Liz walked in, mesmerized by the bustle. It was a weekend, so it was quieter than it would be on a weekday, but it was still abuzz with people working on articles, making phone calls, and speaking animatedly on the phone. She didn’t dare interfere with anything that was happening, but just stared around her. This was her dream, the epicenter of all political journalism, and she was standing on holy ground.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Brady when they exited a few minutes later. “That was . . . a dream.”
“Good. I won’t wake you up either.” She smiled up at him, starry-eyed. “I have one more thing if you’re interested.”
Liz nodded. Brady walked farther down the West Colonnade, pointing out the famous Rose Garden that the Oval Office opened out to. Brady took her arm and directed her into the next room, and she stopped dead in her tracks.
“Are you serious?” she whispered.
She was standing in the Press Briefing Room, which was filled with only about fifty blue cushioned chairs facing a small podium in which the president gave speeches and addressed the press. If the press offices were holy ground, this was heaven for a reporter.
She ran her hands gingerly along the back of the first chair and imagined herself sitting there addressing the president. She wondered what they would be discussing, what topic he would bring forth to the public. She wondered if she would be addressed, what she would say, if her question would be answered, as it had been by Brady at her first press conference as a reporter.
And then she remembered: no paper and no job. She wasn’t a reporter, not right now.
She whipped her hand back like she had been burned. She didn’t belong here.
Her eyes shot over to where Brady was standing by, watching her with an adoring look on his face. He had done this for her. He had known what this would mean to her, and had wanted to make her happy.
It was with a heavy heart that she realized this pressroom might never be her future, because she was staring at what would be.
Chapter 12
MEANING
With a few hours left before the banquet, Brady and Liz had a small lunch and then drove back to his place to get ready for the event.
“So, I might have gone a little overboard knowing you were coming to visit,” Brady said.
“Oh dear,” she murmured. She didn’t think overboard for Brady was like overboard for normal people. “How overboard?”
“I left you something on your pillow,” he said with a smile.
He nodded his head toward the bedroom and she couldn’t help herself; she rushed toward it. On the bed she found a small note. Her stomach did a somersault. Brady used to leave her messages like this. The first one she had ever found was at his lake house, which had instructed her on where to find the bathing suits in his closet.
Your present is in the closet.
Harder to remove than a bathing suit, but I’ll try not to destroy it.
No promises.
—B
Liz shook her head and then walked into Brady’s massive walk-in closet. A black floor-length garment bag hung facing the door with Versace written in big gold letters. Her eyes widened. Versace? He considered Versace a little overboard? She walked forward and unzipped the bag to reveal a red silk strapless gown. She checked the back and confirmed it was her size.
She might hyperventilate. It was so beautiful. She ran her fingers along the soft material and wondered how it would look hugging her body. As she moved to pull it off the hanger to inspect it further her foot nudged a box on the floor. She glanced down and saw the word Jimmy Choo written on the top. Who left a Jimmy Choo box on the floor? Blasphemy.
She opened the box to reveal black-and-silver peep-toe high heels with a delicate strap that buckled around her ankle. She tried to guess how much all of it cost. This was outright extravagant. Everything she had brought with her paled in comparison. Everything she owned paled in comparison.
With one more forlorn look at the expensive items, she walked back out to Brady.
His face fell. “You don’t like it? Or it doesn’t fit?”
“No, no, I love it. I haven’t tried it on . . . any of it. I just . . . too much all at once,” she admitted.
“Oh, is that all?” he asked good-naturedly. “No worries. It’s on loan for tonight unless you like it and then, well . . . it’s yours.”
“On loan.” She tried the word out for size. “Like what they do with celebrities.”
He looked at her as if she was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. “I am kind of a celebrity, baby.”
“Right. I forget. You’re just . . . Brady to me.”
He crossed the room and dropped a kiss on her mouth. “And that is why you’re perfect for me.”
Liz was relieved that the gown and shoes weren’t here to stay, even though secretly she wouldn’t mind having them in her closet. She and Brady had just started dating again. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to accept such an expensive gift.
Liz returned to his room to start doing her hair and makeup. She pulled all her long blond hair into an elaborate low side bun with tendrils falling loosely, framing her face. When she finished, she delicately pulled on the soft gown. It fit her like a glove to the middle of her thighs and then bustled out in a mermaid design with a short train. The shoes added the extra inches she needed to keep the hem from dragging on the ground. She felt like a princess in a fairy tale, which was all too fitting when she walked out and saw Brady in a crisp black tuxedo with a black bow tie.
“Stunning,” he murmured reverently.
She blushed and walked gingerly toward him. “Thank you. You look incredibly handsome.”
“You look like I want to take you back into my bedroom and find out how fast I can remove a five-thousand-dollar dress.”
Liz’s mouth dropped. “Five thousand dollars? This is what five thousand dollars feels like?”
“And you look incredible in it. Almost perfect.”
“Almost?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I think you just need one more thing,” he said, pulling out a powder-blue box from his pocket.
“You weren’t kidding about surprises this morning,” she whispered.
He handed her the box and she took it in trembling hands. Tiffany’s. What the hell was her life? She opened the box and found a pair of pear-shaped drop diamond earrings, each about a carat, set in platinum. They were simple, elegant, and positively exquisite.
“On loan?” she breathed.
His hand found her chin and brought her face up to meet his. “For you.”