The chair sighed. Natalie moved her eyes back to the television monitors just in time to see Nelly Jones lean in intently and ask the camera, “Is there trouble in the First Marriage? What’s the real reason the First Lady’s a no-show to tonight’s state dinner?”

Before Nelly could toss to one of the boxes of pundits, music blared and a JUST IN graphic rolled across the screen. Ryan popped up, announcing that he had a statement from White House Communications Director Adam Majors, and Natalie’s stomach coiled into a tight knot. Ryan had snared the White House’s most senior press wrangler as a top source.

On TV, Ryan began reading. “President Crusoe will not take sides in a he-said-she-said. No doubt both sides have reason to be upset. No doubt both parties bear some blame. The Crusoe administration will not put its finger on the scales of justice.” Ryan looked up at the camera and explained that Rigo Lystra has every right to stay at the Colombian embassy until Venezuela drops these “unproven charges.” Embellishing, he added, “The White House is taking a stand for letting the truth come out. We are at ground zero of a fight for freedom.”

Natalie’s hands tightened into fists. Ryan’s self-importance was bad but his unquestioning embrace of the White House’s line of absurdity was infuriating. Was he really going to pretend that Crusoe’s team was keeping its hands to itself when clearly it had its fingers up justice’s skirt? It sounded like they’d gotten to at least third base.

In a way this is Andrea’s fault, she thought angrily. She has to know better if Ryan doesn’t. And speaking of producers, where the hell is Matt? Shouldn’t he be landing some ONLY ON ATN tips for me?

Her phone buzzed.

MOM: Do you know this new reporter, Ryan? He’s very good.

MOM: He seems to be very well informed. I hear he’s from an important family. And so handsome!

MOM: Maybe he’s single? You could bring him to the wedding. Women go with younger men all the time these days.

“I’m going to kill someone,” Natalie muttered.

Natalie jumped when a female voice at her shoulder said, “This is a joke? About killing. You do not mean to do a killing?”

Natalie turned to find the Asian camerawoman who’d narrowly escaped a mauling by Handsy Hal before the town hall standing behind her desk.

“It is a joke. I’m not planning on doing any killing,” Natalie said, hoping whoever this was would leave her alone.

“I see,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I am Dasha, camerawoman.”