by Stuart Woods
She pretended not to know about it. “It sounds beautiful,” she said. “I just love that sort of thing. You don’t need an assistant for the trip, do you?” she asked, trying to sound facetious.
“Oh, something might be arranged, if you play your cards right,” he said, leering a little.
She leaned forward to give him a better view of her cleavage, an act, she had discovered, that tended to concentrate the minds of men. “I’m a pretty good card player,” she said. “And I’ll pay my own airfare. You can deal with the hotel arrangements.”
“You’re serious, then?”
“I am.”
His eyebrows went up. “We’re staying at a small country inn near the house, and I think they’re pretty booked up.”
“I don’t mind sharing,” she said, “as long as I’m not in the stable.”
He shook his head. “Of course not. You can bunk with me, if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine.”
“Why don’t we have dinner before we go down there?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
“Tomorrow night? Eight o’clock at Park Avenue Winter?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Shall I pick you up?”
“I’ll meet you there,” she said. “You can see me home afterward.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said.
“So will I.”
44
S tone and his party took the big round table at the rear for their party of seven: Dino, Ben, Peter, Hattie, Hattie’s parents-Sean and Margaret Patrick-and Stone. He seated himself between the parents. The chat was immediately warm and friendly, and it was clear to Stone that he and Arrington would get along as well with Sean and Margaret as Peter and Hattie were getting along.
They covered all the usual ground: Sean had emigrated from Ireland as a twenty-one-year-old graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, and had gone to work for a stockbroker. He was in business for himself at thirty and was, judging from the size of his hedge fund, very wealthy. Margaret was an Irish-American music student when they met, and it was she who had taught Hattie all her early piano.
“You must be very proud of Hattie’s gifts,” Stone said to her.
“Oh, yes!” Margaret replied. “I’m sorry she doesn’t want to pursue a concert career, because that way I could follow her around and listen to her play all the time.”
“I’ve heard some of the music she’s composed for Peter’s film, and I was very impressed with it.”
“I understand your mother was a very fine painter,” she said.
“Yes, she was,” Stone replied, “and my father was an artist, too, but he expressed himself in wood. I hope you’ll come to my house soon and see some of his work.”
“We’d love to.”
“My wife, Arrington, is in Virginia at the moment, moving into a house she has just built. She asked me to invite the three of you to her housewarming next Saturday night. We’ll fly down on Friday afternoon in my airplane and return on Sunday afternoon or Monday morning, if you can take that much time.”
“What a delightful invitation!” Margaret said. She leaned forward and explained it to Sean.
“Sounds great!” Sean said.
“We’ll meet at Teterboro Airport, at Jet Aviation, at two p.m.,” Stone said, “and there’ll be room for everyone to stay in the house. The party on Saturday night is black tie, and the rest of the time is very casual. There are horses to ride, or tennis if you like.”
“We’ll all look forward to it,” she said.
“We’ll look forward to having you,” Stone replied, winking at Peter, who had hung on their every word. Peter beamed, and so did Hattie.
Dino leaned across the table. “Ben’s getting time off from school so he can come down, too. We’re flying down with Mike Freeman and Bill Eggers.”
“Perfect,” Stone called back. “I was getting short of seats in the Mustang. We’ve got one more, if Ben wants to ride with Peter and Hattie.”
Ben nodded.
“Just be at my house at one o’clock,” Stone said to the boy, “and don’t forget your tuxedo.”
The evening turned out to be a smashing success, and Stone felt that he and Arrington had made their first new friends.
On Monday afternoon Stone took Peter to the Ralph Lauren store on Madison and got him a tuxedo. It surprised him that the boy had moved up a size and from regular to long, and that the new size fit him perfectly. Stone found a tweed hacking jacket for himself in another department, and then they went downtown to a riding equipment store, where Stone bought riding boots, socks, and the tight-fitting pants that Arrington had requested. All their new gear would be delivered in time for their departure.
Kelli Keane woke early at David Rutledge’s loft downtown and crept out of bed so as not to wake him. She had been there since Saturday night. She tiptoed to the beautiful bathroom, with its twin sinks, shower, tub, and bidet in a space as large as the bedroom in her apartment. He had done a spectacular job of transforming the formerly industrial space into a large duplex apartment of more than six thousand square feet.
She was in the middle of her shower when David joined her, and she was tall enough that they could easily make love standing up. She had lost track of how many times they had done it-or something-since Saturday night. David had left very little room for expansion in her repertoire. She was getting the feeling that this one was a keeper, and she had not been previously acquainted with that feeling. Take it easy, she said to herself, and see how it goes.
She scrambled some eggs for them, and he ate them hungrily.
“You’re the first woman ever to spend a whole weekend in this apartment,” David said.
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
“I’ve only been in it for five weeks.”
“I still don’t believe it,” she said.
He laughed. “Next weekend really ought to be fun. Oh, and by the way, the boss has sprung for the company jet, so we won’t have to fly the airlines. It’s always a pain in the ass when you have half a dozen cases of photographic equipment, plus personal luggage.”
