“I haven’t spoken to Arrington for months.” Not many months, he thought, but months.
“You’re not going to tell me, huh?”
He shrugged. “I’m a lawyer, Betty; some things have to remain…”
She patted his hand. “I understand. I operate under pretty much the same strictures. When you work for somebody like Vance, confidentiality is currency. If Vance suddenly clutched his chest and turned blue, half the town would be trying to hire me before the paramedics arrived. But if I talked out of turn about Vance…”
“I understand,” he said.
“Then we both understand.” She smiled. It was sowthing she did well.
“Will you give me some advice?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Should I actually do this part in the movie?”
She placed a hand on her chest. “Good God! If you don’t, Lou Regenstein will have a stroke. Mind you, he strokes very quietly: he’ll lift an eyebrow and you won’t ever get a dinner table in this town again.”
“So I’m stuck?”
She put her hand back on his cheek. “Don’t take it so hard, baby; it’s only fame and fortune. Most men would jump at the chance.” She lowered her voice. “And most men would have propositioned me by now.”
“You are bold, miss.”
“By this time tomorrow, any woman on the Centurion lot can be yours; I figure I’d better hurry.”
“I live near here.”
“Show me.”
Stone signed the check, and they left the bar and walked through the cool evening toward his suite. She put her hand in his, but neither of them said anything. Along with the scent of frangipani, there was anticipation in the air.
The suite was softly lighted, and she went straight to the bedroom, dropping articles of clothing along the way. A message envelope had been pushed under the door; Stone couldn’t think about that now. He dropped it on the bedside table and started working on his own buttons.
She was naked first. “Leave the lights on,” she said, stripping the bedcover and top sheet off the bed.
He followed instructions.
She stretched out on the bare bed and clasped he
r hands behind her neck. Her tan ran from top to bottom without interruption, something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in New York.
“Me first,” she said.
He started with her breasts and worked his way down. She kept her hands clasped behind her neck until he hit bottom, then her fingers were in his hair, pulling, while she made little noises.
After a while, it was his turn. It was worth the wait.
9
Stone woke slowly, at first disoriented in the strange room. The bed was a wreck, with covers everywhere, and he was alone. He stretched and thought about the night before, which was indeed a pleasant memory, then jumped as the phone rang. The bedside clock said six-thirty. He grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s Bill Eggers; why didn’t you call me last night? I was up half the night waiting.”
“Why, Bill, I didn’t know you cared.”