Page 5 of The Senator's Rival

“Suzannah, darlin', we missed you at the gala last week,” Margot said with her sugary grin, wrapping the CEO in a brief hug as though they were old friends. “I do hope your daughter is feeling better? William and I were so concerned to hear about her illness.”

It was physically difficult for Francesca to keep from rolling her eyes at the saccharine tone of the Margot’s voice. It took every ounce of composure that Francesca had learned over a lifetime to appear pleasant and unconcerned.

“Oh, bless her heart, poor thing's just had the worst bout of the flu,” Suzannah lamented, shaking her head with sympathy. “It was terribly kind of you to send flowers--I really do appreciate it. She's feeling much better now, though.”

“Ah, wonderful. I'm so glad to hear it,” Margot replied, patting Suzannah's arm with seemingly sincere relief.

No, really, how did people fall for this? Francesca thought to herself. Margot was charming and personable, and the accent certainly helped make her seem approachable, but her words sounded so phony to Francesca's ears. She did her best to stay friendly, though, continuing her conversation with the naval officer while Margot chatted with Suzannah about their families and personal lives.

At one point, Francesca felt her gaze slip to the lay of the cream silk gown over Margot Smith’s ass.

Francesca! She scolded herself. Do not fall for the snake’s basic charms!

Francesca pulled herself together. She was a feminist. She was a senator and presidential candidate. She was way above stealing glances at her rival’s ass- however fine it may be.

Eventually, Suzannah and her companion excused themselves to find the restroom, leaving the two candidates alone. As soon as they were out of earshot, Margot rounded on Francesca with a deadly smile, holding her champagne glass aloft as she leaned against the wall and studied Francesca through narrowed eyes. By now, the press had been sent home to let the attendees enjoy the evening in relative peace. Their secluded corner was out of the way of traffic, which meant that it was far less crowded and private enough to allow for more honest conversation.

“Are you really this afraid of losing a single potential donor, Margot?” Francesca asked with a sigh, arching her eyebrows. “That was blatantly transparent, even for you. I thought you had more class than that.”

“I'm being transparent?” Margot retorted with a breathless snort, rolling her sky-blue eyes far enough back that she could probably see the back of her skull. “I take it you just decided to go court the Warrens out of the kindness of your heart, then?”

“I was speaking with a veteran, Congresswoman,” Francesca pointed out calmly, knowing damn well she also had a motive.

“You were speaking with Suzannah Warren, trying to convince her you care about veterans--despite your party's history of cutting their funding in favor of whatever fad initiative is popular with the masses,” Margot shot back, taking a sip of her champagne.

“We have been trying to pass more inclusive healthcare and housing reforms for everyone, including veterans,” Francesca reminded her pointedly, “whereas all you do is scream loudly about the military and the VA because it sounds good, without actually putting forward any meaningful plans to improve their situations. And now you're upset because people like Warren are finally realizing that all you offer are empty promises.”

Margot scoffed in disbelief. “You're accusing me of using veterans as a political stunt?” she hissed. “My grandfather was?—”

“Yes, yes, I know, you can't get through a single interview without mentioning him,” Francesca sighed in exasperation.

“Oh, and you're so much better. Like you're not trotting out the great Frank Thurston every chance you get,” Margot retorted, with a venomous glare. “Every time you want to look good, you talk about your grandfather's legacy and pretend you're the heir to the throne. I'm not judging, darlin'. Anyone would take advantage of a connection like that. But don't act like you're too good to play the same game the rest of us are playing.”

God, this woman was infuriating. Margot could spit pure bile while wearing a honey-sweet smile, poison rolling off her tongue like it was sugar. That slightly breathy, velvety voice stayed smooth and calm, even as she hurled accusations and insults like arrows. Her cerulean eyes glittered with indignation, but her body language was languid and relaxed, one hand gracefully twirling her champagne glass and the other resting lightly on the wall beside her. Margot was untouchable. Unflappable. An invincible ice queen who liked to watch the world burn beneath her feet. It was impossibly, infuriatingly, maddeningly, and utterly irresistible to behold.

Francesca felt her stomach flip with an odd mixture of rage and desire.

I want her.

Fuck.

She clenched her teeth as she forced herself to swallow both emotions with cool logic. She took a deep breath. No, she knew better than to stoop to this level of catty rivalry. And she certainly knew better than to imagine all the ways she wanted to shut those soft, full lips up.

“You must excuse me, Congresswoman, but I don't have time to waste on petty arguments or pointless name-calling,” Francesca said in a firm, but polite tone, her politician's mask effortlessly slipping back into place. “I hope the rest of this election will be civil and professional in word and deed. You're a brilliant politician and I respect you tremendously. I would hate for this to dissolve into a childish spat. Goodnight, Mrs. Smith.”

With a slight nod, she moved past Margot toward the crowd once more, leaving the snake leaning against the wall with a bemused smirk. Francesca's cheeks were faintly flushed. She felt lightheaded and more than a little dazed.

Oh, dear. If this kept up, it was going to be a very long and distracting few months. Francesca couldn't let herself get distracted now. There was too much at stake for her to falter, and she would need every ounce of focus to keep it together until the campaign came to an end. There were bigger things to worry about than how ridiculously attractive her rival happened to be.

But good God, the woman was stunning.

4

MARGOT

Margot was a planner. Every moment of her life was meticulously accounted for--her time calculated with the sole objective of achieving her goals. This was doubly true now that Margot had achieved a milestone most politicians could only dream of. She had been named as her party’s presidential candidate! Since then, Margot’s days had become a flurry of strategy meetings, media appearances, and flights to different cities. Not to mention fundraisers, donor gatherings, interviews, and various other functions, all with the purpose of ensuring her victory in November.

Additionally, Margot kept meticulous track of everything her opponents said and did--watching every speech and interview to pinpoint possible weaknesses. That was what engaged her on this late summer morning. With her lips pursed and legs crossed, she sat in the conference room of their campaign headquarters in Arlington, scrutinizing Francesca Thurston’s recent appearance on a late-night talk show.

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