“That’s great news,” she said.
“A car will pick you up at seven Friday morning. That way, we’ll have most of the day to work and the following morning, as well.”
“Are we going to get an invitation to the big do on Saturday night?” she asked.
“We’ll just have to see if that happens,” he said, “but you might bring a suitable dress, just in case. It’s a dressy event.”
“I can do that,” she said.
“If you’re free this evening, I’ll cook us some dinner.”
“Oh, you cook, too? My God!”
“And bring your toothbrush,” he said, smiling.
At work, Kelli made a beeline to Prunella Wheaton’s office. Prunie poured her a cup of coffee. “I hear you had a very pleasant weekend,” she said knowingly.
“How did you know?”
“Sweetie, you’re going to have to get used to the idea that I know everything. No one can hide anything from me, if I really want to find out.”
“I believe you, Prunie,” Kelli said. “Yes, it was a wonderful weekend. That apartment!”
“Well, he trained as an architect,” she said, “and he does work at Architectural Digest, doesn’t he? He has to hold up his end, and the staff there always know where to find the most beautiful things.”
“I’ve never known a man with that kind of taste and style,” Kelli said. “You wouldn’t believe the state of most men’s living quarters these days.”
“I expect it’s not much worse than when I was your age,” Prunie said, “and it’s probably much better!”
45
A llison Wainwright came into Stone’s office and laid a small stack of papers on his desk. “We’re up to date on the financial reports from Strategic Services and Steele. These are the ones you need to see. Everything else is just boilerplate.”
&nb
sp; “Have a seat, Allison,” Stone said, picking up the papers. He scanned them quickly, then handed them back to her. “Good job,” he said. “That was exactly what I wanted you to do.”
“They’ll be easier to keep track of, now that we’re caught up,” she said.
There was a knock at the door and Stone looked up to see Herbie Fisher standing there. “Come in, Herbie,” he said. “I’d like you to meet my new associate. This is Allison Wainwright. Allison, this is Herbert Fisher, our client, and, incidentally, a law student.”
Herbie shook her hand. “Actually, Stone,” he said, “I’ve finished with school. Graduation won’t be until June, but I’ve completed the course work, and now all I have to do is bone up for the bar exam.”
Stone noted how Herbie was looking at Allison and how she was returning his gaze. “Have a seat, Herbie,” he said. “Excuse me for a moment. There’s something I have to do.” He left his desk and walked down to Joan’s office and sat down.
“Are you here for the reason I think you’re here?” she asked.
Stone nodded. “I thought I’d give them a moment to get acquainted.”
“I’m glad. Allison is very horny; she’s been complaining about it, and Herbie might be just the ticket for her.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Stone said. “What do you think of Allison?”
“I like her,” she said. “She sat right down and did that dirty job you gave her, and I never heard a peep of a complaint. I think she’s very smart, too.”
“Woodman amp; Weld wouldn’t have hired her if she hadn’t been both smart and highly qualified. The firm is among the two or three most desirable for graduates among all the New York firms.”
“Do we keep her, then?”
“I have the feeling she’ll move up pretty rapidly. Let’s keep her out of the Seagram Building for as long as we can.”
Joan smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.”
“Peter and I are going down to Virginia this weekend for Arrington’s housewarming, so scrub my calendar for Friday and Monday.”
“Will do. How did Peter’s Saturday date work out?”
“It worked out just fine, thanks. She’s smart as a whip, a terrific pianist, and he’s smitten.”
“Ah, young love.”
“Speaking of young love, I’d better get back in there, before Herbie and Allison end up on my sofa.”
“Go.”
Stone went back to his office and found Herbie and Allison talking rapidly and laughing. As he sat down his phone buzzed. “Bill Eggers for you,” Joan said.
“Why don’t you take Herbie to your office, Allison?” Stone said, then picked up the phone. “Morning, Bill.”
“Good morning, Stone. I just got an invitation to Arrington’s housewarming, and we’re planning to go. Mike Freeman has asked us to fly down with him on Friday, and we’ll come back Sunday afternoon.”
“Great. I’m glad you can make it. By the way, Bill, I’m impressed with Allison Wainwright. Thanks for sending her to me.”
“You’re welcome, but the reason she’s there is because of a contretemps with one of the partners, who shall remain nameless.”
“Let me guess: he made a pass at her?”
“Without confirming or denying that, you are very perceptive. He’s already looking for work elsewhere, and when he’s gone I’ll want her back.”
“Then you’ll have to fight me for her,” Stone said. “Joan likes her, too, and that’s not easy to come by.”
“We’ll see,” Eggers said, “and we’ll see you on Friday in Virginia. Arrington is putting us up, and Mike, too.”
“See you then.” Stone hung up as Herbie came back in.
“Allison is very nice,” he said.
“When’s the wedding?” Stone asked.
“Oh, come on, Stone. I’m not that bad.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” Stone replied.
Herbie turned red. “Well, we are having dinner this weekend.”
Stone laughed.
46
O n Friday morning Stone went down to his office, and Joan handed him a letter for Peter from the Yale School of Drama.
