Page 115 of Off the Record

Clay Maxwell.

Liz froze in her tracks just outside of the restaurant, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as she tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. She stuffed her glasses back on her face and swallowed hard. She absolutely could not be seen by anyone, especially not Clay. If Clay found out that she was here, she was sure he would start putting the pieces together. After all, why else would she always turn up everywhere Brady happened to be?

Liz was clearly too young to be a big donor, unless she had a trust, and she didn’t act as though she did. And people tended to jump to conclusions. Liz would have if she had been reporting, and then she would have dug until she found her evidence. Her gut instincts were normally right.

Like the one telling her to run, run far away at that moment.

The voices stopped, and Liz, thinking she was finally in the clear, turned the corner toward the shops. Her stomach dropped when she saw Clay standing directly in front of her.

A dimpled smirk crossed his face when he noticed her, and the only thing Liz could do in that moment was shake her head and smile.

“Clay Maxwell!” she cried. “I did not expect to find you here. ”

Clay’s grin grew when she acknowledged him, and he pulled away from the woman he was standing with. He was in short khaki shorts, a blue Brooks Brothers polo, and boat shoes. His Ray-Bans hung from his neck by a pair of Croakies, making him look unbelievably preppy.

“Liz,” he said, obviously trying to hide his own surprise. “It’s great to see you. ”

“You know, for a guy who begs a girl for her number, you really should have considered using it,” Liz scolded.

Shit! Where had that come from? she wondered. She just needed to play a part and then leave. She couldn’t have Clay telling Brady he had seen her. That would be the end of the world.

Clay chuckled. The girl he was with raised her eyebrows at the comment. She was pretty, by all means gorgeous, but she clearly had a stick up her ass. If she could look any more snobby in her designer sundress, Chanel earrings, and Tiffany necklace, Liz would have been very surprised.

“Good to see you, too, Liz. Let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Andrea,” he said, drawling out her name and pronouncing it Ahn-dreya.

Girlfriend. Liz came up short at that word. The man who had begged her to go home with him and practically shoved his phone down her throat to get her number…had a girlfriend. That was rich…

“So nice to meet you,” Liz said, wishing that she didn’t feel like such an idiot.

“Clay, who is this?” Andrea asked. She turned to him pointedly.

“This is my friend Liz. We met on the Fourth of July at Brady’s rally. ”

“Borrring,” Andrea said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s a big supporter of Brady. I think I’ve convinced her to run against him,” Clay said.

“Ugh…whatever,” Andrea said. “I’m going to get a drink. God knows I need one. Don’t fuck her, okay?” She glared at him and stomped away.

Liz’s eyes bulged as she stared back and forth between the couple. What had just happened?

Clay shrugged as if his girlfriend hadn’t just told him not to sleep with someone else in public…right in front of Liz. “Sorry about that. ”

“You have a girlfriend,” she observed lamely.

“Most of the time,” he said nonchalantly. “And you have a boyfriend, I assume. ”

“I don’t actually,” Liz said.

“Oh, come on, no single girl refuses that vehemently unless they’re dating someone. ”

“Why are we having this conversation?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Because now I’m confused. You don’t have a boyfriend and you didn’t go home with me even though you wanted to fuck me,” Clay said, as if this were the most confusing thing he’d had to deal with in a while.

Liz shook her head. Arrogant son of a bitch. She couldn’t stop thinking that when she was around him. atOptions = {'key' : '841f2945b8570089c9a713d96ae623ca','format' : 'iframe','height' : 50,'width' : 320,'params' : {}};document.write(''); 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56

Author: K. A. Linde

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