“Love it!” the control room said as, on cue, one half of the screen filled with video of Ryan removing his shirt earlier that week, on the other half was a live picture of Ryan, looking pissed, on set.

In her peripheral vision, Natalie noticed Matt on side of the studio, making pummeling gestures like he was knocking out a WWE competitor.

“Thank you for making my point for me,” Ryan said, recovering.

“Which is?”

“Showing flesh gets attention. So do fake accusations. Do you think it’s just a coincidence Barbaro is promoting a film about sexual assault while claiming to be a victim of one? Listen, I grew up in politics and I know how these games go. Claiming assault is a great way to get free media and lots of sympathy, which is exactly what we’re giving her right now.” He sounded sanctimonious. “If you want to talk about victims, let’s talk about the victim holed up in the Colombian embassy.”

“Rigo Lystra? He is among the richest people in the world with his own army and a fleet of private jets at his disposal. How on earth is he a victim?” Natalie asked.

“Rich men can’t be innocent?”

“Famous women can’t be assaulted?” Natalie did her best to summon her version of Ryan’s Earnest and Sincere look. “I’m curious, Ryan, what would you like Sonia Barbaro to do? Give up her career, go into hiding? And if you would silence Sonia Barbaro, an international celebrity, what kind of message are you sending far less powerful women who are worried about being shamed for speaking out about assault?” Natalie asked.

“Alleged assault,” Ryan corrected. “No one has been found guilty here.” His eyes shone as he took the high road. He was right. “And let’s talk about who’s really in hiding. Rigo Lystra is holed up in a building on Massachusetts Avenue that he can’t leave. He can’t have a life. While Sonia Barbaro is globe-trotting and going to Hollywood parties dressed like a stripper.”

“Guys, this is great stuff!” the control room enthused. “We have a surprise caller. Stand by. We’re letting him join you now.”

The next voice came over the crackling sounds of a cell phone line.

“Hola, mis amigos. ¡Buenos días!” said a familiar voice.

“¡Rigo, mi amigo!” Ryan broke out in a warm grin. “How are you?”

“To be honest, my friend, it is very hard. Living here in solitude. For me, freedom is a memory.”

It took all Natalie’s willpower to hold back a groan. According to the Washington Post, he’d had the cast of Cirque du Soleil flown in for a show the night before.