Severe Clear (Stone Barrington 24)

“And they sprang for a suite?”

“You are obsessed with the idea of a suite, aren’t you?”

“I’m obsessed with the idea of not having one.”

“Well, now you have half a suite for as long as we can put up with each other. And to answer your question, I have discovered that having private means greatly augments the pleasures of reporting for peanuts.”

“A rich journalist? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“All it takes is selecting the right parents. It also helps that, when they are inevitably divorced, proper support for the issue of the marriage is cemented into the final agreement.”

“Which side of your parentage was the rich one?”

“Both of them.”

“You are just sounding luckier and luckier,” Kelli said, sighing. “Are you married?”

“Certainly not! My principles would not allow me to be in bed with you, if I were. How about you?”

“Nope. Of course, I’ve been living with a very nice man in a very nice New York apartment for a year, but he isn’t here, is he?”

“Nicely rationalized,” Hamish replied.

Kelli smiled. “It was, wasn’t it? Is there any more of the champagne?”

Hamish leaned over the side of the bed and came back with half a bottle and their two glasses. “There you are,” he said, pouring.

Kelli sipped. “Ah, yes, champagne. I can never seem to get enough of it.”

“There are two more bottles in my fridge,” Hamish said, “courtesy of the management.”

Kelli looked over by the windows. “What happened to your steamer trunk?”

“I unpacked it, and a bellman took it away for storage until my departure.”

“What do you travel with that you need a trunk?”

“Habitually, four suits, a dinner jacket, tails on some occasions, a blazer, two tweed jackets, a dozen shirts and a dozen each of socks and underwear, six pairs of shoes, two hats, a jewelry box, a toiletries case, and enough neckties to choke a very large horse. Also, depending on the weather at my destination, a trench coat or an overcoat or both.”

“That explains the trunk,” Kelli said.

“I believe it does. The simple truth is, you can take as much luggage as you wish, anywhere in the world, as long as you are prepared to pay a baggage overcharge or bribe a ticket agent—and tip well.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Kelli said. “I’m always just trying to jam my carry-on into the overhead bin.”

“Poor darling, you must learn to be more extravagant, you’d be much happier.”

“I must learn to earn enough to be extravagant,” she replied.

“That is entirely unnecessary,” Hamish replied. “You must simply do a better job of choosing men.”

“I hate to say it, but you have a point,” Kelli said. “Take my present beau: he’s handsome, charming, well educated, well housed, and well employed, but he’s not rich—not until he comes into his inheritance, anyway—and that might require a wait of some years or, perhaps, murder.”

“He does have most of the qualifications.”

“What else must he have?”

“A generosity of spirit and an absence of parsimony.”