Chapter 6
six
. . .
For the second time, it seems that Margot Lawrence is not the candidate for Ellory Campbell.
Margot was seen leaving the residence building in Caroline late Wednesday evening and never returned for the training intensive with Henry Barss.
No word yet on how this has affected Ellory or her strategy moving forward with the Candidates tournament.
Could this be a check uncashed? Or has she already claimed her deposit?
Signing off, I am Richard Locus, and this is Endernet, coming to you from Lethbridge, where community grows. Back to you, Han.
A month goes by. I go through the motions of training, but it’s as satisfying as stale bread. I can’t get Margot out of my mind. She haunts every move I make on the board, every walk I take through the park near my house. She has me second-guessing every time I try to read someone.
So I’m not surprised when my subconscious conjures her outside the doors of the playing hall of the Candidates. Maybe Richard was right. Maybe I don’t have a name without Margot.
I wave at the apparition, trying to dissolve her, but she doesn’t leave.
Instead, she gestures for me to follow her as she turns the corner and opens the door to the storage closet.
It’s only then that I realize that this isn’t something my brain has made up.
There isn’t anything blurred about her, and she has a whole shadow cast on the perfectly polished marble floor.
My apathy morphs into rage, and I follow her with my fists balled at my sides.
“Margot, what the hell are you doing here?” I hiss through my teeth.
She drags me into the room and quietly closes the door behind us, taking a quick peek to make sure we haven’t been followed.
I whirl around to face her. Why here? Why now? Hasn’t she inflicted enough pain?
“I had to see you,” she says.
I scoff and roll my eyes, heart burning with fury and something else I dare not name. “You didn’t think to—I don’t know, text? Or call? Or email or something like a normal person?” I throw up my hands, exasperated and preeminently fed up with her excuses, she’s sure to bring to the table.
“I tried, Lore, I did, but everything bounced back. I thought you’d blocked me or something, so I decided to come see you in person, despite—” Her words stop abruptly.
“Despite what?” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.
“Despite who,” she corrects, biting her lower lip.
“Margot, let’s just skip this part where you dance around what you mean, and I follow along because I literally don’t know how not to, and then at the end, somehow forgive you even though my brain is screaming at me not to. So just … tell me. Why are you here?”
Margot sucks in a sharp breath and sets her jaw.
Her words come out in a nearly incomprehensible flurry.
“It’s Randy, he saw me the night we got together, and he figured out what happened, and it was like he was just waiting for me to fuck up because before I knew it, he was holding out a paper to me like it was a fucking summons. ”
Okay, so Randy had figured out we slept together. So what? It wasn’t like we had exactly been discreet. Anyone could have found them and added it all together. I give Margot a look to continue.
“It was worse than a summons, Lore. Remember when-when I … left?”
How could I forget?
“Yes, Margot, I remember how you broke my heart not once, but twice. Thank you for the painful reminder.”
Margot winces, as if my words have lashed her. Is this a game? A performance? And if so, why is she trying so hard to play her part?
“Lore, I-it’s not that simple. I left before because I-I’m a coward and …
I was scared you’d find out. Find out that this”—she gestures up and down her body—“is just a facade. It’s not who I really am.
Well, it is now, but it wasn’t always, and Randy found out, and he threatened to release it, and Lore, I’m really sorry, I am.
” Tears well in her eyes, and she pushes her palms into them as if trying to dam the currents from racing down her cheeks.
For the first time in this entire conversation, I believe she’s being genuine.
A part of me wants to reach out to her, to tell her it’s okay and that we can get through all of this together.
And then I remember that she’s here, out of the blue, just minutes before my final match against Randy Carlisle.
This is the fucking Candidates, and she’s here making a scene?
No.
Think, Ellory. Margot is one of the best calculators in the world. She knows how much this means to you. Why would she come now? Why risk it? Why risk her? Why risk you?
Deep down, I know that even if Margot enjoys living life on the edge, she would never compromise me unless it was for her own benefit. Not intentionally. So what is it?
“What does he have against you?” I ask, smoothing my tone.
She looks up at me, eyes stained red from her tears.
She wipes her cheek with the back of her hand before answering me.
“I didn’t leave Paris because of you, Lore.
I left because I’d been found out. I got an email that morning, the same one that Randy showed me last week.
The files were supposed to be buried. I paid someone to get rid of them, but they’re obviously still out there somewhere.
I was—I was … a con artist of sorts. I’ve always had good looks, I mean—I guess, but held myself the way men liked.
I’d figure out who to target in a crowd—someone with a fancy watch, a new car, a tailored suit, and then I’d find a way to get them to come home with me.
They gave me gifts when I asked for them, and I thought I was safe until I met the last one.
