Thankfully, Calleigh didn’t have a comeback. She just stared at her.
Did she find her a worthy opponent? Or was she plotting Liz’s demise for speaking to her this way in front of all of her colleagues?
“I think voting rights were decided forever ago, and we should let it rest,” Monique said. “I know quite a few of my family members who fit into the not-as-educated category who are way more informed than my brother, who is a biomedical engineer.”
“There are always exceptions,” Calleigh said with a shrug.
Liz kept herself from saying anything further. Exceptions were the rule as far as she was concerned, but she already felt as if she had alienated the woman she idolized in journalism. No need to push the envelope.
“Oh my God!” Calleigh shrieked out of nowhere. She latched onto Hayden’s arm and a huge smile crossed her face. Liz didn’t miss the way her fingers dug into his suit jacket or her knee pressed into his thigh.
“What is it?” Hayden asked, checking over his shoulder.
“Look! It’s Tracey Wilson!” she said, pointing into the mass of people across the room.
“Yeah!” Hayden said in surprise. “It is. I haven’t seen her in so long. I thought she was in Chicago.”
“Me too,” Calleigh said, snaking her hand under his arm. “Let’s go say hi. God, it’s been forever!”
Calleigh hopped up and started to drag Hayden along with her. He looked back at Liz with a big smile on his face. “We’ll be right back,” he told her before disappearing into the crowd with Calleigh.
Great. Just what she wanted: for Hayden to disappear with Calleigh Hollingsworth. Not that she thought this was a date. It wasn’t. Was it? Maybe she had misread his interest in her entirely. She had thought that they had a moment when he had asked her to come to visit in D.C. Now that he was running after Calleigh in a dark, crowded nightclub, she was reconsidering.
Liz crossed her leg and leaned back against the booth. Calleigh’s coworkers started talking about the paper, and Liz pushed forward with the conversation even though Hayden had left. These people might be amazing contacts for her in the future if she decided to stay in North Carolina after graduation. She had been a little intimidated earlier at the prospect of being here with other reporters, but now that they were talking she felt right at home. This was what she wanted to do.
Trent kept shooting her looks as if he was going to make a move any moment, but she stayed engaged with the other people at the table and ignored him. She had way more interest in journalism than in the wandering eyes of one of Calleigh’s coworkers.
Liz set her empty glass down in front of her and nodded along with what Monique was saying about spin media. She had taken a special topics class last semester that focused on spinning stories to make them more interesting to the reader. She appreciated that her area of interest was coming in handy and that she was able to contribute to the conversation thanks to her rigorous class schedule.
“Excuse me, miss,” a waiter said. Liz glanced up in surprise at the waiter dressed in all black. He was carrying a tray with a cocktail on it. “Drink for you.”
“Uh,” Liz said, looking around at the other reporters, who had paused their conversation. “I didn’t order a drink.”
“A gentleman in VIP offered it to you.”
“Sorry, I can’t accept this. I don’t know anyone in VIP.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, taking the drink back. “I was directed to give this to you by my manager. Must have been by mistake.”
“Must have been. Do you know who sent it?”
The waiter shook his head. “No, but I can make an inquiry if you like.”
“Yes, please do. Thank you.”
She had no idea who would send her a drink. She was here with everyone she knew in Raleigh.
The waiter traipsed off to see if he could get more details about the person in VIP. She wished she had said yes now, but she felt weird accepting a drink from a stranger. She hadn’t been in that situation very often.
“That was weird,” Liz said. She turned back to face the other reporters.
“I can’t believe you turned down a free drink,” Jenny said.
“I didn’t know who it was from.”
“Still,” Monique cut in, “it was free.”
“If the guy wants to give me a free drink, he can come up and offer it to me himself.”
The girls shrugged and returned to their conversation about spin media and how they thought it was going to affect the Maxwell congressional race. As interesting as the conversation was, Liz wished Hayden would come back. She grabbed her empty glass and tossed an ice cube into her mouth to suck on.
“Hey,” Trent said, extricating himself from the conversation and sliding into the open position Hayden had previously occupied.
Liz smiled at him halfheartedly. She had been expecting this.
He scooted over until his entire leg was pressed against hers. “That was some great work you did today,” he said, resting his arm on the back of the booth and leaning into her.
“Uh…thanks,” she said, moving over an inch or two to put distance between them.
He bridged the space immediately. “So…are you and Hayden…?” He trailed off.
“Are Hayden and I what?” she snapped. She was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.
“You know…dating?” he asked her br**sts.
“Do you date your coworkers?” she asked, diverting the conversation.
“I would if they were as pretty as you,” he said.
Liz frowned. “I don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”
“So, then you’re not together?” Trent clearly wasn’t seeing that she was including him in the business category.
“No,” she told him reluctantly.
“You know,” he said, trailing his hand down her pencil skirt, “I find your attitude toward the Senator very attractive.”
Liz stared down at his fingers on her skirt, and then brushed his hand aside. Why did he think he could touch her?
She tried to keep the anger out of her voice. “Did I have an attitude? I thought I was just doing my job.”
He smirked, not even affected by the fact that she had moved his hand. And really, that look wasn’t attractive. He didn’t have the face for it. He should seriously reconsider his facial expressions.