Chapters (64)
- Books by Stuart Woods
- Title Page
- Copyright
- CONTENTS
- 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
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be a good use of your time, either. Peter is very well advised on all fronts, and he doesn’t have much personal interest in finance, except with regard to film.”
“It sounds as if the Barrington men are impervious.”
“This Barrington certainly isn’t.”
She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Where do you suggest I look for an apartment?”
“If you’re into hip or cool or whatever the latest thing is these days, go downtown. If not, the Upper East Side might be more comfortable for you. How much space do you need?”
“Well, as a single girl, not so much, but as a businesswoman, quite a lot. I expect to do some entertaining.”
“I’ll give you the names of a couple of brokers when we meet again.”
“And when would that be?”
“It can’t come soon enough for me. How about tomorrow night?”
“Love to.”
“Come to dinner at my house, then. I’ll cook something for us.”
“Are you a good cook?”
“I am. I have a repertoire of three or four dishes, and I do those well. Beyond that I’m just a diner and a chooser of wines.” He slipped a card into her hand. “Seven o’clock?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“As will I.”
“You’re an interesting man, Stone.”
“How would you know that? We’ve just met—you know only that I’m widowed, have a son, and cook a few dishes.”
“I’m not without my sources. I also know that you’re a retired policeman, that you fly your own airplane, and that your mother was a well-known painter. I expect you know a good deal less about me.”
“You’re quite right. Until this afternoon I didn’t know you existed, and then I had to deal with some misinformation.”
“Misinformation?”
“From Dino, but I’m accustomed to that. However, what I’ve seen and heard impresses me and makes me want to know more.”
“Are you interested in investments, then?”
“Not very much.”
“Then what does interest you?”
“That remains to be seen, starting tomorrow evening.”
“How shall I dress?”
“Comfortably.”
The dinner came to an end, and Stone thanked his host and hostess. He had met Helen Hasker only in passing, but he liked her.
“May I give you a lift somewhere?” Stone asked Hank.
“I’m at the Waldorf,” she said.
“That’s on my way.”
They followed the Bacchettis down the hall to the elevators.
When the car came, the Bacchettis got on, then Dino raised a hand and said, “Take the next one,” and the door closed.
“Does he think we want to be alone?” Hank asked.
“I don’t think so. Something is going on that we’re not privy to.” The next car came, and they got on.
“Well, what will we do on the ride down?” she asked.