Chris appeared at their side while Liz was still peering out to Brady’s captivated audience. “Hey. Y’all ready?”

“Of course,” Brady answered immediately. “Good to have you here this year.”

“And you?” he asked Liz with his ever-present goofy grin.

“I’m not the one giving the speech.”

“Still, your first election and you look a little jittery.”

“Gah, am I that obvious?” The guys just shrugged. “What? Are y’all born with the ability to hold your nerves in during the election?”

“Just a lot of practice,” Brady told her, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“Well, where’s Mollie? This is her first election. She should be here nervous with me,” Liz said.

Chris glanced away and grit his teeth. “We, uh . . . broke up.”

“What?” she and Brady asked at the same time.

“You didn’t tell me,” Brady said.

“I know; you’re in the middle of an election.”

“What happened?” Liz asked.

Chris shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It actually happened after the fund-raising gala. Well, you know she left early for work stuff. That wasn’t the first time that happened. I was fed up with always coming behind work. She didn’t take it very well. It’s been kind of a rough week.”

That sucked. She liked Mollie, but Chris deserved someone who would put him first.

Brady glanced at her and she could see he was thinking the same thing. She was glad that they were on the same wavelength.

“Well, I just wanted to check on y’all. I’m not still in your speeches, am I?” Chris joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I got a new speechwriter,” he said, placing his arm around Liz’s shoulders. “And she insisted that I take you out of them.”

“Thank God. The man needed new material. I was tired of hearing my sad story replayed over and over again,” he said, nudging Brady. Then he turned to Liz. “So, you’re writing his speeches now, huh? Busy girl. Speeches, grad school, and those articles you’re writing.”

“I have to keep up with my boyfriend,” she joked.

Brady kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re the only one who can.”

Chris laughed softly. “I’m glad that Brady manned up and went after you. You two belong together.”

Brady’s team emerged from the back conference room and Chris took that as his cue to leave. Heather and Elliott led the group with Alex trailing, permanently attached to his iPad.

“We just received word that results will be in in a matter of minutes,” Heather told him.

All eyes turned to the mounted television screen, where muted broadcasts of the primary results were taking up the local news channel.

“Do you hear before they announce on television?” Liz asked.

“The results come to us first and then they’re reported out,” Elliott informed her.

Liz realized she was wringing her hands and quickly hid them behind her back. Composed. Resolute. Strong. She repeated the words that Heather had uttered like a chant in her head. It helped her get through the next few agonizing minutes.

“Just got it,” Alex said. Brady’s campaign manager walked forward. “Here we go. Final numbers read fifty-nine to forty-one percent to Congressman Maxwell.”

A cheer rose up from the people backstage with Brady. Liz turned and threw her arms around him. She didn’t know why she had been so freaked out. She knew the likelihood of his losing was small, but this was her first election. She felt compelled to hold on to her nerves for the unknown. Maybe one day this would all seem like a piece of cake, but right now it was fresh and new and exhilarating.

“Congratulations,” she whispered in his ear.

“Thanks, baby.” He squeezed her and then placed her back on her feet.

Everyone backstage seemed to want to come over and congratulate him too. Liz took a step back as Brady shook hands with the team that stood behind him the whole time and then his family. Just as Brady bent down to give his mother a hug, uproarious applause broke out in the convention center.

“They’ve just heard the news,” Heather explained.

It was so strange sometimes to see all of this from the other side. To get the election results before the news media, before she would have gotten them as a reporter.

And then she heard one of her favorite sounds. A cheer rose up from the crowd. Max-well. Max-well. Max-well.

“That’s our cue,” Heather said with a huge smile on her face. Liz had never seen Heather smile so brightly. “Congratulations, Brady.”

“Y’all act as if you were worried,” he joked, but it was clear all the tension had left his body. He had an entire general election to contend with, but at least one obstacle was out of his way.

Heather strode out onto stage, a total natural before the audience. She stepped up to the microphone, with a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re pleased to have you here tonight at the celebration for Congressman Brady Maxwell III.”

The crowd cheered at the mention of Brady’s name.

“With the announcement that he has won the nomination for the Fourth District, I’m happy to introduce you to the man who you entrusted two years ago and who you continue to believe in today. Congressman Maxwell!”

Brady’s campaign mask slipped easily into place as he walked with confidence and power onto the stage as if he owned it. He was bred for this. It was what he was best at. He could wow a crowd, and tonight was his moment.

The crowd started up their chant again and the applause hit a record high. Bulbs flashed as people took pictures from all areas of the room. Red, white, and blue MAXWELL FOR CONGRESS banners hung everywhere. People were holding the signs above their heads and waving American flags in the air. It was a madhouse; Brady couldn’t even speak because the enthusiasm was all-consuming.

He laughed softly into the microphone. “Thank you. Thank you.”

It proceeded like that for nearly five minutes before Brady was finally able to speak. And then he delivered the acceptance speech that she had written for him.

She could hardly listen to her own speech without tears welling in her eyes. Brady had worked on it with her to tailor it to his cadence, and still she felt emotional. It mirrored the speech he had given at his last acceptance in some ways and spoke of the people he had met along the campaign. Liz had met many of the people that she referenced. An older woman who always donated to candidates she believed in each race, even though she didn’t have much money to spare. A young man who organized his high school to try to get all of the eighteen-year-old students registered and voting, and he was now actively working for the campaign.