“I understand that you’re a Morehead scholar and that your senior year, you must have an internship with a completed in-field research project. Had you thought about what you are going to do for this?” Professor Mires prodded.
“I had given some thought to working in-field at a Raleigh newspaper and commuting back and forth. I have a scholarship meeting with my advisor at the beginning of school to discuss possibilities,” Liz told her.
“Hmm,” she said, leaning forward and thumbing through a stack of papers on her desk. She extracted one from the pile and handed it across the table to Liz.
Liz took her paper eagerly. She flipped to the back page and saw the page filled top to bottom with red ink and a small A+ circled at the bottom. Liz inhaled sharply, unable to believe what she saw. She skimmed through the comments, which was one long glowing review of the article she had written.
“Thank you,” Liz muttered, glancing back up at her professor.
“I’m giving you an A in the class,” Professor Mires told her. “I know your performance was less than adequate at the beginning, but I’m a strong believer in improvement. And you went above and beyond. I challenged you, and you accepted the challenge with fervor. Each week you got better, but this”—she pointed at the paper—“this showed what you are really capable of. You’ve done a great job at changing your perspective, broadening your scope, and remaining objective. You should hold on to these skills. They’ll take you far.”
“Oh,” Liz said, “thank you.”
The one paper Brady had given her the idea for was the paper that her professor thought had changed her. She had worked hard all summer to achieve this A, really stretching her perspective and working toward what Professor Mires wanted from her. But she knew that Brady had helped with that. He had shown her politics from a different perspective entirely. She had been able to take what she had learned from him and layer it with what she already knew about the world, and that had helped her relate to her audience.
That man will be the death of me.
“Well, you convinced me to believe in your work with that last paper. It showed me that you can improve…and drastically in a short period of time. I’ve been looking for someone like that to help with my research. I’ve recently acquired a grant, and I’ll be doing research with several universities around the country and working directly with the Washington Post. Part of the funds will go toward putting together a colloquium regarding political journalism, and most of the North Carolina state papers as well as Wash Po, New York Times, and CNN have signed on to participate. I know that you are working on the university paper, and if you continue on the path with politics, then you will surely have your hands full, but I do hope you consider taking the time to work with me. I would be happy to sign off on your internship credit.”
Liz stared forward at her professor in shock, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“Are you interested, Liz?” Professor Mires asked.
“Yes! Oh, yes, I’m interested. I would be happy to help you in your research, Professor Mires. What will you need me to do?” Liz sputtered out.
“Great. I’ll be in contact more directly when school starts again. It might require some traveling, but all your expenses would be covered. Also, I do hope that it helps you make those contacts you need,” Professor Mires said with a smile.
“Thank you so much for the opportunity!”
Professor Mires nodded before standing. “Thank you for your hard work. I’m looking forward to having you onboard next semester.”
Liz smiled, her day brightening, and turned to exit her professor’s office. Standing in the doorway was the woman’s husband. He was holding a bouquet of sunflowers, with a giant smile plastered on his handsome face. Liz suddenly felt as if she was intruding on their moment and quickly ducked out of the office.
Her brain was buzzing as she walked back to her car. She couldn’t believe that Professor Mires believed in her work enough to entrust her with her grant research. Not only that, but Liz would be included in work with papers and political journalism outlets all over the country. This felt way bigger than anything she could do on the university paper.
She was so wired she almost missed her phone buzzing in her purse. She quickly answered the unknown number, noting that it had a North Carolina area code. “Hello?”
“Liz,” Brady said.
Liz stopped in her tracks in the middle of campus. Her mind quit working and she felt her heart skip. Damn, she had missed that voice.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, sorry,” she murmured. “I missed you.”
She hadn’t even meant to say it. Of course she had missed him. But with everything that had happened since she had left his house, it wasn’t the first thing she had thought she would spit out.
“I missed you, too.”
Silence dragged on the line for a moment as Liz waited for him to say something else.
“How was your trip?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Good,” she said. “I got to see a lot of monuments and museums.”
“Sounds right,” he said. She heard shuffling on the other end of the line. “Hold on one second.”
Liz waited as he spoke with someone else. She imagined him at his office in Raleigh, directing people and deciding on strategies for the campaign. He was probably wearing a standard black suit with his typical red-white-and-blue tie. She was sure he had his campaign mask on, all smiles and charm.
Then she thought about that one night she had gotten to really see Brady, when they had gone over to Chris’s apartment. He had dressed comfortably, laughed, joked, and even made fun of himself. It had been relaxing to see him not on edge, as he was all the time. That was the Brady she wanted to be with.
“Sorry about that,” Brady said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “I can’t talk long. I have a meeting in a couple minutes. I wanted to find out your plans for the remainder of the week.”
“I don’t have plans until school starts again. Though I do have some exciting news!” she said, wanting to tell him about her professor.
“I can’t wait to hear it. I wish I could talk now, but I can’t. I’m going to the coast for a few days, mixing business with pleasure a bit. My family is spending the week at the beach before Clay goes back to Yale and Savannah starts at UNC. I’m meeting them in Hilton Head for the weekend. I have a couple meetings and a dinner to attend.”
“That sounds nice,” Liz said.
“I know I’m going to be really busy up until the primary, but I thought you might come to the coast with me.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. She would have plenty of time to tell him about her job there.
“I would get you a hotel room near my parents’ place. I’m going to try to slip this by Heather so we have to keep it on the down-low, but I’ll take any opportunity to see you,” Brady told her.
“Oh,” she whispered, feeling the secrets pile up all over again.
“Baby…come see me,” he said in that tone that made her squirm. How could she resist him?
She needed to tell him about Hayden. She needed to figure out where this was going. She needed to tell him how she felt.
Most of all, she just needed to see him.
“All right. What do I have to do?”
Chapter 27
THE WAITING GAME
Liz didn’t even want to know the cost of a last-minute flight from Raleigh to Hilton Head. She was sure it wasn’t something she would be able to afford, but luckily Brady had made all the arrangements.