“It is, indeed, though it smells a little of paint.”
“We apologize,” Callie said. “I understand you and Stone know each other.”
“We’re old friends,” Arrington said.
“Yes,” Stone echoed, wanting somehow to guide this conversation, if he could. “And how did you manage to get Arrington here so quickly, Callie?”
“We sent the airplane for her this morning,” Callie said sweetly.
“Twenty-four hours ago,” Arrington said, “who knew I’d be in Palm Beach tonight?”
“Yes,” Stone replied, casting a sharp glance at Callie. “Who knew?”
Callie suddenly seemed flustered. “Please excuse me, I have to welcome somebody,” she said. She had not even glanced at the door, but she made off in that direction.
“And how do you know Thad Shames?” Stone asked.
“Vance and I met him in Los Angeles early last year. Vance was an early investor in some of his companies. And how do you happen to be here, Stone?”
“I
’ve been doing some work for Thad, which involved coming to Palm Beach.”
“What sort of work?”
“I’m afraid it’s confidential.”
“Show me around the house, will you?” she said.
“We’ll explore together,” Stone said. “This is the first time I’ve been inside, except for the central hallway. I’m staying on the yacht, out back.”
“Then follow me,” Arrington said, taking his hand and starting out. She led him among handsome couples of various ages, beautifully dressed and coiffed. They walked across the central hall and into a large, two-story library, stocked with matched sets of books, some of them, apparently, quite old.
They found the dining room, which had been set up for a buffet, then climbed the central stairs to the second floor.
“Where are we going?” Stone asked.
“Just exploring,” Arrington replied, towing him along. “That must be the master suite,” she said, pointing at a large set of doors. They walked on farther. “Let’s see what a bedroom looks like,” she said, suddenly opening a door, tugging him inside and closing it behind her.
They were in a large, sumptuously furnished room with a huge, canopied bed, elaborate draperies and antique furniture. Stone saw a stack of luggage in a corner, and as they walked toward the windows, he saw the initials ACC stamped on the cases. “This is your room?” he asked.
“Oh, look, there’s the yacht,” she said, standing at the window. The moon was coming up and a streak of its light fell on the vessel. In the foreground, the gardens were lit with Japanese lanterns. She turned, took Stone’s face in her hands and kissed him again.
Stone felt her against him, the familiar curves of her body, the cool tips of her fingers against his skin, and he responded appropriately.
“Oh, I can feel you,” she whispered, moving her hips forward. She tugged at his bow tie, and it came undone.
Suddenly, Stone was uncomfortable, and he held her away. “I can’t do this,” he said, “not with the way things have been between us.”
“I’d like for things to be as they were,” she said.
“A lot has happened since then.”
“Most of it to me,” she said.
“I’m aware of that. But every time something happens to you, it seems to happen to me, too.”
“Poor baby,” she cooed.