On Saturday, Sam led Ainsley to his office. "I think you'll enjoy this," he said with a smirk. "Despite your protests."

"Sam, when I said I played chess, I never meant to imply that-"

He nearly tumbled over her as she slammed to a stop, her body as stiff as a deer on high-alert. The President, seated behind the desk and dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, motioned toward Sam's chess board.

Ainsley-wide-eyed and slack-jawed-eased into the visitor's chair and, as Sam shut the door, he heard the President's voice: "So, Ms. Hayes, I hear you're quite the chess player."