STONE WAS AWAKENED FROM A SOUND sleep by the doorbell. He rolled over, glancing at the clock—9:00 A.M. He picked up the phone and punched the intercom button. “Yes?”

“Mr. Barrington?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Joan Robertson, from Woodman and Weld. Bill Eggers sent me over to do some secretarial work for you.”

“Oh, yes, I’ll buzz you in. Wander around until you find the kitchen, and make yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.” He pressed the button that opened the front door.

He struggled out of bed, shaved, showered, and dressed, then ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. A woman with streaked blonde hair, trim, in her forties, sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

“Good morning,” she said. “Join me? I made a pot.”

He shook her hand. “Thanks, I will,” Stone said. He got a cup and sat down. “You look a lot like…what’s her name? The actress?”

“June Allyson?”

“That’s the one.”

“I get that all the time.”

“You even have that husky voice. Is she your mother?”

“Not unless my parents have been lying to me for the past forty-five years.”

“Did Bob tell you anything about what I need?”

“He said you needed a secretary, maybe for a few weeks. He also said that you should not get to like me too much, because he has no intention of letting you steal me.”

Stone laughed. The phone rang, and he went to the wall set and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Stone? It’s Sarah Buckminster.”

The English accent rang like a bell, and parts of Stone were ringing, too.

“You’re obviously an impostor,” he said. “The real Sarah Buckminster is in Tuscany, probably treading grapes for the new Chianti.”

“She was until yesterday.” Sarah laughed.

“Are you really back?”

“I am.”

“God, it’s been, what…”

“Six and a half years. How the hell are you?”

“I’m extremely well.”

“So am I. Buy me lunch?”

“You bet. The Four Seasons at one? We’ll celebrate.”

“We certainly will. See you then.”

“Bye.” Stone hung up and came back to the table. “Sorry about that,” he said to Joan. “An old friend has turned up unexpectedly.”

“You certainly sounded happy to hear from her,” Joan said.

“It showed, huh? I guess I am very happy to hear from her. Now, I was telling you about—” The doorbell rang. “Excuse me again.” He picked up the phone. “Yes?” He heard footsteps going down the front steps. “Hello?” He hung up and turned back to Joan. “Let me see who that is.”