“Tell me about it,” he says. He offers his hand. “I’m Jake.”

She has a nice, firm shake. “Brooke Schuster,” she says. “You look familiar to me for some reason. Have we met before?”

Jake stares at the lime wedge choking the neck of his bottle. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” she says. “Because I swear…”

“I’m Jake McCloud,” he says, and when that doesn’t clear up the confusion on her face, he adds, “My ex-wife, Ursula de Gournsey—”

Brooke snaps her fingers. “Yes! That’s where I know you from.” She takes a sip of her beer. “Well, if it makes a difference, I voted for her and I was sorry to see her lose.”

“Everything in life works out as it should,” Jake says.

“Spoken like a man who wants to change the subject,” Brooke says. “And I can’t blame you. What are you doing here at the Box?”

“Ah,” Jake says. “Reliving the past with a buddy of mine from college.” He takes another quick look at Brooke. She’s pretty, he decides, and the cut-off shorts are giving him strong Mallory vibes. He checks her left hand—she’s wearing a lot of silver but nothing that looks like an engagement ring or wedding band. So here it is, finally—an opportunity to have a conversation with a grown woman in real life. He can practically hear Bess urging him along: Come on, Dad, you have to get back out there! But dating, or even chatting up someone, feels like so much effort—getting to know someone from scratch, starting all over with personal histories, figuring out what makes someone else tick—he’s not sure he’s up for it.

Brooke sets her beer firmly down on the bar. “I’ll probably regret saying this in the morning, but I had something of a celebrity crush on you.”

“On me?” Jake knows he sounds surprised, though he’s aware there was a small part of the female electorate across the country who turned a Jake McCloud crush into a thing. (There had been an article in The Cut entitled “The Very Real Sex Appeal of Mister UDG.”) At nearly every event Jake did on behalf of his wife, someone would slip a note to him or brazenly approach his security detail, asking for a “private meeting.” Jake always told Ursula about these overtures and when she could spare a few moments of her attention, she would pat his cheek and say, “I’m well aware how appealing you are, the adoring, devoted husband, handsome and well-spoken, and I’m grateful.” This patronizing response had stoked Jake’s resentment—Ursula only cared about how Jake’s persona reflected on her—but Jake had continued to be up-front about every woman who approached him, in the name of propriety.