“Of course.” I lead her to the hallway, pointing to the powder room beside the study where Fitz’s game is on. The Rebels are winning.

And today, I have a feeling, they’re going to win off the field too.

My phone chimes from where I’ve left it in the kitchen, and I rush to get it.

Congressman Cam

Hate to cancel last minute but I’ve been summoned to the White House.

A wave of nerves washes over me.

“Son of a bitch,” I mumble. I’m trying to think about what to text Cam back when there’s a knock at the door.

When it opens, I expect Agent Samuels to pop his head in. Maybe there’s a delivery. But it isn’t him. It’s another agent. Two of them actually. Neither of them I’ve seen before.

I slide around the counter so it’s between me and them. “What are you⁠—"

The two agents walk forward into the base of the living room area. “Where’s your friend?” one asks.

“What the hell is⁠—”

“Parker?” My head flings to the right when Abby appears in the doorway.

The agents turn in place, not approaching Abby. They only motion to the door with their hands. “Ma’am, I’m afraid we have to clear the place of nonessential personnel.”

I groan even though inside, I’m sighing. At least, it’s only Mom. “You can tell the First Lady my friend can stay.”

“Parker, it’s okay. I’ll go, you can call me later, okay?” She scoots past me, mouthing, I’ll wait downstairs, but I shake my head. I want her far from this.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “Fitz will be home soon.”

He won’t. And something tells me that everyone in this apartment already knows that, but it’s worth a try.

Abby nods gently, understanding, and I walk alongside her to the elevators, seeing her out. When I step back into the apartment, I bark, “You don’t have a right to barge in here. I don’t care who⁠—"

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dad says from behind me. I jump, spinning on my heel. “Oh. Well, what a beautiful place.” He leans forward, kissing my cheek.

I shiver, and I swear, from behind him, my mother smiles at my discomfort.

“What are you doing here?”

Dad smiles tightly. “We were up in Brookline for a fundraiser thrown by some old buddies. Figured we’d pass by.”

“Actually, I was just on my way out.” I grab my keys off the tray sitting on the table in the entry and head to the door.

But now the two agents stand in front of it, making sure I have nowhere to go.

I cringe when Mom puts her arm around my shoulders and turns me toward the kitchen. “I’m sure you can make a little time for us,” she says.