“Yes, sir. I don’t know if she’s Mexican, though.”

“What’s her last name?”

“Masterson, or something like that. But she’s married, so …”

“I don’t mind married women. I don’t say no to married women. My wife’s a married woman.”

Bradley smirked. “Yes, sir. And she is a beautiful woman, if I may say so.”

Flanery frowned. “Of course she is. I surround myself with beautiful women, Bradley. My wife, my daughter, every woman who works for me. You know the secret of a happy life, Bradley? It’s beauty. You put beautiful women everywhere you’re going to look, you only look at beautiful women, am I right?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Yes, I am. Every wife of mine has been more beautiful than the one before.” He put his plate down. “Send her over to me when this is done.”

Bradley’s smile dipped. “I’m sorry?”

“The blonde,” Flanery said. “Whatever her name is. Send her over to me when this is done. She can take off my make-up.”

“She’s not a …”

Flanery looked at him.

“Yes, Mr President,” Bradley said, quieter now. “I’ll send her over.”

“You do that,” Flanery said, as Wilkes walked into the room. He was followed by Dennis Conlon – just the man Flanery wanted to see. “Bradley, give us a minute alone, would you?”

“Yes,” Bradley said, bouncing to his feet. “I should get back to the studio, actually. I’ll see you there, sir, in—” he checked his watch “—just under eight minutes. It’s gonna be a good one, I can tell!”

Flanery waved him away and Bradley left, grinning, and closed the door to the green room behind him.

Alone now, Wilkes and Conlon sat, and Flanery’s good humour soured. “Tell me,” he said.

Conlon tried smiling. “Tell you what, sir?”

“Tell me what you think,” said Flanery. “As an expert. You are an expert, aren’t you? I mean, that’s why we hired you. That’s what everyone told me you were. This last week. The mainstream media say it’s been my worst week since I took office. What do you think?”

Conlon took a deep breath, and let it out. “There are positives we can draw from the past few days,” he said. “We’ve seen a boost within your core demographic that is, quite frankly, astonishing, and something we should be keeping an eye on in the—”

“Are you a yes-man, Conlon?” Flanery interrupted.

“Sir?”

“A yes-man. Like Wilkes here. Isn’t that right, Wilkes? You’d say yes to just about anything I suggested, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t dare contradict me or tell me I’m wrong, would you?”

Wilkes sat there and went red, but Flanery wasn’t letting him off that easy.

“Well?” he pressed.

“I’m here to give you the best advice I can—”

“Would you contradict me? Would you tell me I’m wrong?”