The West Wing was buzzing, and I knew why. It was an election year, and my vote—more importantly, my endorsement—could sway millions. That’s why I was here, though the two men flanking me were acting like this was a casual chat.

“Do you know how hard it was to get this meeting?” Sam Seaborn asked, exasperated.

I smirked. “Well, I am kind of busy.”

Josh Lyman scoffed. “You’re also one Instagram post away from changing the election.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So that’s why I’m here?”

“Oh, you’re here because the President wants to meet you,” Sam said smoothly. “Who you vote for is, of course, entirely your decision.”

Josh grinned. “Technically.”

I laughed. “Let me guess—before I see the President, you two get first crack at convincing me?”

“Think of it as a friendly conversation,” Sam offered.

Josh cut in. “A friendly conversation where you realize President Bartlet is obviously the only rational choice, and you can’t wait to tell your millions of fans.”

I stopped walking. “You do know I’ve met Governor Ritchie, right? His campaign wants my endorsement just as badly.”

Josh sighed. “Okay, fine. Fifteen minutes. If we don’t convince you, we’ll back off.”

Sam blinked. “We will?” Josh ignored him. “Just hear us out.”

I crossed my arms. “Fifteen minutes. Make it count.”