Devon Vaughn Archer - Say It with Roses

Not that it mattered in the scheme of things. The reality was he saw this opportunity as a perfect icebreaker. And it would allow him to dig a bit into her life as well, beyond what he already knew, which wasn’t much.

“I’ll be happy to give you an interview,” Stuart told her with a smile.

“Wonderful.” Madison breathed a sigh of relief. “How about tomorrow at lunchtime?”

He waited a beat as if to consider his busy schedule. Since the girls would be at school and his writing time was quite flexible, there was no problem meeting then, but he didn’t want to seem overeager.

“Lunchtime sounds good,” he said.

“Are you familiar with the Beef Barn on Fifth Avenue?” she asked.

“Yes, I’ve been there a couple of times.”

“Great. I’ll meet you there at one.”

“It’s a date,” Stuart said.

* * *

After leaving Stuart, Madison rode home feeling as though she had pulled off a coup. He’d had every right to turn down the interview request, but he’d been surprisingly gracious. Perhaps he hadn’t given her earlier brush-off much thought after it had happened. She was grateful for that.

She phoned Giselle with the news. “We’re meeting tomorrow.”

“That was quick,” Giselle said.

“No time like the present,” Madison said lightly as she sat on a porch step.

“I couldn’t agree more. I’m sure it will be a nice piece on one of Portland’s most eligible bestselling authors.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Madison said.

“My pleasure,” Giselle told her. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Madison would remember that. But even without such encouragement from her boss, she felt she was more than up to the task of peering into Stuart’s life and his success as an author. As for the eligible part, she supposed she could broach that, too, if only to see how he dealt with that as a single dad.

* * *

The next morning, Madison picked out a nice navy dress for the interview. After debating whether or not to put up her hair, she opted to leave it down. It seemed to suit her best. Last night she had done a little research on Stuart over the internet to help prepare for the interview. His wife had left him four years ago so he had to raise their children alone. And, apparently, he had done just that, with no indication that he had been involved with anyone else.

On the professional front, he had gone from midlist to bestseller status less than a decade ago. Now he seemed to have the Midas touch as a mystery novelist, two of which had been adapted to the screen.

Definitely gives me something to work with, Madison thought, while driving to the restaurant. Now it’s up to me to see what else I can draw out that readers will find interesting.

Carrying her tablet, she walked into the restaurant at five minutes to one and immediately spotted Stuart in the waiting area.

He saw her, too, and walked up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she said, trying hard not to stare too much, but finding it hard to resist. He stood there in a nice button-down shirt and tailored pants that looked good on him. She detected pleasant-smelling cologne, as well. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Not at all,” Stuart assured her, giving her the once-over. She looked great in her body-contouring dress. He proffered his arm when the hostess appeared. “Shall we?”

Madison followed Stuart to a table near the window with a view of the river.

“Would either of you like anything to drink?” the hostess asked.

“Red wine for me,” Madison answered.

“I’ll have the same,” Stuart said.

They were handed menus and left to themselves.

After taking a glance at the offerings, Stuart turned his attention back to Madison. “So how do we do this? Multitask? Or get the bulk of the interview out of the way first and then eat?”

Madison smiled. “I think we can eat and talk, as I’m starved, if that’s fine with you.”

“More than fine,” he assured her, looking again at the menu and back to Madison. “What do you recommend?” He was curious to see what her taste was in food.

“Hmm...” She looked over the choices, sensing she was being tested. “How about filet mignon, mashed sweet potatoes and mixed vegetables?”

Stuart grinned at her across the table. “Sounds good to me.”

“Me, too,” she said.

They ordered as the wine came.

Madison saw that as an excellent opportunity to get started and take mental notes in lieu of her iPad for the moment. “So what made you want to become a writer?” she asked.

Stuart had been asked this question often enough, and his response was usually pretty much the same. “I don’t think there was ever a time when I wasn’t a writer to one degree or another,” he said over his wineglass. “I started writing stories as a boy and have never let up to this day.”

Madison smiled. “Well, it looks like you found your calling early in life.”

“I did. Of course, it took years to hone the craft and find the genre that worked best for me.”

She sipped her wine. “That would be the mystery-thriller genre?”

“Yes,” he said. “Before that I tried Western, science fiction and even mainstream before settling into thriller fiction.”

“So what do you feel is the key thing that makes you such a great thriller writer?” Madison asked curiously.

“Good question,” Stuart said, and thought about it. “I’d say the main thing has been reading lots of high-quality thriller fiction over the years to get a sense of what’s being published successfully. This gave me a pretty good idea of what to do and what not to do in the genre.”

“So you credit your contemporaries, at least in part, for your own success?”

“Yes, along with those who came before me,” he pointed out. “Writers such as Dashiell Hammett, Robert Ludlum and Mickey Spillane, among others, influenced my own writing of crime fiction.”

Madison took out her iPad and jotted this down. “You were inspired by some of the masters of mystery novels.”

“Exactly.”

“And now you’ve become a master in your own right.”

Stuart laughed. “Well, I’m not sure about that. I think I’ll probably always be a pupil of the genre. There’s room to grow for every writer.”

“And modest, too.” She smiled.

“Just calling it like I see it,” he insisted.

The food arrived and they both dug in.

“So what was it like to see two of your books go from print to the big screen?” Madison asked, taking a bite of mashed sweet potatoes. “I’m sure you must have been thrilled.”

“To be honest with you,” Stuart told her, “I didn’t think either movie quite hit the mark of the books.”

She arched a brow. “Really?”

He nodded. “When a 350-page book is turned into an hour-and-a-half movie, the integrity of the story is bound to suffer.” He sliced through the tender filet mignon. “But I understand the nature of the business called Hollywood and, as such, am thankful that someone thought enough of my books to want to make them into movies. My sister certainly loved them.”

Stuart remembered as soon as he mentioned Holly that it was a sore spot with Madison. “I didn’t mean—” he started.

“It’s all right,” Madison broke in. “I’m glad Holly enjoyed the movies.” The last thing she wanted at this point was for him to feel that the subject of his sister—or Anderson, for that matter—was totally off-limits. Especially when they were meeting in a professional capacity and it was she who had brought up the movies.

Stuart felt relieved that this hadn’t put a damper on the interview. “My guess is that she would’ve loved the movies even if they were total crap, because they were based on my novels.”