“Gala, would you like to see the rest of the house? Perhaps Viv would show you around.”

“Love to,” Gala said, and the two women left, carrying their drinks.

“How was your flight?” Stone asked.

“Not as good as yours was,” Dino replied. “Even first class doesn’t cut it, compared to Stone Airlines.”

“It warms the cockles of my heart to hear you say so. I’ll be happy to give you a lift home.”

“Apart from the party for Ben, have you got business out here?”

“I’m being seated on the board of Centurion Studios tomorrow morning at ten AM, followed by a luncheon in the studio canteen.”

“What time is the party tomorrow night?”

“People are invited for drinks at six, followed by dinner. L.A. is an early town.”

“Suits me, I’ve got three hours of jet lag to deal with.” Dino peered closely at Stone. “You don’t seem to be thrilled by this board appointment.”

“I am appropriately thrilled,” Stone said, “but on the agenda for my first board meeting is the approval of a production deal between Gala’s ex-husband, one Boris Tirov, and Centurion. She’s uneasy about having him on the same lot—she just signed to write three scripts for the studio. I’m uneasy about it, too, and I’ve been trying to figure out how I can torpedo Tirov’s deal without appearing to.”

“Ah, I see you’re acquiring the habits of the denizens here, already plotting against somebody.”

“I’m not plotting against him, this is just business.”

“That’s what they always say just before they pull the trigger.”

“I haven’t shared my concerns with any other board members, though I spoke briefly with Leo Goldman after I saw the announcement of the deal in the New York Times today.”

“It’s already in the Times, and the board hasn’t approved it, yet?”

“I think that may count against Mr. Tirov. He’s making television appearances, too.”

“Maybe you won’t have to slip the knife in, then.”

“Maybe not, though I’ll do it if I have to.”

“Having had a look at Gala, I can see why. She’s a knockout, just as beautiful as her sister, and younger.”

“All that you say is true,” Stone replied,

The women returned, and they schmoozed until dinnertime.

5

On Monday morning, Stone had breakfast with his party, then hopped into an Arrington Bentley for the twenty-minute drive to Centurion Studios and his board meeting. Traffic was moving briskly at mid-morning as the car moved onto the freeway, and Stone settled in with the New York Times as the car motored smoothly along the route. Then it came to a full stop.

“What’s going on?” Stone asked the driver.