Maggie Spritzer rolled out of bed, beelined for the bathroom, took a quick look in the mirror at her bed hair, and winced. She quickly brushed her teeth, then ran downstairs to make coffee. The clock on the kitchen range said it was 6:20. The perfect time to call Lincoln Moss. With any luck at all, she wouldn’t have to speak to the man and could simply leave a message. Then again, she’d read somewhere that he got up at four-thirty in the morning and by six-thirty he was raring to go. When asked where he went that early in the morning, he’d snapped, “The White House.” End of story as she remembered it.

Maggie scrolled through her address book until she found the listing for Lincoln Moss’s home landline. She punched in the numbers and waited. Did the man answer his own phone or did he have some housekeeper or secretary do it for him? She had no clue. She waited, counting the rings, five, six, seven, and the call went to voice mail. Maggie felt herself relax immediately. The message was the same as all voice-mail messages. This is Lincoln Moss. Obviously I’m not home, so leave your name, your number, and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.

Maggie spoke quickly to be sure she got her entire message across before the voice mail kicked over to the next call. “Mr. Moss, this is Maggie Spritzer from the Post. I’m calling to thank you for the lovely flowers. That wasn’t necessary, and I appreciate the thought. Also, I’m calling to tell you that yesterday you were in the lead for our Man of the Year contest, but overnight, the Director of the FBI, Jack Sparrow, has taken the lead. Just so you know we are aware of the adversarial nature of your relationship with Director Sparrow, so we will have to address that, and the fact that he is the one escorting your wife to the First Lady’s gala on Saturday night. This is just my personal opinion, Mr. Moss, but I think you could regain your lead if you would agree to a sit-down interview with me, and I can assure you, you’d win if your wife was at your side. The interview would have to take place either late today or early tomorrow morning. Of course, the decision is entirely up to you. My colleague, Ted Robinson, has been granted an interview with Director Sparrow for sometime around noon today. You can reach me at the Post or call me back at this number.” Maggie rattled off both numbers, before breaking the connection. She had a vision of Lincoln Moss sitting in a chair listening to her speak and giving her the famous single-digit salute.