Dearest Joe,

I know the world sees us as being on opposite sides of a very loud, very gold-plated fence, but when the cameras stop flashing and the rallies fall silent, it’s always you I’m thinking of.

They call you “Gigolo Joe”—a name whispered in scandals and splashed across headlines—but to me, you’re just the man who knows how to navigate a room (and a heart) better than anyone I’ve ever met. There’s a certain charm in your chaos that my world of high-rises and rigid schedules just doesn’t have.

While my father is busy building walls and making deals, I find myself wanting to break a few rules with you. You have that effortless, silver-tongued grace that reminds me there is more to life than polls and policy. You’re the ultimate wildcard, Joe, and I’ve always been a bit of a gambler.

Distance and last names might keep us apart for now, but in my mind, we’re far away from the marble lobbies and the political crossfire. We’re just two people who found a spark in the most unlikely of places.

Keep making them look at you, Joe. I know I am.

With all my affection,

Bianca