“Men see younger women for sex, whereas…” She stopped.
“Whereas…?”
“Well, all right, I did it for the sex, too, mostly.”
“Is sex in such short supply for you?”
“It’s not that; I mean, anybody can get laid. For some reason, I was feeling old, so I was vulnerable.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-one. Do you always ask women that?”
“Always.”
“Why? It’s supposed to be rude.”
“It’s not important to know how old a woman is, but it’s important to know if she’ll tell you. It’s a matter of character.”
“Do you know how old Amanda Dart is?”
Stone shrugged. He could feel the tops of his ears turning red.
“She’s fifty; I have it on the best authority.”
Stone was surprised, but not shocked. “Why are we talking about Amanda Dart?”
“Because you’re involved with her.”
“Am I?”
“I could tell at dinner that night; not from your behavior, from hers.”
“You were wrong; we weren’t involved, except professionally.”
“Liar.”
“Not until the next day. We spent that… together.”
She shrugged. “I can’t say that I blame you. After all, you had just broken up with somebody, and she is quite attractive.” She looked at him levelly. “Everybody’s entitled to a sex life.”
“You have me at a disadvantage; you know more about me than I about you.”
“All right,” she sighed, “his name is Jonathan. He’s one of those young men who seem to earn their living by… being charming and attractive.”
“You mean, he was paid?”
“Not exactly. Men like Jonathan don’t ask for money; they just seem always to be broke. I picked up a lot of tabs.”
“I’ve known women like that,” Stone said. “Still, it’s more embarrassing for a woman paying for a man.”
The phone rang; Arrington didn’t move. On the third ring, the answering machine kicked in.
“It’s Jonathan,” a disembodied voice said. “I want to see you. I want…”
She got up and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
Stone could no longer hear the young man’s voice.