“Natalie, that was gold, pure gold.” It was the Chief. “I loved the back-and-forth with Ryan. I loved your just-the-facts-ma’am attitude. And I love how you defended the First Lady.”

Her heart revved like a race car. She had defended the First Lady! And it was good! “Thank you,” she stammered.

“This is a huge story. FLOTUS is out on a sexcapade, the president is being de-manned before our eyes. It’s pure candy and viewers are going to eatit up. You’ve just shown me what I needed to see. I want you to be our First Lady correspondent.” He paused. “Remember, cable is all about attitude. So keep up the attitude.”

“Okay, Chief, will do,” she said, though she had no idea what attitude he wanted her to keep.

For a moment, she enjoyed the warm glow of approval spreading through her body. “That was the Chief,” she told Matt at last. “He wants me as the First Lady correspondent!”

Matt smiled. “I told you, Savage. That was great TV. And if you just listen to me and do what I say, you’ll—”

“Stop talking,” she said, not willing to let him ruin her moment of triumph.

He grinned. “Good practice. Keep that up and we’ll have McGreasy by his McBalls in no time.”

Natalie was back on the newsroom floor, at her desk, re-watching the FLOTUS video, hoping to find some clue about when or where it was shot, when she realized she’d just watched the same clip three times and not seen it once.

She was distracted, and not by the video. The Chief’s excitement had awakened a sense of optimism, which had her thinking about James, the hot cartographer from the coffee place. She reached into her pocket and thumbed his card.

Seriously, who was a cartographer these days? It sounded like something made up for a period drama, a globe-trotting cartographer who traveled the world studying boundaries and seducing ladies.

She had his info. She should email him.

Absolutely. Right after you get an apartment. And clean hair.

She went back to the video, still not seeing it. What was the big deal about writing a random hot guy you barely knew? She was an adult. More, she was the First Lady correspondent. The First Lady correspondent couldn’t be shy about making contact.

Before she could lose her nerve she pulled out his card and started a text.

Natalie: Thank you for your navigation expertise today. It was invaluable.

She hit Send before realizing she hadn’t said who this was.

Natalie: This is Natalie, I forgot to say that.

How would he remember which Natalie? Had she even introduced herself earlier? She couldn’t remember.

Natalie: From BrewHouse. The one with brown hair, in front of you in line?

Keep going! Her brain urged. Boys like crazy people! Maybe next you can suggest moving in together and favorite baby names!

Her email dinged.