“Fantastic,” he said. “Maybe the first one could be in a few weeks? I could do one every Friday afternoon for the next few months!”

Kara laughed out loud.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m sorry, but no. A few weeks? This will take a great deal of planning and coordination; it’ll take closer to a few months for us to do this right.”

Sometimes he was happy that he had a staff who would tell it to him like it was and not jump to satisfy his every whim, even if those whims were ridiculous. But when they laughed at him like this . . . okay, fine, he was still happy about it, just less happy.

“Right, I didn’t think about that,” he said.

Kara flipped through her calendar.

“Plus, your schedule is pretty packed for the next few months, what with it being an election year and all. You have at least one fundraiser almost every week until I don’t know when.”

This was the problem with having someone on your staff whose literal job it was to schedule your time—he had no idea what was on his calendar from week to week.

“Nobody in Congress wants to vote for my bill, but they still want me at their fundraisers, huh?” he asked.

Kara looked up at him, a wry smile on her face.

“You know how this town works—you get a lot of headlines and buzz, so whether or not they want to vote for your bill, they still want you to make speeches to get people to throw dollars toward their campaigns.”

Kara made another note, then looked up at him.

“However, we could make this into a plan for the August recess. There will be lots of places that will be thrilled to have you, and some members of Congress, or Democratic challengers, who will be very happy to be on board.”

Kara stood up, notebook in one hand and calendar in the other.

“Let me call Andy, and then he can talk to the district offices and we’ll see if we can come up with a timetable.” She paused at his office door. “Good idea, sir. Please thank your friend for me.”

Max pulled out his phone to text Olivia as soon as Kara had closed the door behind her.

Chief of staff loves the town halls idea—told me to thank you for her. So thank you, from both me and her. Wish I could thank you in person right now, though.

Not for the first time, he wished Washington, DC, and L.A. were closer together. If only he could see Olivia again tonight.

“What have I gotten myself into?”

All week, as Olivia had done client work, written pitches for clients the firm hoped to get, and gone to lunches and coffees with law school friends and former colleagues to try to drum up business, that phrase had been drumming through her head. But not about the firm—about Max. How had she committed herself to him? And how did she miss him this goddamn much? Their weekend together had been so perfect, and she hated that because of the time difference and his job, all they had time for this week was occasional texts and a few quick phone calls.

And then she was furious at herself for missing him that much. And liking him that much. She’d caught herself daydreaming about his eyelashes in the middle of the workday, like some lovesick teenager. His eyelashes! He kept saying—and acting as if—he liked her that much, too, but this all just seemed far too good to be true.

The worst part was, she knew she desperately wanted it to be true. She wanted Max to be the caring, thoughtful, interesting man he seemed to be. She wanted the opportunity to get to know that man better. She wanted his desire for her, his interest in her, to be real. But she was still afraid she couldn’t trust any of it.

“Ready for bowling?” Max asked as Olivia opened her front door on Friday night.

She stepped outside.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I haven’t gone bowling in years. We’ll see how this goes.”

He gestured down the street.

“I’m parked a few houses down—I don’t want anyone to recognize my car in your driveway. I’m sorry, I should have thought of that before.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” She was glad he’d thought about it now. “Thanks.”

They got in the car and he reached for her, then pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I forgot. I can’t kiss you here; I should have come inside for a few minutes. And I’ve been wanting to kiss you so much all week.”

She put her hand on his knee.

“We’ll have plenty of time after bowling. Or”—she raised an eyebrow at him— “we could go back inside.”

He grinned at her, and put his hand over hers.

“If we do that, we’re never leaving. And you know, I like bowling, but . . .”

She squeezed his hand.

“Look how impatient you are. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but we can wait.”

Plus, she had her own reasons for wanting to go bowling tonight.

He drove them out to a place he’d found online that was supposed to have pub food that was actually good and beer in a bar attached to the bowling alley, and where you could reserve lanes in advance.

“Thank you for finding this place—I’m glad we’re not going to have to wait forever for a lane,” she said.

He laughed.

“I’m glad I found this place, too, or else I wouldn’t have suggested bowling at all. I loathe having to wait for things. I know maybe that makes me a privileged jerk; sometimes I make myself wait in line for brunch, just to prove I still can, but I hate every second of it.”

Olivia laughed.

“I hate it, too. That first weekend after I got here, I went to one of those places for brunch that I see all over Instagram, and I had to wait for an hour and a half! The food was good, but I’m not sure if there’s any food worth waiting an hour and a half for on a Sunday morning.”

“Thank God you feel that way,” he said.

He put on his fake glasses before they got out of the car. She still hadn’t seen him in that blond wig, but the glasses, plus his tousled hair and plain T-shirt, really did make him look different from the Senator Powell she saw on TV.

Their lane was flanked by teenagers’ birthday parties. The teens had obviously been there for a while and were already rowdy, which was perfect. Teens wouldn’t pay attention to the two of them, bless them.

Max picked up a bowling ball with three fingers, while Olivia tried out one ball, then another.

“I don’t even remember what I’m looking for here—what are these supposed to feel like?”

He picked up one of the balls she put down.

“You want it heavy enough so it can spin down the lane and knock over all of the pins but not so heavy you have trouble tossing it.”

She picked up a silver glittery ball and smiled.

“I think this is the one.”

Max went back to the first one he’d picked up.

“Are you just saying that because it’s sparkly?”

She grinned at him.

“So what if I am? A woman’s got to have some flair if she has to wear shoes like this, okay?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“Let’s order some food now, I’m starving. You can press the buttons right here and they bring it to you.”

They ordered loaded nachos and beer to start, and someone brought over their beer as Max and Olivia were setting up the scoring on the screen.