October
It was the kind of place, in the kind of area, where a couple of celebrities could have coffee and expect everyone to keep their cool. Maybe a surreptitious phone shot, as long as it was discreet. Still, people were bound to at least notice when Julian Gault walked into their coffee shop.
He swept off his sunglasses, adjusted the satchel on his shoulder, and crossed the room looking only at the man whose window-side table he was about to join.
“Oh,” someone whispered as he walked by, “that must be Rafi over there.”
Julian lifted his lip a bit. Mistaking Carlos for Rafi was like taking pyrite for gold. The thought spurred him to raise his voice a bit more than he would have, as he approached the table.
“Carlos! Fancy meeting you here.”
Carlos looked up from the picked-over rem
