When my college crush, Talbot Richardson, was elected to the United States Senate, I bragged a little too loudly that I knew him. Oops. Did I really know the sexiest, slickest guy on campus? Not a chance in hell. Unless knowing someone is following them around campus to see which dorm they live in, and which class they have at 8 a.m. on Wednesdays.

Oh, and I might have stalked him in the dining hall, too. He liked grilled cheese.

Thanks to my big mouth, the paper I work for now expects me to do a story on him. Surely he’ll meet with me since we went to college together? Right? Logical assumption, except that he doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall. But I wasn’t about to blow my chance with the paper.

My gig writing obituaries was not exactly a fulfilling career, especially since I had student loans up to my eyeballs. I wanted more than obits - I wanted to report on real news, to prove myself, and even to work in the face of danger. A girl’s got to have dreams. I needed a break. A big one.

So, I was getting an interview with Talbot Richardson if it was the last thing I did, whether I had to beg, borrow, steal, or...even take my panties off.