A hotel in Las Vegas, Tuesday evening

Of all the hotels in Las Vegas, the Republicans had to pick the one Isabel worked at to hold another one of their debates. It was too high profile an event for Isabel to have any major responsibility for it, but she still had to be there in case any of the senior event planners needed a gopher.

So far things had been going smoothly. At least if she ignored the smarmy RNC intern that tried to insist they were meant to have coffee together later that evening. Isabel's biggest problem was trying not to snicker as some of the answers the candidates gave to their questions. Those people were seriously crazy.

Tucked into a corner, she counted the hours until this nightmare was over.

[I had to. Open for calls & texts.]