Criminal Mischief

8

Stone sat in the booth at Patroon and waited for the Bacchettis and Viv’s friend Kitty to arrive. God knew it was not his first blind date, but it had been a while, and he was a little nervous.

Then Viv walked through the door, and behind her, mostly concealed by Viv, was someone taller, with darker hair and a bare shoulder. That was all he could see.

He slid across his seat and stood up out of courtesy and for a better view. He took in a quick breath. Viv had moved in such a way as to reveal a tall, dark-haired woman in a low-cut, strapless dress and, probably, very high heels, since she was half a head taller than Viv, who wasn’t short.

“Stone,” Viv said, smiling gleefully, “I want you to meet Kitty Crosse.”

“With an e,” Kitty said, reaching out for Stone’s hand, giving him a glimpse of red nail polish that matched her lipstick.

Dino stood behind her, laughing at Stone’s reaction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kitty,” Stone managed to say. Her long fingers encircled his hand.

“Please have a seat.” Everybody did, then ordered drinks.

“A Moscow Mule,” Kitty said.

“I’ve forgotten what that is,” Stone said as the waiter wrote it down.

“Vodka, ginger beer, and lime juice,” Kitty said. “Maybe a couple of other things. I can’t remember.”

“The bartender will know,” Stone said.

“Viv tells me you’re an attorney,” Kitty said.

“For my sins. What about you?”

“I’m divorced.”

“For a living?”

“Divorce pays very well, if you do it right,” she replied.

“Who was your attorney?”

“Herbert Fisher — a partner of yours, I hear.”

“You were certainly in good hands,” Stone said, trying not to look down her cleavage.

“It’s all right,” she said.

“You read minds, do you?”

“I follow gazes. If I didn’t want you to admire my breasts, I wouldn’t have worn this dress.”

“That’s frank and forthright,” Stone said.

“Two of my better qualities, though some men are put off by them. The qualities, not my breasts.”

Viv spoke up, “Perhaps you two can arrange a private viewing, later.”

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Kitty said, while Stone quietly choked on his bourbon.

“I look forward to it,” he finally managed to say. He was saved by the arrival of the menus.

After dinner they made their way out of the restaurant.

“I have my car,” Stone said. “May I drive you home?”

“It’s early,” she said. “I understand you have a handsome house. May I see it?”

“You may,” Stone said, helping her into the Bentley.

“This is a beautiful car,” Kitty said, stroking the leather seat. “I’ve been thinking of buying something I can be chauffeured in. Do you recommend it?”

“I do, unreservedly. You can even order it armored — if your divorce was an unpleasant one. Home, Fred.”

“I have a dog named Fred,” Kitty said, quietly.

“Mine is named Bob,” Stone said.

“And where is he tonight?”

“Where he is every night, asleep by the fire.”

They pulled into the garage. “Now, I don’t have one of these,” Kitty said, looking around.

“Buy the house next door, or I’m sure there’s a good garage in your neighborhood that would be proud to have a Bentley as a tenant. They like parking them up front, where the other tenants can see them. An attempt to justify their prices, I expect.”

They got off the elevator and walked into the living room.

“How very nice,” Kitty said. “Viv didn’t overstate your virtues.”

“I don’t claim to be virtuous,” Stone said, showing her into the study.

“Living well is the best virtue,” Kitty said. “You seem to have mastered that.”

“I do the best I can,” Stone said, handing her the requested martini.

She followed his gaze. “I see I’m holding your attention,” she said.

“You certainly are.”

“I promised you a viewing, I believe.”

“You did, but I won’t hold you to it.”

She stood up, reached behind her, and pulled down the zipper. Her dress made a puddle at her feet. She was wearing only a thong now, and her shoes.

“I’m impressed,” Stone said.

Kitty sat down and crossed her legs. “I’d be worried about you if you weren’t. Do you sleep on this sofa?”

“There’s a master suite upstairs,” he said.

“Let’s have a look at that.” She picked up her dress, slung it over a shoulder, and followed him upstairs, then looked around. “Just the sort of thing I expected.” She handed him her dress. “Hang this somewhere, please.”

Stone relieved her of the garment and hung it in the dressing room. By the time he returned, the thong and her shoes had been dealt with, too.

“I promised Viv I’d tell her what you’re like in bed,” she said, working on his buttons.

Stone gave her every assistance.

Half an hour later, Kitty said, “I’ll give Viv a good report on you.”

“I’m flattered,” Stone replied.

She threw a leg over and mounted him. “Are you good for another round?” she asked.

“Let’s find out,” Stone said, as she slipped him inside her.

Stone next knew consciousness when the dumbwaiter bell went off.

“Are we under arrest?” Kitty asked sleepily.

“Not yet. That means that breakfast is on the way up.”

“When did you order breakfast?”

“Last night. I sent a note to the cook in the dumbwaiter.”

“How clever of you. About a lot of things,” she said.

“I just followed your lead,” he replied, “and I enjoyed where it went.”

“So did I,” she replied.

Stone set the breakfast aside and reengaged.