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The Phoenix Candidate(24)

By:Heidi Joy Tretheway


Basically, my law takes more developable land out of commission, and they don’t like it one bit. I feel like Shep’s thrown me to the sharks, and he isn’t even here to watch the carnage.

I flee to the restroom to compose myself, hiding in a stall for a few minutes as I put my head in my hands and just breathe. I can do this. I can. I might be unpopular here, but I’ll go down in flames with the gun-rights crowd if I can’t find a way to make them like me despite my position.

I wash my hands and reapply lipstick with a shaky hand.

“Grace? I was hoping you’d be here.”

I look up to meet brilliant sapphire eyes in the ladies’ room mirror, and a porcelain complexion framed by perfectly straight blond hair.

“Lauren Kennedy Darrow,” she says, extending a manicured hand with a diamond ring the size of a fat blueberry.

I take her hand and shake, recognizing the former first lady of California instantly. Given her news-anchor background and frequent appearances on the softer women-and-children issues, she’s almost as famous as her husband. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. Have you spoken with my husband yet?”

I shake my head. Aaron Darrow’s giving the keynote speech tonight and I wonder if Conover sent me here to feel out the mood.

“I’ll make sure you two are introduced,” she says. “I think you two have a lot in common on the issues. Where are you sitting?”

“I’m not sure.” The coordinator hasn’t shown me my table yet.

“I’ll make a place at our table for you. We ladies have to stick together in this room full of testosterone.” She laughs, a high, tinkling sound, like ice cubes in a glass. Everything about her is perfect, from her Tiffany blue silk sheath to her pale highlights. Standing next to her in the bathroom mirror, my gray suit and tangle of brown curls look dowdy.

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.

“So how did you end up at this conference?”

“Uh, a last-minute invitation,” I hedge, knowing that I can’t breathe Senator Conover’s name. “I was in Denver on other business too.”

“The STEM dedication? I saw it on the wire.” Lauren rubs her lips together to smooth her lipstick, and I admire her savvy. She’s a lot more than a trophy wife.

I follow her to a table at the front of the ballroom as a bell sounds and the lights dim briefly, encouraging people to take their seats for the dinner and speeches. With a few brief gestures, Lauren has the waitstaff squeeze a place in for me at her right.

I’m about to be seated when Aaron Darrow appears, giving Lauren a kiss on the cheek and then turning to me.

“Congresswoman Colton. What a nice surprise.” His voice is a rich baritone, his thick, jet-black hair impossibly glossy, with a few distinguished streaks of gray around his temples.

This guy looks even better in person than on TV.

He takes my hand to shake it and his touch is intimate in the slow, deliberate way he shakes. The way his dark eyes appraise me sends shivers down my spine, but not the way Jared makes me melt. It’s like Darrow’s looking through me, probing for answers. “I see that you’ve already met my better half.”

I smile and drop his hand. “Lauren generously invited me to your table.”

“Perfect. I’m surprised that it’s taken this long for us to meet in person, considering we’re practically neighbors.” His chuckle is warm, ingratiating. “Let’s sit, shall we?”

There’s no reason for me to meet this man, a notably big fish in Democratic politics, when I’m a small-fish sophomore member of Congress. Even though our states share a border, I imagine our social and political circles are miles apart. Throughout the primary, Darrow has floated on a raft of Silicon Valley and Hollywood money.

When he’s engrossed in a conversation with a real estate developer at the other side of the table, Lauren turns to me.

“Where are you staying while you’re in town?”

“Here at the Hyatt.”

“Really? I didn’t see you on the VIP list.” Her lip twitches with annoyance. She’s clearly accustomed to having information at the ready.

“I’m staying under my maiden name. For privacy.”

“Oh. How silly of me to assume.” Lauren’s smile returns. “So, Grace, tell me what you’ve been doing with your summer.”

Oh, not much. Just prepping to be a vice presidential nominee while having a steamy, love-hate affair with a political consultant. “It’s pretty quiet. Constituent meetings, a few town halls, local fundraising, and getting ready for the session in September.”