Stone realized that the man was already drunk. “You never had a deal at Centurion,” he said, “but if I had been at the meeting, I would have done what I could to see that it didn’t happen.”

Tirov threw his drink in Stone’s face, momentarily blinding him, and swung with a wide left at his head.

Stone barely had time to see it coming, but he took a step backward toward the pool, coming close to stepping into the water. Tirov’s momentum took him straight into the pool, making a huge splash.

Stone looked up to see Billy Barnett moving toward him, followed closely by the two hotel security guards. He looked back toward Tirov, who was flailing in the water. Stone wondered if the man could swim. He saw a life ring with a length of rope hanging on a post a few feet away, and he retrieved it and tossed it to Tirov. He certainly wasn’t going in after him.

“Let security take care of it,” he said to Billy, taking his arm and steering him back toward the party.

“We’ve got this, Mr. Barrington,” one of the guards said.

“Take him out past the guesthouse and around to wherever he parked his car,” Stone said, handing the man the end of the rope. “If you think he’s too drunk, drive him home.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

Stone took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his face and clothes. It wasn’t bad enough to require a change.

“Oh,” he said, turning to the guards. “Tell the front gate not to admit him to the grounds again, on my authority, and tell the restaurant manager not to take any further reservations from him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stone and Billy returned to the party. Ben approached. “I saw that,” he said. “I’m going to bar the guy from the studio.”

“Leo’s already taken care of that,” Stone replied, “and he won’t be welcome at the Arrington, either. Did you include any press for the party?”

“A couple of film critics.”

“Then they will already have phoned their papers. You’d better get studio publicity to make some calls, and if they can’t kill the story, at least be sure they have the facts straight.”

“Good idea.” Ben reached for his cell.

Stone grabbed a new drink from a passing waiter.

“I’ve heard some nasty things about that guy,” Billy Barnett said. “You’d better watch yourself for a while.”

“I don’t think he’ll be a problem. He’s going to come off badly in the press over his lost Centurion deal, and I think he’ll want to lie low for a while.”

“The rumor is, he’s connected to the Russian mob,” Billy said.

“Oh, God, not those people again,” Stone said, groaning.