She fidgeted in her chair and wondered if she should make some kind of sporty noise, too.

“Whoop, whoop,” she mumbled, trying to mimic their enthusiasm.

“Three minutes to air!” a voice shouted.

Ryan pointed at a monitor where Jazzmyn Maine, the morning anchor, was live on air, sparkling like a brilliant-cut diamond. As always, Natalie was struck by Jazzmyn’s allure. With her big blue eyes, bright blond hair, and chest-baring blouse, Jazzmyn was mesmerizing, even on mute—scratch that, especially on mute.

“She really pops on camera,” Ryan said worshipfully. Natalie looked up to see both Ryan and the stage manager staring at Jazzmyn’s image on the TV, as though they’d become the subject of a secret Illuminati mind control exercise.

“Mmm-hmm,” one of the guys on set murmured.

Jazzmyn’s show went to break and, mind control shattered, Ryan proclaimed, “I hear she’s into threesomes.” Abruptly he swiveled to face Heath. “Did two guys on the Judiciary Committee staff. It’s all over Capitol Hill.”

“Really?” Heath mumbled without looking up from his notecards while Natalie started fidgeting in her seat, suddenly intensely aware that she was alone with five men.

Ryan pressed on confidently. “I know a guy from her last station. And they say she’s into group sex.” He paused for a reaction but Heath, still studying his notecards, merely frowned whether in disbelief or disapproval Natalie couldn’t tell.

“Ryan,” Natalie began, feeling duty bound to speak up on behalf of another woman, “that’s uncool of you to say.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s cool,” said the stagehand who’d no doubt had his cold hands up Jazzmyn’s shirt, too.

“That mental image will keep me warm at night,” a voice from the control room added in Natalie’s ear.

“Hey,” Ryan said, putting up his hands. “Just repeating what I heard.” It took all Natalie’s willpower to stay quiet. This was not the time to pick a fight, especially not about the Hefner-at-home vibe in the room. She had to be focused and ready for air.

The seconds stretched on in silence until someone on the floor yelled, “One minute to air!”

Natalie inhaled sharply then exhaled, giving a fluff to her drowned-rat hair with one hand and smoothing out her blouse with the other.

Heath had started making big movements with his mouth, like he was warming up his lip muscles. Ryan, watching him, started doing the same. When Heath moved from making big OOs to EEs, Ryan stopped to wipe away drool that was pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“We’re live in 15...10...5, 4, 3, 2...”

The stage manager pointed at Heath, whose face transformed into a stunning smile. “Hello, world. It’s 11 a.m. on the East Coast, 8 a.m. on the West Coast. Welcome to a special edition of Big Politics with Heath Heatherton.”