Chapters (73)
- Praise
- Praise
- Praise
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Acknowledgements
- Teaser chapter
“It’s on its way; I called from the airplane. The painters will work straight through the night, the furniture comes at eight A.M., and tomorrow evening we’ll turn our party into a housewarming.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“It’s black tie, right?”
“That’s what I put on the invitations.”
“How many acceptances?”
“Fifty couples, give or take.”
“Nice-sized group. Feed them well.”
“I thought Maine lobster, a bourride—that’s a garlicky French fish stew—and tenderloin of beef for the carnivores. Lots of other stuff, too.”
“Whatever you say, Callie.” They had reached the yacht, and Shames led the way aboard, followed by Juanito with the two briefcases. He had apparently brought no other luggage. “Let’s talk a minute, Stone,” Shames said, beckoning to him to follow.
Stone followed him to the owner’s cabin, the first time he had seen it. They walked into a large, gorgeously furnished sitting room. Juanito deposited the two briefcases on a big desk and left.
“What do you think of Toscana?” Shames asked.
“She’s a dream,” Stone replied. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”
“Neither has anybody else,” Shames laughed. “She’s my favorite thing. If I had to give up everything but one, I’d keep her.”
“I can understand that.”
“I wish we had time for a cruise out to the Bahamas this weekend, but I really do have to be on the Coast by Sunday night. We’re having another announcement shindig out there on Monday morning.”
“Just what is this new technology your company is going to make?” Stone asked.
“It consists of a circuitboard that replaces the modem in a computer, plus some extraordinary software we’re developing for both e-companies and users that gives every customer what very nearly amounts to a T-1 Internet connection over ordinary telephone lines, twenty-four hours a day, for a monthly fee of less than fifty dollars.”
Stone knew that a T-1 was the fastest Internet connection, and that it required a special phone line to be installed. “That’s very impressive,” he said.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already allocated your shares. Bill Eggers will buy them for you the day before the initial public offering.”
“Thank you, Thad. That’s very generous.”
“You’ll be tempted to sell them the first week, but don’t; hang on to them.”
“I’ll take your advice.”
Juanito appeared with two frosty gin and tonics. They touched glasses and drank.
“Now,” Shames said, “tell me about Liz.”
“I had lunch with her yesterday,” Stone replied. “She was apologetic about rushing away from Easthampton, but she had to come back here.”
“She lives here?”
“Here and in Houston. She’s a widow, not a divorcée.”
“How long?”
“Last year sometime. She seems excited about seeing you again.”
Shames grinned like a schoolboy. “That sounds good.”
“Thad, I have a lot else to tell you about Liz Harding,” Stone said, adopting a serious mien.