“I don’t know.”
“Sounds like Lance.”
“It is. You’ll have a signed copy of your contract soon, he says.”
“Why don’t I go with you?”
“I asked. He says no, and it’s his party.”
“Party?”
“So to speak. Make yourself at home in the house.”
“Can I sleep in your bed?”
“By all means. I’d like to think of you sleeping in my bed.”
“And in London, whose bed will you be sleeping in?” she asked archly.
“The Connaught Hotel’s bed. I don’t believe they supply sleeping partners.”
“Good. You won’t tell me what you’re going to be doing there?”
“I told you, I don’t know what I’m going to be doing there, and I may not be able to tell you, even after I find out.”
“I love all this cloak-and-dagger stuff,” she said.
“No, you don’t. You’d rather know what’s happening.”
“Well, that’s true, I guess.”
“I have to pack,” he said, going to his closet and taking down a carry-on suitcase.
“Can I watch?”
“Watch?”
“I want to see what you take.”
“Whatever turns you on.” He packed three changes of underwear, socks, and shirts, a couple of nightshirts, and folded a suit on top of it.
“No toiletries?”
Stone took down a small duffel from a shelf. “Already packed.”
“That was pretty simple.”
“I can go just about anywhere with a blazer and a blue suit.”
“What if you get a black-tie invitation?”
“If I think that might happen, I’ll take a dinner jacket, but that’s for a longer trip. Worse comes to worst, I can wear a black bow tie with the blue suit, or I can rent.”
“What are you taking for shoes?”
“A pair of black alligator loafers. They’ll work with anything.”