“I wanted to open it,” she said, “but I didn’t.”
Stone called Dino. “Did Ben get a letter from Yale this morning?”
“Yeah,” Dino said, “but I haven’t given it to him yet. Eduardo called, though, and said there would be good news today.”
“Peter got his today, too.”
Early Friday afternoon, Stone packed Peter and Ben and their luggage into the car and drove out to Teterboro. The Patrick family met them in the lounge at Jet Aviation, and they walked to the ramp just outside, where the Mustang awaited them. There was half an hour of stowing luggage and doing a preflight inspection, and Peter walked around the airplane with Stone, as he pointed out various items for inspection.
Stone settled the Patricks and Ben in the four rear seats, and put Peter in the copilot’s seat, then he closed the door, gave the group a briefing about seat belts, the emergency exit, and oxygen masks, buckled himself in, and started through his checklist. Peter followed him with the copilot’s copy, and Stone pointed out each item on the instrument panel as he checked it. Finally, Stone called the tower for his clearance, wrote it down, entered the route into the flight computer, and got permission to taxi to runway one. Stone talked Peter through the whole procedure, then, when they were cleared for takeoff, explained what was going to happen. He pushed the throttles all the way forward and started down the runway. A minute or so later, at two thousand feet, they were handed off to New York Departure and began their climb.
“I want to learn how to do this,” Peter said.
“When you’re a little older,” Stone replied. “In the meantime, you can read the flight and avionics manuals.”
“I want to learn now,” Peter said.
“You’re learning how to fly to Virginia now,” Stone replied. “In two or three years, you’ll be able to do it yourself. Learning to fly goes better when you have a reason to have an airplane. You’ll be at university, and you won’t need to fly anywhere for a while.”
“Oh, all right,” Peter said. “Can I talk on the radio?”
“Listen on the way down, and you can do the radio work on the way back. Radio procedure is an essential part of flying, and the key to it is to know what the controller is going to say next. Soon, we’ll get a clearance to a higher altitude, so you can expect that.”
The controller called and cleared them to their cruising altitude of thirty-four thousand feet, and Stone showed Peter how to change the altitude in the autopilot and start the climb.
“The autopilot really flies the airplane, doesn’t it,” Peter asked, “and you just tell it what to do?”
“Correct, but you also have to be able to do everything manually, if the autopilot fails for some reason.”
“Has it ever failed?”
“Not in this airplane, yet, but in my old airplane I once had a complete electrical failure and had to hand-fly it into Teterboro, using a handheld radio.”
“Wow,” Peter said.
“They don’t often let you do a visual approach at Teterboro,” Stone said. “They like everybody lined up on the instrument approach. I had to declare an emergency to get permission for a visual that day.”
An hour later they were descending into Charlottesville, and once on the ground they taxied to Arrington’s hangar, where the Gulfstream was kept. One of the pilots was waiting for them with a large van. He stowed their luggage and drove them to the house, forty minutes away, while a worker put the Mustang into the hangar with the G-III.
There was a buzz in the van when everyone saw the driveway, lined with a dozen huge oak trees on each side, and at the end, the house, perched on a little rise.
“This is very impressive,” Sean Patrick said.
“Most of these trees predate the original house,” Stone said. “Arrington bought three or four other mature trees and had them
moved here to fill in any gaps. They seem to have taken root successfully.”
Arrington met them on the front porch, and introductions were made. “The photographer and crew from Architectural Digest just left,” she said to Stone. “They seemed to get everything they wanted.” She led the party into the house and gave them a quick tour of the ground floor-a broad hallway that ran through the house, with twin staircases on either side; a big drawing room and the dining room to the right; to the left the library and the kitchen at the rear of the house. When that was done she led everyone upstairs and showed them to their rooms, while staff delivered the luggage. She let everyone know that drinks would be in the drawing room at six-thirty.
“We’re at the end of the south wing,” she said, taking Stone’s hand. She led him into the master suite, a sunny sitting room and bedroom, with a dressing room and bath on each side.
“It’s gorgeous,” Stone said, looking around. “You were right: the house looks as though it has always been here and we’ve always lived in it. Except for my empty dressing room.”
“That will get filled as time goes by,” she said.
“I’m sure it will,” Stone replied.
“Now,” she said, taking his hand and leading him toward the canopied bed, “we have two hours until drinks, and you’re going to be very busy.”
In a moment, they were naked in bed. “God, how I’ve missed you,” she said.
“I know exactly how you feel,” Stone said.
There was a knock on the door. “Mom?” Peter called, and tried to open it, but she had locked it.
“Later, Peter!” Arrington shouted back.
“The other houseguests have arrived,” Peter yelled.
“You’re appointed host. The butler will find them rooms.”
“How many bedrooms are there?” Stone asked.
“Ours, Peter’s, and five more,” she said, “but at the moment you may concern yourself only with this one.”
At six-thirty the whole group, including Mike Freeman, Bill Eggers and his wife, and Dino gathered in the large living room, and the butler, who was introduced as Somes, poured champagne for everyone, even the children.
