“Ha! You make me look like a joke.”
“You’re just out of shape.”
“Wow.”
“No seriously. If you were out here every day, we’d be more evenly matched.”
“I’m shocked you’re not on the UNC team,” she said.
“Well, I want to go to law school.”
“Oh,” she said flatly. Law school only made her think of Clay and how he was now clerking for the Supreme Court.
“Don’t oh me. I want to be a politician.”
“Oh!” Liz said, shaking her head. Damn, she could not escape her life. “Well, that’s nice.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I really do. Let’s just play.”
And then they were back into the game. This was what she had come here for, after all. She put all of her energy into the athleticism of the sport. Focused on trying to crack through Easton’s advanced passes. She was good, but not that good. Having the added pressure of wanting to beat him made her work twice as hard, and by the time they left the courts, she was breathing heavy and slick with sweat.
“I’m going to fit you into my schedule three times a week. We’ll start off slow, but you should start running laps at least twice a week otherwise. Doctor’s orders,” Easton told her.
“I can’t commit to a training regimen,” she said. “I graduate this semester.”
“I’m going to save some time anyway,” he said as they walked into the air-conditioned lobby. He grabbed something from behind the counter and handed it to her. “Here’s my card. Figure out your schedule and get back to me.”
Liz slipped the card into her bag. Tennis had helped her forget her woes today. It might not hurt to start coming in more often. Maybe then she could think about something other than her failed attempts at living the life of a politician’s girlfriend.
“I’ll think about it,” she said noncommittally. “Thanks for the lesson.”
As soon as she got home, Liz hopped in the shower. She was toweling off her hair when she saw that she had missed Brady’s call. Finishing with her hair, she slipped into sweats and then called him back. She was still frustrated about what had happened earlier, but tennis had improved her mood immensely.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she said softly.
“I called Erin.”
“Oh,” she said, perking up. She hadn’t thought that he would.
“You were right,” he admitted.
“Damn.” She hadn’t really wanted to be. “What did she say?”
“To be honest, after she told me, there was a lot of crying, and then she hung up on me.”
“She did!” Liz cried. “What for?”
“It wasn’t a mutual breakup,” he said stiffly. “She didn’t tell me exactly what she told the paper, but I can only guess that it’s negative from the way she was on the phone. She sounded like a mess.”
Liz stood up and started pacing her room. “What does this mean for us, for you, for the campaign?”
Brady sighed and for the first time she really heard uncertainty crack through his confidence. “I guess we’ll find out when the story hits, unless I get some information from Heather beforehand.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to that reporter,” Liz said, feeling defeated.
“You were just trying to find out information. You didn’t know what Erin had done or what kind of damage it could do. For all we know it could still be minimal.”
“Or it could be disastrous.”
Chapter 9
TWO WRONGS MAKE A RIGHT
Liz had gone through a million scenarios of what Erin’s article could be about. All she really assumed was that it wasn’t going to be pretty. Brady had broken up with the woman because of Liz. It wasn’t a huge leap for Erin to guess that.
When Liz opened up the Post article in her email the next morning, it was clear that wasn’t the only leap Erin had taken when speaking to the press.
As usual, it started out with the punch: Erin condemned Liz and Brady for sneaking around behind her back. They had worked so hard to portray their relationship as a positive aspect of his life that they were both so eager to share with the public, but now not only did they have the stigma of having hidden it, but Erin was making it seem as if the relationship had never stopped. She went as far as asserting that Brady had cheated on her on at least two occasions, but was certain it was more.
She claimed that when Brady had driven Liz home from the restaurant, the night that Liz had first met Erin, something had happened, and then again in October—both of the times the reporter had asked Liz about, and he’d included her own words stating she did see Brady the first time but had no comment on the relationship. It made Liz’s heart heavy.
She couldn’t stop herself from reading the rest of the article numbly. Erin spoke briefly about her relationship with Brady. She alluded to his always being distant and said that their time together was rocky. Not how Liz remembered it, but she had only met Erin once. She talked about how wronged she was by a man she had loved. That Brady had kept the breakup hush-hush. Again she asserted that was because he was still sneaking around with Liz at the time.
“God, I can’t believe this,” Liz grumbled, closing her computer and walking out into the living room.
“Hey!” Victoria said. “I was just coming to get you. You were gone yesterday, so I didn’t get the chance to tell you— Wait, what’s wrong?”
Liz had tears welling in her eyes. Had it really only been a couple weeks since all of this had started? It felt like a lifetime.
“Did something happen?” Victoria asked.
“Brady’s ex-girlfriend spoke to the press saying he cheated on her with me while they were dating.”
“Well . . . didn’t you?”
“I mean, yeah, that one night in October, but we stopped. We didn’t go farther, and nothing happened before that. And it all just looks so bad,” Liz explained.
Victoria moved her to the couch and made her sit down. She plopped down in the seat next to her. “How badly does this set you back? Can’t you just tell them to fuck off?”
Liz laughed bitterly. “I wish. I spoke to the press. I feel kind of like an idiot. I mean, what use is all my reporter knowledge that I’ve built up for years if I can’t even handle the press in my own situation? I feel so shitty about it. I’m ruining everything.”