Page 156 of Hate Mates

Swinging my legs out of bed, I put my phone on speaker and start to dress while listening to Beth in the background barking out orders to everyone in the campaign office. Gone is the panic in her voice, replaced by focused determination.

Beth is the best person to have at my side in a crisis, and she hates Lincoln almost as much as I do. She’s been my assistant since I first started in local government, and we’re a similar age. She’s more ruthless than me but doesn’t want to be the star of the show. She’s already happily married with the most adorable two-year-old son who’s the reason she wants to go home every night and switch off, not that she’s been able to do a lot of that over the last few weeks with it being so close to the election.

I’ve never been interested in a committed relationship. I’m ambitious and want to help my local community. Men just get in the way, and a vibrator is enough for me at the moment.

“Right. The statement is being released now.” Beth comes back on the phone as I fasten the buttons of my crisp, pale pink blouse. It will pair well with the maroon suit with A-line skirt and black high heels that I’ve chosen to wear today.

“Thank you. We have to focus on getting everyone out on the street to spread our message. Local people need to know what we can do for them and how much better off they will be with us.”

“Yes. I’ll get the campaigners on it at once. Sorry, I was hoping you could have a bit of a lie-in after the late night.” There is an apologetic tone in her voice.

“It’s all right. I’ll have time to sleep when this is over,” I reassure her.

“Not when we win.” Beth chuckles.

“Okay. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, then.”

“Are you going to come into the office straightaway?” Beth asks.

I go to answer yes, but a flash of inspiration hits me, and I pause.

“Sophia?” she questions.

“No, I’ll be a couple hours or so. There’s something I need to do first.”

I hang up the phone before I can be questioned any further on my plans. It’s a risky ploy, but I think it’s necessary. I look at the time on my phone. Lincoln Caldwell is regular as clockwork. He’s so set in his ways you can predict where he’ll be at any hour of the day. And at nine thirty am, he’ll be getting his extra-large, black Americano from the café near his campaign office.

The last thing he’ll be expecting is for me to walk in and confront him.

TWO

9:30 AM

ENEMIES FACE OFF

The café is one of those trendy ones, packed with wealthy looking people in expensive clothes. Their conversations blend with the hiss of the espresso machine as I walk inside.

I spot him immediately, sitting in the corner with his back straight, phone in hand, and wearing a smart designer suit and tie. His mocha hair is tangled effortlessly in a smart style that emphasizes his square jawline. He’s handsome, if you like that sort of thing, but it’s a shame his character doesn’t match his looks.

Lincoln Caldwell.

The man who seems to exist solely to ruin my life.

Crossing the room, I stop just short of his table and place a hand tellingly on my hip to demonstrate my irritation.

“Enjoying your morning, Lincoln?”

His smile widens. “Sophia Tucker. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I slam my phone down on the table in front of him, displaying the headline. “Don’t play coy. We both know you’re behind this.”

I watch as he slowly leans back in his chair and, without responding, picks up his coffee and takes a leisurely sip.

Jerk. Asshole. Schmuck.

I have so many words for this man, and none of them are flattering.

“You give me too much credit. I’m grateful, though, if it means less effort for me to get Mayor Weston reelected.”

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