“Yeah. Who do you think is leaking to the press?”
“Could be anybody.”
“I guess so.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Dino hung up.
Stone turned his attention to the boxes in the front hall. A glance at the labels told him what they were. Shit, he had intended to cancel the clothes orders. How could they have gotten them here so fast? Furious at himself and annoyed by being called to the DA’s office for no apparent reason, he ripped through the day’s mail and nearly threw away an invitation, thinking it some sort of classy junk mail. It was for dinner on Saturday, at the apartment of Hiram Barker. That should be an interesting evening, he thought. He rang the number, got an answering machine, and accepted, adding that he would bring a date, if that was all right. Well, he thought, sighing, at least he’d be able to dress well for the occasion.
They were at Elaine’s, at a small table all the way in the back. It was a crowded night, as usual, and Lauren, the singer-piano player, was straining to be heard above the din.
“Want to go to dinner at Hi Barker’s on Saturday night?” he asked Cary.
She nearly choked on her scotch. “No kidding?”
“No kidding. The invitation came in today’s mail.”
“You’re really coming up in the world. Dinner at Barker’s is a hot ticket.”
“I interviewed him about Sasha, and he said come to dinner sometime. I thought it was just the usual chat.”
“I am definitely available,” she said. “Now, what am I going to wear?”
“I don’t have any problem about what to wear,” he said. “All that stuff we ordered came today. You know what you made me spend?”
She waved away his question. “My daddy always said, ‘Buy the things you want, and then figure out how to pay for them. Debt is a great motivator.’”
Stone laughed. “Well, I guess I’d better get motivated.”
“Come on, sweetheart, that’s what credit cards are for. How do you think everybody else in this town dresses?”
“I never did it that way. I never bought anything on a credit card that I couldn’t pay for at the end of the month.”
“A very stuffy attitude.”
“A very necessary one, when you’re on a cop’s salary.”
r /> “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
“About my salary?”
“About making a lot more money than you are. You’ve got a law degree, after all; why don’t you use it?”
“I never took the bar exam.”
“How about a-”
“I know, a cram course. You’re as bad as Elaine. She’s been at me about that.”
“She’s right. You’re a highly intelligent man, and a highly handsome one, too, I might add. That counts for more than you might think, and not just with women.”
“So, I could just quit the force and live on my looks?”
She laughed. “If it were up to me, you could. Does the practice of law repel you so much?”
“Look, I’m thirty-eight years old. I can’t just get in line at the big firms with this year’s grads and expect to get taken on. ‘So, Mr. Barrington, what have you been doing with yourself in the fifteen years between getting your law degree and passing the bar?’ ‘Oh, I’ve been arresting drug dealers and investigating murders and other sordid crimes.’ ‘Wonderful, that experience will stand you in good stead in our estate planning department. Will a hundred thousand a year be enough?’”
She laughed again. “There are other facets of the law besides estate planning, you know.”