Moss stomped his way out of the room, down the hall to one of the many guest rooms, where he headed for the shower. He stepped in the moment the water rushed out of the twenty-seven pulsing jets, still wearing his grungy clothes and Timberland boots. There were more ways than one to skin a cat, and he knew them all, he assured himself, as he peeled off his filthy, sweat-stained clothes.

The First Lady, also known as Emily Helen Knight of the United States, paced the family quarters as she waited for her husband to join her for lunch. He was an hour late, which was nothing new. When his press secretary called her midmorning to say the President wanted to have lunch in their private quarters, she hadn’t been the least surprised. Gabe needed to talk. Or he wanted her to talk. As in, share the latest White House gossip. She wondered what it was this time. Probably something to do with Lincoln Moss, she decided.

Emily Knight picked up her pace as she walked from one room to the other. She was a plain, pleasant woman who was often compared to a young Bess Truman. At first, she’d been insulted, then flattered. Bess Truman was a kind, gentle woman who did not let her position influence or take away from the real person she was. Lincoln Moss didn’t like her. He’d made that abundantly clear the day Gabe introduced her to his best friend in the whole world. He thought Gabe could do better than a farm girl from Kansas. But Gabe had defied Lincoln and proposed, and she’d accepted. They had had a wonderful marriage until they moved here to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Wonderful as long as she stayed out of Lincoln Moss’s sight. It was still wonderful in many ways when Lincoln Moss wasn’t in the picture, even living here at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the most famous address in the world.

Emily was aware of all the gossip, the insider backbiting, and the downright nastiness that went on within these hallowed walls. There were those who said Gabe couldn’t tie his shoes unless Lincoln showed him how to do it. It wasn’t true, but still they said it. In many ways, it was Gabe’s fault that he allowed Lincoln to overpower and overshadow him. Then there were the whispers about Moss’s little black book, the book everyone feared, even Gabe, if the whispers were true. Personally, she believed it and wouldn’t put it past Lincoln Moss to blackmail anyone who crossed his path. She’d learned the hard way not to interfere in any way in the relationship between her husband and Lincoln Moss. Every night, she prayed for insight and the hope that someday she would come to understand that particular friendship.