press, but her fingers were itching for the voice recorder and notebook she normally carried with her. She only had a deep red satin clutch with her, at Victoria’s insistence.

The day after she met Chris, she had gone shopping with Victoria at the mall and some of the local boutiques. Liz had been ready to call it quits and wear what she had, but Victoria had urged her into a few more shops. A few more shops had actually been closer to a dozen, in true Victoria style.

It had been worth it though when they had found the dress. Liz hadn’t been sure about it until Victoria had forced her to try it on. The champagne-colored silk hugged her figure seamlessly, falling to the floor, the train trailing out ever so slightly behind her. It had a square bustier top with a small V dipping between her breasts. The beaded straps crossed her back and held up the backless ensemble, which was ruched at the base of her spine.

Miraculously, after she matched it with dark red pumps, it didn’t need any alterations. Victoria had piled Liz’s thick, blond hair up off her neck and into curls. The only jewelry on her whole body was a thin gold necklace and gold-knotted earrings.

“Champagne?” the waitress asked as she passed.

Chris glanced at Liz. “You?”

“Sure,” she said, taking a drink from the waitress.

Chris held up his hand and she moved on. “I think I’ll head to the bar and get something else. I prefer beer. Did you want something?”

Liz took a sip of her champagne and then set it down. She couldn’t get sloshed. She needed to take it easy. “I think I’m good with the champagne.”

“All right,” he said with a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Hey,” Liz said, reaching out and touching his arm. “When will Brady get here?”

Brady had told her that he wouldn’t be there when the event started, but he would make an appearance once the room started filling up. She just didn’t know when to expect him. She was already excited to see him.

“I’m sure he’ll be late to his own gig.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Probably in the next twenty to thirty minutes if we’re lucky. The sooner he gets here, the sooner we leave.”

Liz giggled and shook her head. “What? Afraid of getting pawned off to someone’s son again?”

“Don’t get me started. I’ll tell you that story later, and then you won’t be laughing!” he said before turning and walking toward the bar.

Liz took another drink of her champagne and went back to people watching. Brady would be here in the next twenty minutes or so, which meant she had a little bit of time to size up the crowd.

She figured she was the youngest person in the room besides Savannah, whom she picked out in an Anne Boleyn green dress across the room. Most of the donors in the room who contributed to Brady’s campaign were up-and-comers riding the bandwagon of success. There were a sizable number of older individuals, women primarily, who all seemed to know one another. She was pretty sure she recognized some of them from her table at the Jefferson-Jackson event.

“Find what you’re looking for?” a voice drawled softly into her ear.

She turned around slowly and looked up into an oddly familiar face, but not the one she had been expecting. Where had she seen this person before? He had short blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and dimpled cheeks. So familiar…yet she couldn’t place him.

“I wasn’t looking for anything,” she covered quickly, flushing.

“For you,” he said, offering her a glass half-full of dark liquid.

Some guy was bringing her a drink…out of nowhere. That felt oddly familiar as well.

“Um…thanks,” she said, taking it out of his hand.

He chuckled, those cute dimples returning. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Busted! “No, sorry. You do look really familiar…”

“We met on the Fourth of July,” he offered. “You were having a medical emergency. Claustrophobic, if I remember correctly. How are you handling this event?” he asked amicably.

“Oh my God, that’s right! So sorry! I was kind of having a moment,” she said.

If only he knew what kind of moment…

“You seem all right now,” he drawled.

“Much better.”

He smiled down at her, and she noticed how handsome he was. “So, what do you think about the party? A bit different from the Fourth of July atmosphere.”

“It’s classy. I’m just glad it’s not red-white-and-blue,” she said.

“Ah, how exceptionally unpatriotic,” he teased.

“Well, what do you think about it, then?” Liz demanded, taking a sip of the drink he had brought over to her. She smiled as the whiskey slid down her throat.

“Hmm…the truth?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Of course.”

