I moused over his photo gallery and started clicking through. Drink in hand, I commandeered my usual position at Longshots: the overstuffed leather sofa in the back corner.
He had thick, dark curly hair and wore modern horn-rimmed glasses. You can’t make yourself that available.” But he’s so good-looking. It was dim but not too dark, and it was the one place in the bar that didn’t cast the kind of bad shadows that could add a week of sleepless nights plus another 20 years to my face.
Curiosity was one of the hallmarks of a good journalist.
As we waited for the coffee, our conversation began to wander from city hall to China.
He’d been fascinated with Asian culture and was hoping to travel to the outer edges of the Great Wall.