The crowd erupted into outrage. Liz didn’t really blame them. She was sure Brady was going to get bombarded whether he wanted questions or not. That’s what she would have done. Liz had suggested that Brady take a few questions to keep the reporters from revolting, but Heather would hear none of it. She wanted to control the message that got out. Apparently it was bad enough that Liz had already spoken to Calleigh when confronted about being the elusive Sandy Carmichael, Liz’s pseudonym.

Heather sent them a scathing look. “No questions,” she repeated. “The Congressman will be out in a minute. Thank you for your patience.”

She walked back toward Liz and Brady stiffly. Liz was glad that she wasn’t the one dealing with the brunt of that backlash right now. Though . . . she knew she would have to eventually.

Heather blew out a slow breath when she got back to Brady. “Just stick to the script.” He nodded. His face grim for a second before returning to the neutral campaign mask Liz was used to seeing on his face. “And, Brady . . . good luck.”

He gripped her arm softly. They had been working together since his career began and had a bond that came with spending an exorbitant amount of time with each other. After he dropped his hand, he turned back to face Liz. No one could see them backstage, but it still sent a nervous thrill through her system when his eyes were set solely on her.

“Still worth it?” he asked.

Liz nodded. “Always will be.”

Brady leaned down and kissed her once more tenderly on the lips. Then he was striding across the small stage and to the podium as if he owned it. And he did. He always did. Brady was more comfortable on a stage in front of a crowd of rabid reporters foaming at the mouth than most people were in their daily lives. He kept that confident smile plastered on his face, swagger in his step, and gave off the air of a born-and-bred politician.

He adjusted the blue tie at his neck. It was his unspoken cue that he was ready to begin. Liz held her breath, and silence lingered heavily in the room as reporters leaned forward, anxious for what was to come.

“Thank you all for being here on such short notice. I’m sure you’re curious about the recent allegations against my character. And I’m here today to set the record straight.” Brady paused, and Liz watched all the hungry expressions on the reporters’ faces. “Politicians in the public eye are frequently held to a higher standard. We’re expected to be impenetrable. We’re expected to be superhuman. Every fault, every stumble, every hurdle we have to cross is open and accessible to the public. It is the life we chose, I chose, when I was sworn into office. It is a life I would trade for nothing, because it gives me the opportunity to work for the people I care about, to work for the citizens of this great nation.”

Brady, easing into his speech, now smiled charismatically. Liz hadn’t realized the knot of nerves that had gnarled up between them was so intense until it started to unravel.

“As you can imagine that life, this life, comes with limitations. And limitations are the last things politicians tend to talk about. But after the news that hit headlines this weekend, I feel as if it is my place to address one of these limitations. One of these, well, to be frank, ladies and gentlemen, have you ever considered how difficult it must be to date while helping to run the country?”

Brady leveled an amused look at them. The crowd chuckled at his statement, feeding into his speech. Good.

“An article ran in the Charlotte Times newspaper on Friday claiming that I had an affair with a university reporter, Sandy Carmichael, who I have since confirmed is Liz Dougherty. As a bachelor, I find it hard to reconcile myself with the word affair. While what happened between Ms. Dougherty and myself was kept from the public, it hardly constitutes an affair. It was my attempt to keep one aspect of my life private. I still strongly believe that what happened between us should remain between us, but I also understand the delicate position I find myself in. I did not come out about my relationship with Ms. Dougherty for any other reason than privacy concerns.”

Liz sucked in the air she hadn’t realized she had been without. That was the hardest part . . . hearing him discuss privacy as if they would ever be afforded it again.

“Privacy issues seem no longer to be a concern, though, and the very last thing I would want to see happen is for Ms. Dougherty’s name to be smeared for being associated with me. After speaking with Ms. Dougherty,” Brady said, his eyes darting to Liz briefly, “we have agreed that it no longer makes sense to hide our relationship. The article was only false in that it did not address the fact that Liz Dougherty and I are currently together.”

Oh God . . . it was really happening. Liz felt tears well in her eyes. She had been the one to confess to Calleigh about their relationship, but hearing Brady say it to a room of reporters somehow made it all seem so much more real.

“It might have begun in secret, but from this day forward, we would like to make it clear that is no longer the case. Thank you so much for your time. I look forward to seeing many of you again.”

Brady gave the reporters a warm smile and a curt nod before turning to go. And then the room exploded. Reporters pushed forward against the small stage, demanding to ask questions.

“But what of the age discrepancy?”

“What will your opponents think of the negative articles she wrote about you, Congressman Maxwell?”

“Representative Maxwell, just one question!”

“Congressman, can you comment on the use of a fake name to hide Ms. Dougherty’s identity?”

“What else are you hiding?”

“Is this all a stunt from the campaign to cover up your sexual exploits?”

And on and on.

Liz had been expecting it. Even if Heather hadn’t prepared her for the onslaught of questions, she would have guessed this would happen. She had been preparing long enough to be a reporter that she knew firsthand what that was like. She even knew which questions she would have asked. But none of that made it any easier. Her stomach flipped and she felt queasy as the reporters added insult to injury.

She turned away and tried to tune out the madness. She breathed in and out slowly and imagined herself back at Brady’s lake house in the peace and quiet. The only thing they’d had was each other’s company.

Brady wrapped an arm around her waist when he reached backstage and started walking her away from the stage without a word. He was trying to protect her. This was just the beginning, and he knew it as much as she did.