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breast panel of his plaid jacket. “I’m pretty good at what I do, if I can say so myself!”
    Amina gave him one of her sweetest smiles. “From what I know you’ve worked on some twenty campaigns and won two of them. Is that right?”
    There was a moment of pause as Mike’s eyes blinked rapidly. “My numbers are much better than that,” he finally sputtered. “I’ve worked on eighteen winning campaigns!”
    Amina laughed, knowing full well that she had purposely inverted his win results. “I’m sure they are,” she said.
    Mike pulled at his jacket, buttoning it closed around his beer belly. “I hope you’re not planning to get too comfortable in our little camp here. We can’t have a whole lot of fraternizing going on between our two teams,” he said as he shot Harper a look. “We wouldn’t want any secrets spilled.”
    Amina chuckled softly. “They say politics makes for strange bedfellows, Mr. Chamberlain. You never know what might happen.”
    He paused for a brief moment as he reflected on her comment. Then he spoke. “Well, I do hope that we can pit our candidates against each other in a debate at some point. Give the people a good show.”
    â€œYou mean provide an opportunity for the constituents here in Memphis to make a side-by-side comparison of both candidates so that they can make an informed decision and vote objectively?”
    The man hesitated for a brief moment. “Okay, that works, too,” Mike said. There was a feigned look of confusion on his face. He shot his best friend a glance and winked an eye.
    Moving behind the man Troy laughed. “Don’t let him fool you, Amina. He really is good at his job,” he teased, brushing his good friend aside. “But it does make me question if he’s as good as you are, since it would seem you know more about his résumé than he knows about yours.”
    Amina smiled. “He isn’t,” she said matter-of-factly.
    Mike tossed up his hands. “I take offense at that,” he said, looking from one to the other. When neither bothered to give him a glance he eased his way over to where Quentin and Harper were watching with interest, taking his own front-row seat.
    Troy met her gaze, clearly fascinated by her self-assurance. He nodded his head slowly, his eyes still locked tightly with hers. “You’re a highly organized political professional with exceptional research, writing, and analytical skills. You have multiple years of public service experience, working with government, nonprofits, and political candidates. You have a proven capacity to handle confidential and time-sensitive documents and materials; the ability to multitask and adapt to changing work priorities and environments; and you’re adept at communications with people from diverse cultural backgrounds and age groups.”
    â€œSomeone’s been doing his homework.”
    Troy grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “You were a political reporting specialist with Nielsen, Crosby, and Gross in Atlanta. You worked as a field manager for three high-profile senators and ran the campaigns of four governors and one other mayor. Plus, you hold some seriously impressive fund-raising records, as well as being licensed to practice law in three states. Those are some very successful accomplishments for someone so young, which indicates you’re a high-achiever with a strong work ethic.”
    Amina nodded. “Anything else?”
    â€œYour favorite color is lavender, daylilies are your favorite flower, and your favorite food is anything Italian. You enjoy quiet walks on the beach, soft jazz in front of a fireplace, Shakespearean sonnets, and you collect fine art, preferably figurative work. You also enjoy reading mysteries.”
    Amina’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
    â€œIf I didn’t know better, Troy Elliott, I’d think you might be a bit of