She couldn’t read any more. Liz dropped the phone back into her purse and tried to collect herself. Her breathing was heavy and she placed her hand on her chest. She needed to get out of there. She needed to clear her head and think and figure this out. She couldn’t keep listening to Brady’s speech, the speech she had helped him with, with Chelsea’s words in her head.
She stumbled sideways into Chris and he placed a hand on her arm. “Excuse me for a second,” she mumbled and then walked purposefully away from the stage. She could feel Brady’s eyes on her as she left, but she didn’t turn back to look for him.
She knew where the side exit was to the restroom. She had used it two years ago in this very room to meet with Brady about him bringing another woman to the gala. Was history repeating itself and now she was the other woman?
Liz heard footsteps behind her and just as she made it through the door, Chris caught up with her. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are you sick?”
“Sick,” she scoffed. “That’s one word for it.”
“Are you going to throw up? Do you need anything?” he asked, concerned.
“How long have you known, Chris?”
“Known what?”
“About Chelsea.”
Chris looked uncomfortable and scratched the back of his head. “I mean . . . like forever. They were on-again, off-again in college.”
“Since college,” she gasped. “Wait . . . environmental lobbyist.” Her head spun as the pieces all fit together. Brady had brought a date to the event he had held at Hilton Head two years ago when he had flown her down there and had said that it was an environmental lobbyist he had known since college. Chelsea fit the bill. Chelsea must have been that date. He had said that nothing was going on then, but that had clearly changed. “She went to Hilton Head with him.”
“Um . . . a couple times. Why?”
“Why?” she demanded. Liz pulled Brady’s phone out, lit up the screen, and handed it back to Chris. “I would think my boyfriend cheating on me would be reason enough.”
“What? Brady would never . . .” He trailed off when he started reading through the texts that were visible on the home screen.
“Tell me again what Brady would never do.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” Chris said.
“There’s always an explanation,” she said, shaking her head. “Take that back to Brady. I need to disappear for a little while.”
“Liz,” he said, grabbing her arm.
“What would you do if you saw those texts on Mollie’s phone?”
He sighed, seeing he was caught, and then released her. “I’ll take it to him, but he’s going to come after you.”
“Looking forward to it,” she said sarcastically, and then turned to walk down the hallway.
When Chris left, she paced, trying to clear her head. All it seemed to do was make things worse. Brady was irritable every time Chelsea messaged him. That was exactly how he had been with Liz. Brady had turned his phone off at Justin’s birthday party after Chelsea had texted him. He had done the same thing when Liz had been at Hilton Head. And it seemed as if he had been messaging with her all summer and she had been at events for him under the pretenses of working for EMi. Hadn’t Liz done the same thing as a reporter?
It all fit so closely together that she almost felt stupid for not having seen it for what it was sooner.
Chapter 25
ONE AND THE SAME THING
Liz heard the door open behind her. She sighed, resigned to speaking to Brady about this. She would rather hide out in the bathroom, but that wouldn’t help anything. Her emotions were running high, though. She wished she had more time to try to rationalize this before hashing it out.
Expecting Brady, Liz turned around and found Clay instead.
“Hey, sexy,” he said with that insufferable smirk.
“Do you need something, Clay?” She was already irritated, and Clay never seemed to help that.
“I just saw you dart off looking pale and sick.”
“And you decided to be nosy?”
“I decided to come check on you. Something happen with Brady? I saw you scrolling through your phone.”
“What, are you stalking me?” How was she always so transparent to Clay?
“I just know the signs. So what happened?”
“Like I’m going to give you more ammo to hate Brady.” She was defending him even now, when he had majorly fucked up.
“Do you have ammo? I thought he was perfect.”
“Oh. Ha-ha. You’re hilarious. I don’t need any of your shit tonight,” she said, turning away from him.
“Whoa. He must have really fucked up if you’re being a bitch to me.”
Liz spun around. “Do you walk around calling all women bitches? Or am I just lucky tonight?” She glared at him and crossed her arms. “Mind finding someone else to harass for a change? I don’t know why I defend you to him anyway.”
“I don’t need defending. I’m fine with everything exactly how it is. But you’re just picking a fight with me because you’re mad at him.”
She looked away from his probing gaze. He was right. She was mad at Brady. And Clay was just trying to make sure she was okay.
She looked back up at him and he gave her a small nod, as if he had read her mind. She sighed heavily. “What do you know about Chelsea?” Liz asked.
“Ah,” Clay said, his dimples showing.
“What does that mean?”
“You’d think that when he has someone like you and went through all the trouble to keep you . . . that he would let the past rest.”
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach at Clay’s words. This wasn’t encouraging. “Chris said they were together in college,” she offered.
“I’m sure he meant that they’ve been fucking since college,” Clay said casually, as if it didn’t make Liz feel as if she had been slapped across the face.
“No. I just . . . can’t believe he would do this,” she whispered.
His eyes roamed her face and he shook his head. “God, you’re so innocent. Do you think that you were the first he ever hid? You were the one he got caught with. He’s like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He would have eaten the cookies if he hadn’t got caught, but he never would have fessed up to it.”
“You’re such an ass,” she said hoarsely.
“I’m a realist, and I know my brother.”