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chest. Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled straight back, highlighting her high cheekbones and blue eyes. She looked radiant, her skin kissed by the California sun, her feminine, sexy glow contrasting sharply with the pale, boorish formalism of her predecessor. Camera flashes from the paparazzi and the partygoers blinked like a sea of lightning bugs.
    â€œWe have been to eight balls tonight, but we saved the best for last,” Long began to applause. “This is our last stop before we turn in, and it’s a special one for us because it includes so many of our good friends from California.”
    â€œWe love you, Mr. President!” someone shouted.
    â€œAnd I love you right back.” More scattered applause.
    â€œHarry Truman once said if you want a friend in this town, buy a dog.” (Laughter.) “Well, we have two dogs, so we’re going to be just fine.” (More laughter—isn’t he a stitch!) “Seriously, so many wonderful people supported us and helped us in what was an uphill campaign. Not a lot of people gave us much of a chance, but you stood with us when tonight seemed like an impossible dream. Claire and I will never forget your friendship. We don’t really need any new friends in Washington because we like the ones we have.” More applause and cheers. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have one last dance with my bride.” The crowd cheered. Camera flashes exploded as the band began to play. Long wrapped an arm around Claire’s waist, grabbed her hand in his, and skillfully glided across the stage. Balloons dropped from a net above, creating a magical moment of seemingly limitless possibility.
    â€œMr. Noble, the president would like to see you,” came the hushed voice from behind him. Jay turned to see an advance man. “Follow me.” Jay quickly motioned to Satcha, who was being ogled by a corporate muckety-muck who had bought his way into the VIP suite with an obscenely large contribution. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along as he followed the advance man down a flight of stairs and into a service hallway behind the stage. Jay could hear the strains of violin strings as the president and First Lady danced. As they came down the hall, Jay caught sight of Lisa with Senator Russell Evans. He felt a pang of regret. Even the balm of Satcha’s hot looks and celebrity did not seem to salve the wound.
    â€œHello, Jay,” Lisa said, her eyes sizing up Satcha with undisguised curiosity. “Isn’t this a lot of fun?” Lisa looked stunning, her black hair flowed down to her creamy white shoulders, the straps of her green sequined dress bringing out her hazel eyes.
    â€œIt is indeed,” Jay replied. “Tomorrow comes the hard part.”
    â€œSometimes I think anything will be a breeze after the campaign,” said Lisa. She introduced him to Senator Evans, whose gleaming white teeth and jet-black hair seemed a tad too perfect.
    The president burst through the blue curtain and bounded down the stairs behind the stage. He and Claire were effervescent.
    â€œJay, my main man!” the president shouted. He was jacked. “How did you convince such a pretty woman to be your date?” His eyes twinkled. He was in a great mood, flying high.
    Jay was about to answer when Satcha jumped in. “Actually, Mr. President, I find that I’m only attracted to men of uncommon intelligence.” She winked.
    â€œI see,” replied the president mischievously. “Well, I knew it wasn’t his looks.”
    â€œShe’s only using me to get an interview with you,” Jay joked.
    â€œI am not!” said Satcha, her voice laced with mock indignation. “Well, I do want an interview. You should give me your first one-on-one, Mr. President.”
    â€œYou have to convince Lisa,” Long shot back playfully. “She’s the gatekeeper.” Jay knew the president was deliberately