“Reporters staked out my advanced editing class.”
Savannah nodded. “Yeah. I’m not all that surprised that’s happening. It’ll blow over.”
“I wish it was already over.”
“Isn’t it weird being on this side of reporting?” Savannah asked. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly in the spotlight most of my life, but I understood how media worked and how to avoid it. Now as a reporter, I see everything from a different perspective. You’re probably experiencing the inverse of that.”
“Yes. Weird would be one word that I would use to describe it.” Bullshit would be the other.
“So . . . when were you going to tell me you were interested in my brother?” Savannah crinkled her nose and made a disgusted face.
Liz couldn’t help but laugh. “Never?”
“Well, at least now I know what changed your mind about voting for him,” she said, arching an eyebrow suggestively.
“Well, it was more that I just got to know him. He wasn’t what he seemed to an outsider.”
“How did he seem?” Savannah asked just as they walked into a massive kitchen.
Liz stopped to stare at the room, which was two or three times the size of the one at her parents’ home in Tampa. Full granite countertops, double ovens built into the wall, French-door refrigerator, all stainless-steel appliances, an enormous island with bar stools to serve as an eat-in breakfast nook. A woman in her early forties had a number of things simmering in pots, and when they sat down, she placed a few gourmet sandwiches in front of her and Savannah. It took Liz a second to realize that they had a cook. She would have never even thought about something like that.
“Liz?” Savannah asked, waving her hand in front of her face.
“Sorry. What?”
“I asked how Brady seemed before you got to know him.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks colored and she turned her face to the sandwich in front of her. “Well, don’t hate me, but he seemed spoiled, like he could get anything he wanted. Born and bred for the position. Out of touch with reality and in it for the money.”
“Sounds accurate to me,” someone said.
Liz glanced over and saw Clay striding into the room with a smirk on his face. His dimples were evident, blue eyes shining with barely contained humor, and his blond hair styled perfectly. Liz had met Brady’s brother two years ago, when he had tried to convince her not to vote for Brady at a gala event. Ever since then he had been trying to get into her pants. It had almost worked last week in her moment of desperation, but she had ended up stealing his phone and calling Brady instead.
“What are you doing here?” Savannah asked in surprise. “Didn’t you fly out yesterday?”
“State of emergency and all that. Supreme court can wait for family business,” Clay said, sliding out the stool next to Liz and taking a seat.
“Clay,” Savannah warned.
“I can’t sit here?” he asked, already ignoring his sister. “Luisa, I’ll take the same.”
“Of course,” the cook said, her cheeks coloring under Clay’s gaze.
“Hey, Liz. It’s been a couple days since I’ve seen you.” He looked her up and down. “With this much clothes on.”
Liz coughed at the statement and glanced over at Savannah. Her eyes were wide and disapproving. “Really not necessary,” she mumbled.
“Clay, why do you have to do that?” Savannah asked.
“Do what?” he asked as if he had no clue. “Last time I saw her, she was in this tiny little dress.” His eyes followed the image still in his mind. “And then . . .”
“Really, that’s enough,” Liz snapped, giving him an equally disapproving stare. “That might as well have been a lifetime ago.”
“It was only Friday night,” he said with the same cocky smile and a shrug.
“Do you have to do this? Can’t you just be normal?” Savannah complained. “Especially after what Brady said. I would have thought that you’d learn. I guess getting thrown up against the wall like a rag doll by your older brother isn’t enough to teach you.”
Clay’s face hardened. Liz could only guess what had happened between Brady and Clay after Brady had found out. She didn’t see any visible bruises, so maybe there hadn’t been any violence. She was just glad that she had missed it.
“You always come to his defense, Savi.” He said the nickname like it was a slander.
“It’s easy to come to his defense. He doesn’t act like you.”
“There’s no one else like me,” he said with a wink in Liz’s direction.
“That’s the truth,” Savannah said.
Clay scooted his chair closer to Liz, completely ignoring his sister. “So,” he said, leaning into Liz.
“Yes?” She leaned backward.
“Steal anyone else’s phone lately?”
“Oh, honestly!” Liz cried. She stood up from her stool and looked down at him in frustration. She had brought his phone back, after all.
“Why don’t you two just calm down?” Clay suggested, biting into his sandwich. “Savi here just likes to pick on me because I’m not her favorite.”
“Pick on you?” Savannah asked incredulously. “I pick on you?”
“I guess it can’t be helped. You need someone to pick on because Brady is too perfect for that.”
“At least I’m not just jealous . . .”
“She loves me.” Clay pointed his thumb at Savannah.
“I do,” she grumbled. “Even when you’re an ass.”
“Have to live up to everyone’s expectations. Someone has to be in the shadow of the sun. How does it feel?” he asked, staring meaningfully at Liz.
Was he saying that he was stuck in Brady’s shadow or suggesting that . . . she was in Brady’s shadow? Liz didn’t have the energy for this. “Can’t you harass someone else? I’ve had a hard enough day as it is.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s hard,” he said with a chuckle to himself.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Brady said, walking formidably into the room.
Chapter 5
COMMUNICATION
Brady looked incredible in a tailored three-piece black suit, crisp blue shirt, and burgundy silk tie with a herringbone pattern. His brown eyes were cold when they looked at his brother, but melted into warmth when they were turned on her. Liz felt so much of the anxiety of the day dropping off her shoulders in just that one glance. How was he able to do that?