“Miss Dougherty, are you still there?” Heather asked.
Liz snapped out of her daydream. “Yes, I’m still here. How can I help you, Ms. Ferrington?”
“I’ve been informed that you are the contact for the campaign division of the paper; is that correct?” she asked in the most condescending fashion she could muster.
“I am.”
“We’ve spoken with the university and set up a time for the Senator to speak publicly about his leap into federal politics. We have very few trips planned for the summer, but Senator Maxwell is making it a priority to speak at his alma mater,” Heather told her.
Liz’s mind was working overtime. Brady was coming here. To her school. Well, their school. Whatever! He was going to be in Chapel Hill to give a speech. This certainly wasn’t a planned venue. The student body wasn’t a target audience for the local elections, even though Liz was desperately trying to get them more invested.
During the presidential election her freshman year, the campus had been a madhouse, but students simply hadn’t put in as much effort for the local politicians. Whether it was because they had a local representative at home (even though they lived at the school for at least nine months out of the year) or they were too busy with their social lives, it just wasn’t a priority. She could count on the two party organizations, the Campus Y, and a few other politically active groups on campus to spread the word on their own, but sometimes it felt as if she were hitting her head against a brick wall.
But if Brady was coming to campus and it wasn’t a planned venue for him, then he had to be doing it for a reason. And she couldn’t think that that reason was…her.
“The university has approved space and even encouraged us to consider doing a series about the upcoming election. We’re still considering that option, but as you are our contact at the campus paper, we wanted to let you know that this is an open press event. We won’t be taking questions until after the event closes, at Senator Maxwell’s request. We hope that you will be in attendance for this special occasion,” Heather said in the same condescending tone.
It hardly felt like a press request, more like a demand. Liz’s insides were squirming at the thought of seeing Brady again, but she wasn’t comfortable with this conversation. Who called after hours like this? If this was about Brady, then he could damn well call her himself.
“Thank you, Ms. Ferrington. We’ll take it under consideration. If you need to reach us again, please do call during office hours. We typically aren’t working this late,” Liz answered diplomatically.
“Look, Miss Dougherty…” Heather said impatiently. Liz was waiting for her to humph on the other end of the line. “Senator Maxwell’s time is limited, and he’s coming to the university. If your paper isn’t interested in covering a prominent local official, I’d be happy to reach out to Chapel Hill News.”
Liz held back the immediate bitchy retort that was hanging on the tip of her tongue. Did this woman think it was appropriate to bully a newspaper?
She took a deep breath before replying. “We would be happy to have Chapel Hill News on campus, of course. Please send over the details for the event, and a reporter will be in attendance. Thank you for informing us of this great opportunity,” she said as cheerfully as possible.
“Wonderful, Miss Dougherty. Glad we’re on the same terms. I’ll shoot an email over to you with the details. Look forward to meeting you then.”
“You too, Ms. Ferrington,” Liz said as she hung up the phone. She had already met Heather once before, two weeks earlier. She wondered whether Heather would remember her, whether she knew that Liz had slept with Brady—if Heather herself had slept with Brady. No. She didn’t want to think about that. She had spent too much time thinking about Brady Maxwell already. Most of it wondering whether she was ever going to see him in person again, or if she would be left with his shots on her computer screen.
Now that she knew she would be seeing him again, she was even more concerned with how the event would play out. Did no questions until after mean he wanted to see her afterward? What was his motivation for coming here anyway?
She had so many questions, and she realized that she was now very much awake. Sighing in frustration, Liz pulled her computer back out and booted it up. She wasn’t going to bed anytime soon.
Liz woke the next morning with her head buried in the keys of her laptop. Grumbling to herself, she yawned widely and closed the monitor. She hadn’t even known it was possible to actually fall asleep on her computer.
Running a hand back through her hair, she grabbed her bag and walked out into the main office. She hoped she didn’t look as shitty as she felt.
“Morning, Liz,” Meagan called cheerfully as Liz walked by. Liz waved at her halfheartedly, ready to get out of the office and back to her house. “Long night?”
“Yeah,” she grumbled, trying her best to get away as quickly as possible. Meagan was a known big mouth. Once you got her talking, it was impossible to get away. She ran an opinions column that was relatively popular among the student body, but the column had no background in even basic journalism.
“I got some bagels from Alpine. Do you want one?” Meagan asked.
“Nah, that’s all right. I’m about to go get some food.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said, packing up her things.
“Really, Meagan, I’ve had a long night, and I’m sure you have a lot of work to do. I’ll catch up with you later,” Liz said, darting out of the office.
She made it down to her car, happy that it didn’t have a ticket on the windshield. They started at forty dollars regardless of the offense. While she probably deserved it for staying in the service vehicle lot overnight, she was glad that fate had looked on her with good fortune. Returning to her house off campus, she took a quick shower to wash away the grime of the office. She scarfed down a bowl of Frosted Flakes and then hightailed it back to campus. At this rate she was going to be late for her class.
Liz was running too far behind to walk to campus or take the bus, so she would have to pay for parking in one of the few decks on campus. There were a ton of spots thanks to the summer session, but it was still an uphill hike to her class. Sweat beaded on her temples as she climbed the hill, reached the journalism building, and rushed into the over-air-conditioned room.