“Sorry—years of making fashionably late entrances never wore off, I guess. Also, my brother’s in town.”
“Understandable,” Liz said, ignoring the part about her brother. “Is that your Forrest?”
Savannah glanced back at the beefy guy she had walked inside with. She tilted her head and smiled. “Yeah. That’s him.”
When Liz glanced past Forrest, she saw Justin had Massey’s back against the wall and his tongue down her throat. Liz laughed and pointed it out to Savannah. “Well, he certainly moves fast.”
“So does she, apparently,” Savannah said.
Liz shifted her gaze back to Savannah with a smile. She liked having her around. She was different from most of Liz’s other friends, and she appreciated how easily their friendship came to her.
“What were you up to before this?”
“Ugh! I had family shit after the newspaper meeting,” Savannah grumbled.
“Did you take Forrest to your family stuff?” Liz asked with a giggle, imagining the large, tatted man in front of her in the Maxwell house. It pinched at her heart to think about Brady being in town, but she tried to dismiss it. It wasn’t as if she were going to see Brady, and anyway she had moved on to Hayden. That was what was important now.
“No! Are you crazy? My family would take one look at him and tell me to stop acting like a teenager,” Savannah said indignantly. “And I was getting enough of that shit this summer from my brother’s stupid girlfriend.”
The way she said that almost made Liz laugh. There was only one person that Savannah would think was the stupid girlfriend in the Maxwell family. “Andrea?” she asked without thinking.
Savannah raised her eyebrows sharply and Liz realized her mistake. There was no way that Liz was supposed to know that name. No way she was supposed to know anything about Clay, let alone Clay’s girlfriend.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
How could she backpedal out of this one? Liz knew there wasn’t stuff about them in the papers. She had checked and rechecked all of her sources last summer. Clay Maxwell didn’t even have pictures appear online that weren’t from when he was a kid, and the man had sure grown since he was a boy.
“How do you know Andrea?” Savannah asked curiously.
“Um . . .” Liz said, racking her brain. “I met her at an art gallery opening in D.C. over New Year’s,” she blurted out.
“Really?” Savannah asked. “I remember her mentioning buying a bunch of artwork, but I normally tune everything she says out. Have you met Clay? They’re an odd pair, but normally together.”
“He was there with her,” Liz confirmed. That was completely a true statement and yet didn’t answer Savannah’s question. How many times had she met Clay? How many times had he propositioned her to go home with him? Um . . . yeah she had met Clay.
“Huh,” Savannah murmured, clearly mulling it all over. “Well, anyway . . . no, not Andrea. She’s a nut job, but she’s always been that way. You get used to it. It’s Erin . . .”
Liz swallowed and cleared her mind. Nothing to think about. Nothing at all.
“What happened with Erin?”
Savannah rolled her big brown eyes to the ceiling and pulled all of her hair over to one shoulder. “She just . . . mothers me! Like I think she really, really wants to be my friend, because Brady and I are close. But she was at Hilton Head with us, and found out about the thing with Lucas. She wanted me to play buddy-buddy and have me confide in her. She kept saying things like, ‘I feel like we’re sisters.’ Um . . . I’m sorry. I don’t know you like that. We’re not sisters. I don’t have any sisters, you know?”
“Sure,” Liz said softly.
“Anyway, once I told her what happened with Lucas, she started telling me how I was like a bad person for kissing him and that if he really liked me then he wouldn’t string me along and all this. Which, okay . . . she’s right. Fine. It’s not exactly what she said, but how she said it. In this holier-than-thou voice with her finger sticking out and scolding me. And she has treated me like that every time I’ve seen her since. When I’m around her, I swear I’m about to go crazy.”
Liz nodded, her mind drifting off. She felt bad for Savannah having to deal with someone like that. And she really wanted to think that it didn’t matter that Savannah didn’t like Brady’s girlfriend.
But it made her smile devilishly anyway.
Chapter 15
DROPPING THE BALL
Liz landed back in the Raleigh airport after three days spent in New York City working with Nancy at the New York Times over fall break. She had never worked so hard, but also had never had a better experience in journalism. Nancy had a knack for utilizing people’s strengths, and Liz had been knee-deep in the political reporting area at the paper. She had shadowed various people, assisted in research, writing, and editing, and had even gone out into the field with a seasoned reporter.
The experience further solidified that she was really doing what she loved. She was so often locked away in the academic setting that she didn’t always see what it really felt like to be out there. The college newspaper, while an incredible publication, was nothing compared to starting a career at a professional newspaper.
The only downside to her being in New York for her break meant that she didn’t get to see Hayden. They visited each other as frequently as they could, but as his job grew more demanding and midterms rolled around, they found less and less time together.
It wasn’t the end of the world. A part of her just wanted to drive to Charlotte and shirk her responsibilities. But that wasn’t like her at all . . . She hadn’t been able to do any work for the school newspaper while in New York, and she had homework on top of that. So at least she would be keeping herself busy.
As soon as she got home, she changed into jeans, a three-quarter-sleeve blue button-down, and her knee-high brown boots. She twirled a pink chevron scarf around her neck and grabbed her North Face jacket and laptop before heading right back out the door to the paper.
She parked in her normal parking spot reserved for the editor and trekked up the stairs and into the Union. Liz plopped down at her desk and fired up her computer. She had a million emails regarding editorial work, newspaper design, next week’s stories, and on down the line. She would be up all night sorting through the mess.
A while into her email binge, Liz heard the office door opening. She checked her watch and saw that it was already eight thirty at night. She suspected she wouldn’t get out of here until well past midnight. She actually considered pulling an all-nighter. But she hadn’t thought anyone else would show up at the paper on their fall break.