Mia accepted another glass of soda water with lime and ice. As she waited for the candidate to come to her, she wondered if it was her blog or the articles she would write about him in the Guardian he thought more valuable to him. Probably both. Her three-year-old political blog, Voices in the Middle, had garnered over three hundred thousand readers to date and was growing daily. Her scope was usually national, not local, and her readers a pretty fair sampling of the country as a whole.

“Ms. Briscoe?”

Mia turned to see Mr. Lombardy, and beside him, the candidate. “Alex, this is Ms. Mia Briscoe of the Guardian.” Miles stepped back and nearly bowed as if Harrington were royalty.

She took in Mr. Alexander Talbot Harrington up close and personal. She had to admit he presented the complete package. He smiled down at her, not all that far since she was five feet nine in her stocking feet. With her three-inch stilettos, she looked him almost straight in the eye. She felt the force of his complete focus on her. Potent was the first word that popped to mind. Natural or learned? It didn’t matter, she had no doubt it would serve him well.

He took her hand, held it in a firm grip, and said in an intimate deep voice, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Briscoe. Thank you for coming tonight. I’ve followed you in the Guardian, of course, but your blog—I’ve got to say I admire your ability to present both sides of a question without prejudgment or bias for either side. No matter how divisive the question you pose, you always find ideas to bring the disparate sides together. That’s exactly what I hope to do in my campaign, and as mayor. As you know, holding on to solutions that make sense can be very hard to do.”

She wondered who’d done the research on her blog and given him a rundown. She was impressed.

Mia said with a smile, “Sometimes I have to hang on to sensible ideas by my fingertips because few who sit in the center say much; it’s always the two extremes who shout out their views, dominate the news. They never shut up. But I do say that in my blog, don’t I? Is that where you read it?”

He managed to wince and smile back at her at the same time. “Since it’s what I believe, too, does it matter? I know I’ll be experiencing much the same. But all those folks in the middle? Aren’t they our real strength?”

Mia responded to his smile, even knowing it was highly practiced, part of his shtick.

He leaned forward. “Do you get a lot of hate mail from the extremes?”