A man who said he would pay my way through school, offered me a house, a car, to pay for my mom’s chemotherapy, everything, as long as he could have me.
And who was I to say no? He was rich, handsome, and kind.
So what if he liked it rough? So what if I had to wear long sleeves and scarves?
I made it my fashion, owned it instead of it owning me.
And then my mom died anyway. I didn’t know what to do.
My grades started crashing, so I dropped out of college.
And when the darkness of being in the house all alone got to me, I decided to pick up chess again, and … I met a girl.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Me?”
Margot nods and tucks a stray hair behind her ear.
“You, Lore. You turned my whole world upside down. You showed me that life was more than fancy clothes, Michelin-star restaurants, and cocktail parties. I wanted to fall asleep on your couch with a half-finished box of pizza. I wanted to go for a walk through your favorite park in my sweatpants. I wanted to live outside the confines of the jail I didn’t realize I had so carefully constructed.
And so I told him I wanted out. I left his last check on the counter, along with the keys to the house and car, and I left.
I never looked back until, a year later, when you and I made the news with our scandal before the last Candidates.
I got an email filled with photos: me on his arm, smiling up lovingly, with a diamond collar; me in compromising positions; me with his dick in my mouth, mascara running down my face; me in a faux fur coat and earmuffs at new year’s eve; me holding the keys to my Audi, me standing in front of the sold sign of the house.
And then the words You cheated me, Margot.
You stole from me. You’re nothing but a two-faced whore, and the world will know EXACTLY who you are. ”
I do close the space between us then, as she slumps forward, body wracked with sobs. “Oh, Margot,” I say as I stroke her hair. Nothing about this feels right. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me?”
She chokes back a sob. “I was embarrassed, Lore. I came out of school without any student loans or anything, high on life just because I was hooking up with a monster. And I knew it too, I just … didn’t think I deserved any better.
And I didn’t know what it would do to you either.
What if I brought you down with me? Where is the fairness in that? ”
“Who was it, Margot?” I asked, somewhat afraid to know the answer. If she was here, it was a good bet it was someone in the building, or someone with ties to them.
“Paul.”
Paul? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone named Paul in the chess community, at least not at our level.
“Paul Carlisle,” she adds, and suddenly everything clicks into focus.
Randy Carlisle, whose father passed away three months ago.
Randy Carlisle, who said he’d seen Margot leaving that night.
Randy Carlisle, who would have had access to his father’s files after he passed away.
Randy Carlisle, who would do anything to win, including fabricating a story so scandalous that the only two women to compete at the Candidates level would be known more as lechers than competitors.
Randy Carlisle, with whom I shared a manager.
One who had access to my phone … my email … my social media—everything.
“That’s unfortunately not everything Randy said,” she starts through gritted teeth, “that you were more of a candy date than a candidate. So I made him eat his fucking words. If he wanted a taste of you so bad, he could feast on my knuckles soaked in your … perfume.”
She holds her hand up, displaying the faint green bruise still covering the back of her hand.
So that’s what got her kicked out of the tournament.
Something akin to pride blooms in my stomach.
She did that . . . for me? Put her dreams of becoming world champion on hold just to teach the bastard a lesson?
And there I was thinking the worst of her.
A sharp laugh escapes my throat against my will. “Margot, I’m sorry, I thought—I thought you’d left again,” I admit.
Margot shakes her head. “I will never abandon you, Ellory. Paris was a mistake I’ve been regretting since the minute I bought that plane ticket.
And I was too stubborn to own up to it and apologize.
But I’m here now, trying to make amends, trying to tell you that I—” Her lip quivers and her jaw works as she swallows.
I cup her cheeks with my hands and pull our foreheads together. “I know,” I tell her. “I love you too.”
“Good,” she says before pulling away and nudging my shoulder, her stoic face firmly reinstated. “Now go kick that guy’s ass.”
I give her a classic Margot smirk in return. “With pleasure.”
Ellory Campbell has set a new ceiling for women in the chess world, dethroning four-time champion Lewis Haynes, and showing the world that the queen truly is the most powerful piece after all.
After a gripping back-and-forth competition, Campbell pulled through with a flanking knight and checkmate on the board.
Photographed below is the new World Champion of classical chess signing knights at her local chess club to support the growing youth program in Lethbridge, Alberta.
This sweeping victory comes after the news of Randy Carlisle’s announcement of his retirement.
Campbell made quick work of him at the Candidates tournament earlier this year, leaving reporters to wonder if it was his bruised ego that caused him to stop the clock, or if there was more happening behind the scenes.
Regardless, Campbell’s victory streak is not to be understated.
Her quick calculations, time management, and tactics will surely be studied meticulously by fans and foes alike.
We will be watching the rest of her career with great interest.