“I think the decorations are a bit overdone, the crowd is a bit stiff, and the candidate is a pompous asshole. But hey, we don’t vote on character, do we?”

Liz nearly choked on her drink. Had he really just called Brady a pompous asshole? She would have laughed, since it was something she would have thought two months ago, but she didn’t think that anymore. She knew Brady too well to think that was true.

“Good to see you think so highly of your representative,” she said, biting back a smile.

“Don’t believe all of that. They don’t represent us. They represent themselves and business and some of the people in this room who give them a lot of money,” he told her as a matter of fact.

“What a jaded view of the political process,” Liz said. She’d had similar thoughts before, but that was why she was in journalism and not politics. She couldn’t deal with the insincerity and duplicity herself. She would rather report on it.

“Only honest one you’ll get in here tonight, and don’t forget it,” he said, gesturing to the crowd.

“You think pretty highly of yourself. I sure hope you never go through the trouble of running for office,” she said with a genuine smile.

He laughed out loud and set his drink on the table. “So, you’re saying that you approve of the Maxwell family taking over the political field?”

“We’ll see how the primary goes first,” she said diplomatically.

“Spoken like a true politician. Are you running for office?” He leaned forward as if to get the inside scoop.

“Definitely not,” she said.

“Maybe reconsider it.”

“And would I have your vote, considering what you think about politicians?” Liz asked, leaning forward to match him.

“I don’t give away my vote freely, but I think I’d let you take it,” he drawled. “You want to run against a Maxwell?”

“Maybe I’ll wait for an open seat.” She took another sip of her drink. His eyes followed the movement.

The room gradually fell silent all around them, and Liz broke his gaze to look up at the entrance. Standing just inside the double doors, directly across from her table, stood Brady. He looked un-fucking-believable. He seriously got better-looking every time she saw him. He wore a black tux, and his hair had been styled to perfection. Everything just fit him as if it had been made for his body, and all she wanted to do was get him out of it.

She zeroed in on him, and then slowly, as if she were zooming out with a camera, she saw everything else. And what she saw made her stomach drop.

A woman. No, not just any woman. A freaking gorgeous woman. Model thin, above-average height, long, lustrous hair, flawless skin, and an expensive-dress-and-jewelry kind of woman. A woman with her hand holding on to Brady’s elbow as if…she was there with him. With her Brady.

“Why am I not surprised?” the guy said next to her. “See what I mean by not judging on character alone? I’m sure he’s sleeping with her.”

Liz’s fingers clenched into the cloth on the table as her heart sped up. Three days ago she had been meeting Brady’s best friend for the first time. While Brady hadn’t said that he was going to the event alone, she hadn’t thought he would show up with some other woman on his arm. Not after telling Liz that he didn’t want anyone near her. Now he was here with some other woman?

Her death glare must have drawn Brady’s attention, because his eyes found her easily in the crowd. They stayed like that for only a couple of seconds, but she was sure he grasped the heat in her stare. His eyes traveled away from her, but jerked back to her almost immediately. He looked at her as if he was trying to puzzle out an answer, and then he looked away.

She felt sick. She needed to get away from there.

“Liz,” Chris called, appearing out of nowhere. “Sorry I was held up.” He looked over at the guy she had been standing with and clapped him on the back. “Hey, man. How’s law school treating you? Are you liking Yale?”

Liz wanted to disappear. She was fuming. She knew deep down she had no right to be angry about this. They couldn’t be out in public, but that didn’t mean he could bring someone else! She wanted to be that woman right now! His girl. She had never wanted to be in anyone else’s shoes as much as she did at that moment.

“Doing just fine. I see you know Liz,” he said, using her name without any effort, as if he had known it all along rather than only after Chris had just said it.

“Oh, you know Liz?” Chris asked, sounding confused. “She’s here with me.” Chris touched her elbow, and it took everything she had not to wrench it out of his grasp. “I didn’t know you had already met Clay,” he said, turning to face Liz.

That snapped her out of her anger for a second. “What?” Liz asked, her brows scrunched.