He’d probably get used to Olivia’s reluctance to make decisions without some sort of waiting period and matrix at some point. He tamped his irritation down; it made sense that she’d need more time.

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said.

A week later, they were in the back seat of his car together, on their way to the community center. His aide Andy was driving, and another member of his L.A. staff, Brittany, was in the passenger seat.

“You ready for this?” he asked.

Olivia looked around the car and held tight to his hand.

“I think so,” she said in a low voice. “I’m glad you’re going to get to see the food pantry. I did always want to bring you there.” She glanced into the front seat. “But maybe not like this.”

She straightened her dress; it was a blue-striped sundress—very patriotic. Her hair was in a big knot on the top of her head. She looked professional, well put together, and also beautiful. He squeezed her hand.

“It’ll be great. And the fundraiser tonight will be . . . well, we won’t have to stay long, at least.”

She laughed. They were going to a Fourth of July fundraiser that night at the home of one of the big party donors. He’d been to dozens, maybe hundreds of events like this by now, but he was really looking forward to going to this one with Olivia by his side.

“Good thing I have a different dress for that one,” she said. “Just in case I spill barbecue sauce on this one.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Oh God, that’ll be the picture every tabloid runs with. ‘Max Powell’s new girlfriend, the slob!’ ”

They both laughed. He was glad she could make jokes about all this. From what Kara said, after these pictures came out, there would be another small flurry of local news stories, and then everything would calm down. He hoped so, for Olivia’s sake. And he was pretty sure she was right; July would be such a busy news month that no one would have much time for gossip about the relationship of a senator who wasn’t even up for reelection this year.

Andy pulled into a parking spot outside the community center, and Andy and Brittany both jumped out of the car. Max and Olivia stayed put.

“Remember, I’ll come around the car to you, and . . .”

Olivia took off her seat belt and nodded to him.

“I know, then we’ll walk in together, I remember!”

Their doors opened simultaneously, and he smiled over his shoulder to her.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew I’d be right there by your side.”

He squeezed her hand one more time before they got out of the car.

Olivia smoothed her dress down again, then swung both of her legs together out of the car. She’d been practicing how to do that all week. She was barely on her feet when Max came around the car and took her hand. Oh, okay—she hadn’t realized they were going to do the hand-holding thing again. At least this would give her something to do with her hands as they walked into the building, with what felt like a hundred cameras around them. Fine, there were only four cameras. It was just that they all kept making that clicking sound, making it feel like more.

She’d never exactly been a person who sought a spotlight, nor had she been afraid of one. But she’d never experienced anything like this before. This kind of spotlight felt more like when little kids would hold magnifying glasses to catch the sunlight, and it would get so concentrated on one tiny pinpoint that it started a fire.

She forced herself to look up and smile at Jamila, who was standing with the head of the community center at the entrance to the building. Jamila looked more excited than Olivia had ever seen her. She’d been over the moon when Olivia had called her about Max’s idea.

“Oh my God, I cannot wait to call my boss!” she’d said. “No, wait, sorry—I’m going to email my boss.”

Olivia grinned. It was great to be able to help Jamila this way.

“Email him and cc the board president!” Olivia had said.

“I will,” Jamila had said. “You’re coming, too, right?”

“Oh, well . . . I’m still deciding that,” she’d said. But that tone in Jamila’s voice had decided for her. Plus, she couldn’t let Max go to her place without her.

There was a flurry of handshakes when they got to the front door. When Olivia shook hands with Jamila, both of them could barely keep a straight face. Finally, they all walked together into the building and to the kitchen, where a group of volunteers—some regulars, some Max’s staff—were waiting for them.

“Thank you all for having me and my staff here today!” Max said in his booming senator voice. “We’re all so impressed with the important and necessary work you do here, and we’ve been really looking forward to helping out.”

Jamila handed Max an apron.

“We’re thrilled you’re here,” she said. “And we’re ready to put you to work!”

The whole room laughed, and Max rolled up his sleeves. Olivia saw two of the college-age women in the room look at each other and whisper. She didn’t blame them—if Jamila had been standing next to her, Olivia would have turned to her to whisper, “Holy shit, my boyfriend is hot, isn’t he?” Okay, she wouldn’t have actually done it, but she would have really wanted to.