Excerpt:

   "It’s Ms. Santos, but please call me Julia," She blushed as her ire at Raul vanished as quickly as his Dodge Charger’s receding headlights. "And delighted you’re granting me this opportunity." She motioned to a wrought iron chair opposite her. "Please, won’t you sit down?"

    Vincent smiled; his teeth as white as his shirt. "Thank you, I do believe I will," he said as he snagged a chair from the table behind them and sat down.

    Julia watched him as he settled. His face was distinguished and well chiseled. He even has a Kirk Douglas chin. She sighed. He looks just the way a silent film star should look, Julia thought, feeling her heart throb. Surely he hasn’t had a face-lift. Should I ask? No, she thought I can’t ask him that. At least not yet, anyway. Even without that bit of information though, the interview itself will be great. My readers are going to love hearing his story, a girl can tell.

    He smiled again and said, "My dear, if I were only twenty years younger."

    Julia laughed. "You mean you’re not?"

    "I’m going to like you, I think," Vincent replied, gesturing for the bistro waiter to join them. "You are such a pretty little thing. And a man gets to appreciate beauty in his later years." His stare was frank but not intimidating, and Julia found herself blushing once again. "And you are interviewing me for...hum...let me see..." he contemplated for a second, then snapped his fingers, "Today’s Romantic Magazine. Am I correct?"

    "Guilty as charged," Julia agreed.

    "And do you like what you do?" Vincent asked.

    "Yes. Very much," She paused briefly as the waiter arrived and took their orders. "I’ve wanted to write for them since I was a teenager."

    "Not too long ago, then, I see."

    Julia blushed She misdirected his gaze by pulling out a stack of stenographer’s notebooks from a large orange canvas bag. She shifted in her patio seat. The chair was constructed out of the same black wrought iron as the café table and was as uncomfortable as sitting on a park bench. Mr. Cleburne, however, sat across from her perfectly relaxed, smiling as he sipped his drink. Julia felt her heart do an obscene little rumba.

    Julia wiped her sweaty palms on the skirt of her orange and white sundress, praying he wouldn’t notice her discomfiture.

    But of course he did notice, and he laughed good-naturedly at her as he sipped a Mai Tai from a tall glistening glass.

    "I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that you accepted my invitation," Julia said.