"I'll bet she's spent more time on her knees than Esther Williams spent in the pool."
"Dolce, if you don't…"
"Oh, good, a martini," Dolce said, as a waiter approached with a tray. She took one, tossed it into Stone's face, returned the glass to the tray, and walked away.
The room was suddenly silent. Then Charlene's laugh cut through the quiet. "I don't believe you," she was saying to Eduardo, who, uncharacteristically, seemed to be laughing, too.
"Dinner is served!" the butler called out, and the guests began filtering toward the dining room.
Charlene came, took Stone by the arm, and turned him toward dinner.
"Let's get out of here," Stone said, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
"Are you kidding?" Charlene laughed, dragging him toward the dining room. "I wouldn't miss this dinner for anything!"
Chapter 48
There were SIXTEEN at dinner. Stone found himself near the center of the long, narrow table, on his hostess's left. Directly across from him was Dr. Lansing Drake, who had landed with Dolce on his right and Charlene on his left. Most men, Stone reflected, would have been delighted to find themselves bracketed by two such beautiful women, but Dr. Drake looked decidedly uncomfortable, and when Stone nodded to him, he looked at his plate, then up and down the table, as if seeking an escape route.
The woman to Stone's left seemed to be in her eighties and deaf, while the handsome and chilly Livia, to Stone's right, seemed disinclined to acknowledge his presence. Dolce, across the table, shot him long, hostile looks whenever his eyes wandered her way. Only Charlene seemed happy. She had drawn Eduardo, to her left, and between her large eyes and her beautiful breasts, she seemed to have him mesmerized.
"How long have you known that woman?" a deep, whiskey-scarred voice asked.
Stone jerked to attention. Livia had spoken to him. "Oh, we met only recently. This is the first time we've been out." That was, strictly speaking, the truth. They had done all sorts of things at home, but they had not been out.
"I would be careful, if I were you," Livia said. "She probably has a social disease."
"I beg your pardon?" Stone said, astonished that a hostess would say such a thing to her guest about his companion.
"More than likely, a fatal social disease," Livia said, ignoring his reaction.
"Mrs. Regenstein…"
"I detest that name; call me Livia."
"You detest your husbands name?"
"And my husband, as well."
"Then why are you married to him?"
"I find it convenient; I have for more than twenty years. But enough about me; let's talk about you. What did you do to little Miss Bianchi that would invite a drink in the face?"
"My private life," Stone said, "unlike yours, is private."
"You're going to be a bore, aren't you?" she asked.
"You will probably think so."
"Who are you, anyway?"
"My name is Stone Barrington."
"Ah, yes, Louis has mentioned you. You're that disreputable lawyer from New York who was screwing Arrington Calder just before she married Vance, aren't you?"
Stone looked across the table, caught Charlene's eye and jerked his head toward the door. Then he turned to Livia Regenstein. "Goodbye, you miserable bitch," he said quietly, then he got up and walked out of the dining room. He waited a moment for Charlene to catch up, then led her toward the front door.
While Charlene was waiting for her wrap, and the valet was bringing Stone's car, Lou Regenstein caught up with them. "What's wrong, Stone? Why are you leaving?"