“I’m not aware that there are any, but there could be.”
“A girl likes to know what the competition will be like.”
“Competition?”
“The other women. But since you’re ignorant of these things, just tell me how Arrington is likely to dress.”
“Jesus, how would I know that?”
“Well, how did she dress for casual dinner parties when she was living with you?”
“For casual parties? Well, simply, but elegantly, I suppose.”
“You’re a gigantic help. I’ll just have to go middle of the road, I guess. Does she wear a lot of jewelry?”
“Not a lot, as I recall.”
“Yes, but she wasn’t married to Vance Calder then, was she?”
“Well, no.”
“Her jewelry box will be much better stocked by now. Did she get her figure back after the baby?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t seen her since the baby.”
“Well, she’s a Beverly Hills wife, now; I’ll assume the worst.”
“That she’s fat?”
“That’s she’s svelte and in top shape. What about her hair and nails?”
“She has hair and nails.”
“How much hair, dummy, and does she lacquer her nails?”
“About as much hair as you, last time I saw her; she kept her nails long, but she seemed to paint them only on special occasions.”
“Then they will be painted tonight,” Dolce said. “Excuse me a minute, will you?” She went out to the car and came back with a train case.
Stone couldn’t imagine where she had stored it in the car.
“There is a small trunk,” she said, reading his mind. “What time are we due there?”
“At seven.”
She glanced at her watch. “I’d better get started,” she said, heading up the stairs.
“It’s only five o’clock,” Stone said. “Wouldn’t you like a drink or something?”
“No time,” she said, disappearing up the stairs.
After a moment, he heard the tub running.
She came halfway back down the stairs. “You can have the bathroom at six-thirty,” she said. “I don’t want to see you up here before then.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“What?”