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“I was just going through some things and you got caught up in it,” Madison tried to explain.
“I understand,” Stuart said, thinking back to Holly’s wedding. “In any event, I am glad to see that we can at least carry on a conversation.”
“So am I.” She paused while eyeing the handsome man who was checking her out, too.
“Do you want to ride together for a bit?” he asked.
“Sure,” she told him, welcoming the brief respite.
Stuart followed behind her, enjoying the view of her nice backside as she rode. “So what have you been up to lately?” Seemed like an easy enough way to get to know her, if she was open to it.
“Mostly work,” Madison said. “How about you?”
“Same thing—along with trying to keep up with my girls.”
“They’re seven, right?” She seemed to recall Holly telling her that.
“They act more like seventeen sometimes,” he said, chuckling. “They will be eight in June.”
“That’s nice.”
Stuart could tell that she meant it; though he got the feeling she didn’t have any kids. “I’ve been checking out your column and reviews when I’ve gotten the chance.”
“Oh, really?” She looked at him, as they were now riding parallel in an area designated solely for bikes.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Apart from being a writer, I’m an avid reader whenever time permits, which isn’t often enough. You have some thoughtful reviews and interesting observations in your column.”
“Thank you.” Madison found herself blushing. Most writers she knew were too full of themselves to be bothered with reading anything but their own work. “I try to keep my reviews real and the column energetic so it doesn’t put people to sleep.”
“I think you’ve succeeded.” Stuart grinned at her, wishing they had been able to compare notes sooner, but glad to see they were doing so now.
“I try my best.” She held back and let him take the lead as they reentered the narrower bicycle path. This was the perfect segue to ask him what she wanted to. “I’d like to interview you....”
He glanced over his shoulder. “For the magazine?”
“Yes, a feature story in which you can tell readers about your writing, home life, kids,” Madison said. “I’m sure it would be a hit for your fans and help new potential fans get to know you.”
Stuart could not deny that she had a point. It hadn’t been that long ago when no one was very much interested in his story. Least of all one of the hottest magazines in town. But that was then and this was now.
He did wonder about the timing, though. Had this just come up? Or had she been friendly all of a sudden as a way to butter him up for a damned interview?
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.”
Madison chuckled. “You’re probably right.” She sliced into her steak thoughtfully. “How long does it take you to write a novel?”
“It depends on how much of a handle I have on the plot and what else is going on at the time,” he explained. “But, in general, I’d say about four months.”
“Wow. That’s a pretty quick turnaround,” Madison said. “No wonder you’re so prolific.”
He shrugged. “I guess it’s easy when you don’t have much of a social life outside of your kids.”
“I’m sure they can be a handful at times, though adorable day in and day out.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Stuart said, dabbing a napkin at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t imagine what I’d ever do without them.”
Though Madison suspected this would be a difficult subject, she felt obligated to bring it up anyway. “I read about your ex-wife abandoning you and your daughters.”
“It’s true.” He knew it had made the local news at the time because of his celebrity. It hadn’t helped that his ex seemed perfectly willing to exploit the situation for financial gain and attention. “She met someone passing through and decided to run off with him and that was that.”
“Ouch!”
“Yeah, I know.” Stuart finished off his filet mignon, frowning. “Never saw it coming till it was too late to do a damned thing about it. But I did file for divorce as soon as possible.”
“I can’t say I blame you. For a woman to do such a thing—especially to her children—is unconscionable.”
“You’re right, it is,” he said. “But we’re managing to get by on our own. Her loss.”
Madison was inclined to agree now that she’d had a chance to talk to him. Still she wondered if his girls were really doing that well without a mother in their lives. Or had he been able to make up for her absence through his own love and devotion?
“It’s quite impressive that you’ve gone it alone these past years raising your daughters, yet you still managed to keep churning out bestsellers,” she said. “How have you done it?”
“You do what you have to do,” Stuart responded candidly. “As a father, I owe it to my daughters to let them know I will always be there for them no matter what. I also know that I have to keep up my career to provide for them and myself. It has been a juggling act at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way right now.”
Madison took that to mean he wasn’t interested in romance at this point in his life. Or was she simply implanting her own thoughts into his? “Maybe someday you’ll find another woman who can give you that balance in life and who can be a mother figure your daughters look up to.”
“That’s certainly possible,” he allowed. “I’m in no hurry, though. If it happens, it happens. If not, well, I won’t have to worry about yet another disappointment.”
