“What did you find?” Liz asked.

“I have the results for the precincts you requested.”

Liz looked over Tristan’s shoulder to find Hayden only a few feet away from her. “Hayden!” she called. Their eyes locked and he smiled that heart-stopping smile before hurrying over to stand just a bit closer.

“Does he have the results?” he asked Liz. He was all business too. It was why they worked well together. It was why they had always worked well together. And it was one of the reasons she had liked him the past two years. She would have given anything for Hayden to make a move before Brady.

Before Brady.

It was like a constant mantra. She forced those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the business at hand.

Tristan nodded, pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and handed it to his bosses.

Liz scanned the list, her stomach somersaulting. She couldn’t believe what she saw. “All but one precinct,” she whispered.

Hayden flashed her a smile. “Just like you predicted.”

“Not Meriweather precinct, because they always run opposite the Maxwells,” she murmured.

“You said that too,” Hayden encouraged.

It wasn’t the entire fourth district by a long shot, but the few precincts that they had been watching in Chapel Hill had swung for Brady. Maybe that would swing the whole district, if the boost in student voting on campus was any indication.

She would find out soon enough.

“This is great, Tristan,” Liz said. She was close to shaking, she was so emotional and conflicted. She wanted Brady to win. She didn’t want it to all be for naught. It just felt like this day had taken forever to get to . . . and they still had to wait for the official announcement.

“You said from day one that our politician would win,” Hayden said.

“Well, he hasn’t won yet. Tristan, will you write up something short for tomorrow with this information, along with the official results?”

“Of course, Dougherty. On it.” With that Tristan turned and started for the door.

Liz sighed and ran after him. “Hey, you don’t have to go now,” she said, modulating her no-nonsense tone. Sometimes she forgot that Tristan was just a freshman, the paper wasn’t his real job, and she wasn’t his real boss. He wasn’t getting paid for this, and he probably wanted to celebrate too.

“Don’t you want that article?” Tristan asked.

“Why don’t you stay and wait for the election results to come in? You can party with the rest of us.”

He looked at her in wonder, like Liz had just given him a huge privilege. She really must have been working her staff hard if he was this appreciative. “That sounds great, Dougherty. I’ll still be sure to get that article to you. I could run out and get my computer while we’re waiting, if you think that will help.”

“Maybe you should just get a drink,” Liz suggested.

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t drink, but thanks for the offer. I think I’ll grab my computer anyway.”

Liz watched him depart, wondering if she had been that determined and strong-willed as a freshman. She didn’t remember it quite like that, but she probably had been.

“Hey,” Hayden said, coming up behind Liz.

“Hey.” She swiveled in place and came face-to-face with his intriguing hazel eyes. They were leaning more toward green rather than brown tonight. He looked good in gray slacks and a green button-down, loose at the neck. Dressy but casual.

“You’ve done a great job with your team.”

“Thanks,” Liz said, flushing.

“Do you know what you want to do next semester?”

Liz scuffed her foot on the floor. She hadn’t wanted to think about that yet. The campaign would be over and she would have to fall into place somewhere else on the paper.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Where do you want me?”

His answering smile made her flush even further, but she didn’t dare break eye contact.

“On the paper . . . that is,” she muttered. Way to make it even more embarrassing.

“I was thinking of moving you and your team over to Massey’s Washington division. I’d still like some focus on whoever wins these races, and your team already knows them.”

He wanted her to continue to follow Brady . . .

Hayden must have seen something on her face, because he started backpedaling. “Unless you don’t want to work with Massey . . .”

“The Washington division sounds great,” she quickly corrected. She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t like Massey or that she wasn’t serious about her role at the paper.

“I had thought . . . that you might work with me some too,” Hayden said.

Liz arched an eyebrow.

“I still think you could be editor after I leave.”

Liz’s breath caught in her throat. Editor. It was her dream, what she had been working toward. But was he giving it to her because he liked her or because she deserved it? “Are you sure you want me for the job?”

“Yes, I’m sure I want you,” he answered quickly. “For the job.”

“All right. Well, I could work with you then,” she said, her head buzzing.

Liz couldn’t believe how much a few months had changed everything. She remembered her first press conference. The anticipation had killed her as she waited for State Senator Brady Maxwell III to walk out onto the stage. She’d had no thought that she would get to ask a question, or that that very moment would change her life. She had just been an untested reporter hoping to catch a break.

Now Hayden was pushing for her to be editor after he graduated. She knew that he had said she was capable of it that same day after the conference, but it was different hearing that he wanted to start preparing her to take the job. The very notion sent a shiver down her spine.

Liz caught Victoria eyeing her from the bar. She was sure she knew what Victoria was thinking . . . that Liz was taking her advice. It would be easy to return Hayden’s flirtatious smiles and cute comments. It wasn’t like she didn’t like Hayden . . . hadn’t always liked Hayden. But still, she stepped away from him instead of into him when he moved toward her.

Hayden’s smile didn’t falter, but she could see him straining to keep it on his face. Liz didn’t know why he hadn’t given up on her yet. One kiss wasn’t enough to keep a guy’s interest for this long. The way he looked at her, though . . .