it called Orchid Beach, and I’m sure the concierge can get a copy for you.”
The butler entered the room and announced dinner, so they moved to a table that had been set for them.
They dined slowly, getting along well. As the dishes were taken away after dessert, Lara said, “I apologize for shouting at you. I had begun to think that I was the victim of a practical joke, what with my meeting tomorrow with your son.”
“Peter is not in on the joke, so I wouldn’t mention it to him.”
“All right, don’t rub it in.”
“If you’ll pardon me for reverting to my original intentions, that sounds like a very good idea,” Stone said.
“Yes, it does,” she replied.
14
Stone woke early, to the sound of the shower running. Lara appeared shortly with one towel wrapped around her and another around her head. “Do you have a hair dryer?” she asked.
“Cupboard under the sink,” he replied, and she vanished. While she dried her hair, he got shaved and showered.
“Breakfast?” he asked her.
“What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Two eggs over easy, bacon, English muffin, OJ, coffee,” she replied.
Stone called it in on the bathroom phone, then dried his own hair.
She reached over and undid the towel around his waist. “You look good naked,” she said.
He did the same for her. “You, too.”
“Quickie?”
“I don’t think we’ll be quick enough, with breakfast on the way. Rain check?”
“Sure, even if it’s not raining.”
They were propped up in bed in time for the arrival of breakfast. While they were eating, Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“Dad, it’s Peter. Lunch at the studio today?”
“You buying?”
Peter laughed. “You betcha.”
“Then we’re on.”
“Noon, at my bungalow,” he said.
“See you then.”
Stone turned to Lara. “What time is your appointment at Centurion?”
“Ten-thirty.”
“I’ll give you a lift, then. I’m having lunch with Peter after you’re done.”
“Thanks, but they’re sending a car for me at ten.”
They finished breakfast, and the butler took away the debris. “Where were we?” he asked.
“What time is it?”
“Eight-ten.”
She climbed on top of him. “I like being on top,” she said.
“I like you being on top,” he replied, rising to the occasion.
She did the rest.
* * *
—
Stone arrived at Peter’s bungalow at Centurion Studios at noon.
“Good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the receptionist said. “He’s in a meeting, be done shortly. Why don’t you have a seat in the garden?”
Stone strolled out back and took a chaise longue next to a fountain. The garden was soft and lovely, something new at the bungalow. He was about to doze off when voices woke him. He looked up to see Peter and his production partner, Ben Bacchetti, Dino’s son, walking into the garden with a young man and a young woman.
Stone and Peter hugged, then Stone and Ben.
“Dad,” Peter said, “this is Jeff Tatum and Lara Parks, the stars of our new film.”
Stone shook Jeff’s hand, then Lara’s. “Congratulations to both of you,” he said.
“Your father and I have met,” Lara said to Peter. “We’re neighbors at the Arrington.”
“Good. Dad, we’ve just invited these folks to dinner at our house,” Peter said. “Why don’t you join us?”
“What a good idea,” Stone said.
“Unfortunately, they both have plans for lunch, so say goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Stone said, winking at Lara.
She winked back, and they left.
“Don’t tell me,” Peter said.
“Tell you what?”
“Never mind.”
“Bad news,” Peter said. “Leo Goldman is on his deathbed.” Goldman was the chairman and CEO of Centurion.
“I’m sorry to hear it. Leo’s a good man.”
“Yes,” Peter said, “he is. We’re planning to visit him in the hospice after lunch. Would you like to come with us?”
“Yes, I’ve always liked Leo, and I liked his father before him.”
“I, as well. But Ben is going to make a better CEO. Can we get him elected?”
“Well, if we put together my shares, your trust’s shares, Ben’s shares, and Strategic Service’s shares, we’ll have a narrow majority, I think. Congratulations, Ben.”
Ben threw up his hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said. “Bad luck.”
“You make your own luck,” Stone said. “Both of you always have.”
Stone’s phone went off and he looked at it for the caller: Dino. “It’s your old man,” he said to Ben. “Excuse me for a moment. Hello, Dino.”
“Yeah. You, too.”
“I’m with your son and mine.”
“Great, do you . . .”
“Did you hear that Leo Goldman is in the twilight of his life?”
“Yeah? Does that mean . . .”
“It does. You won’t have to support Ben anymore.”
That got a big laugh from Ben, whose income was a dozen times that of his father’s.
“Shut up and listen,” Dino said.
“I’m listening.”
“Art Jacoby, the