“Buy me a drink, and I’ll tell you all about them.”

“Later, Dad.”

“What an impressive young man,” Gloria said after they had headed for the bar. “That’s the hardest I’ve laughed since David passed.”

“We love him. He’s everything to us and makes us laugh every day.”

“I can see why you adore him. How’s Sam doing? I couldn’t believe when I heard about her broken hip.”

“It’s been an ordeal, but she’s this close to back to normal and should be here any minute. They had a huge bust this afternoon, a guy they’ve been after for weeks.”

“What an impressive family you have, Mr. President.”

“Thank you. You’ll hear me talk tonight about how I finally have it all now that I have them.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

As Nick scanned the crowded room full of familiar faces, he saw no sign of the one face he most wanted to see, with just thirty minutes until he was expected in the House chamber. Would she make it in time?

Sam was in a cold sweat, stuffed into a tiny basement bathroom in the Capitol that Vernon had known about, trying to whip herself into first lady shape in time to face the public. Shelby had met her, bringing the hair-and-makeup team from the White House.

“Time check,” Sam said.

“Eight thirty-five,” Shelby said.

“Ugh, Nick is going to be so pissed I’m this late.”

“He’ll understand,” Shelby said. “You got your guy.”

Would he, though? He’d clearly said this was one of the few first lady command performances, and she couldn’t show up looking like she’d been dragged through horse manure. After she’d changed into the red dress Marcus had sent, she slid her feet into her one pair of Louboutins and took a few steps, testing whether her hip would allow for the heels.

“I think I can do this,” she said to Shelby as she emerged from the stall with her work clothes in a bundle under her arm.

“Do what?”

“Wear the heels. First time since the break.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Hell no, but I’m going with it.”

Shelby took Sam’s work clothes and put them in her huge tote bag.

Davida and Ginger, the White House hairstylist and makeup queen, appeared with a chair and the equipment they needed to make her presentable. Usually, she saw them one at a time, but with no time to spare, they attacked from the front and back, working with intense focus to get the job done quickly.

It was ludicrous, she knew, to be preparing for such an important event in a basement bathroom in the Capitol. Traditional first ladies probably spent an entire day getting ready for the State of the Union. She experienced yet another twinge of anxiety, knowing she’d never be a traditional first lady.