Sex, Lies & Serious Money

20

Stone Barrington put down the newspaper and called Laurence’s cell phone.

“Hello, Stone, how are you?”

“Very well, thanks, but I’m concerned about you.”

“We’re just fine. We saw the New York papers yesterday, and we flew up to Napa this morning. We’re at Auberge du Soleil, in Rutherford.”

“Very nice place. Are you being bothered?”

“Not while they don’t know where we are. I checked in under my middle name, Beresford. I don’t know how they could trace us here, we’re out in the country.”

“Just be ready for it.”

“Everything Dino had predicted has happened,” he said, “right up to their breaking into my father’s house in Palm Beach. We walked in to find the police there.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. How long are you staying in Rutherford?”

“Maybe three nights. I want to buy some wine while we’re here.”

“And what’s your itinerary after that?”

“Wherever the wind blows us.”

“All right, keep in touch.”

Laurence hung up. “Stone is concerned about us.”

“Sooner or later we’ll be right in the middle of it,” Theresa said.

“Maybe they’ll be tired of us by the time we get back.”

“I had a thought,” she said. “An old girlfriend of mine from college lives in Santa Fe. She’s always asking me to visit. Have you ever been there?”

“No, I haven’t seen a lot of the West. Sure, let’s go there from here.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

They spent the next two days touring the vineyards, and Laurence bought a dozen cases of wine for his cooler in New York. After the third night, they flew to Santa Fe, rented a car, and found Theresa’s friend’s house. “Her name is Becky Gardner. Her husband is Ted. He’s a writer.”

The house was off Tano Road, on the north side of the town, and it was roomy, comfortable, and had wonderful views of the Jemez Mountains. The Gardners were cordial, and their room was delightful.

“I’ve invited some people over for dinner tonight,” Becky said. “I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course,” Laurence said.

One of the dinner guests had brought a copy of People magazine and handed it to Laurence. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this yet.”

The magazine fell open to a spread of pictures, of himself and the New York apartment. “No, I haven’t seen this, but I’ve been expecting something like it.” He handed the magazine to Theresa. “Now I’m a national item, I guess.” The others passed it around.

“You look better without the beard,” a woman said.

“And harder to recognize,” her husband pointed out.

“What’s it like to become rich overnight?” someone asked.

“Extremely weird,” Laurence replied. “I managed to avoid the media, until they broke into my father’s house in Palm Beach and found my address in England, and from there, they traced me to New York, and so on. I don’t suppose they’ve followed me to Santa Fe yet. We’ll try to be gone before they do,” he said to his hostess.

“Don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you can. We’re off the beaten track out here.”

Back in New York, Butch Crane and Curly were reading People. “I guess I didn’t really understand who my sis had gotten involved with,” Butch said.

“We need to figure out a way to hit him again,” Curly said.

“Listen, we both did very well out of our little caper. Let’s cool it now. Anyway, the guy is getting to be family, and I don’t want to foul my own nest.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll foul it for you, and you won’t need to lift a hand,” Curly said.

“Listen to me, Curly,” Butch said, closing the magazine. “We’re going to leave the guy alone. In fact, there is no more ‘we.’ I don’t want to hear from you again.”

“You don’t want me for an enemy, Butch.”

“Curly, I don’t want you for anything. We each made a hundred and fifty grand, and that had better keep you out of my hair.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“Don’t make it necessary.” Butch got up and left Curly’s apartment and went back to his own. He was liking his new life, but he knew Curly would eventually find a way to screw it up for him; the guy was like that.

Laurence and Theresa were walking up Canyon Road, where most of Santa Fe’s art galleries were housed.

“I like it here,” Laurence said. “It’s a beautiful town in a beautiful part of the country. Would you like to live here?”

“Well, sure,” she said, “but please remember, I still have a job, and I’m going to have to get back to it soon.”

“Why don’t you leave the job and just hang with me?”

“Because I don’t know you well enough, nor you me, to make a long-term commitment.”

“Think of it as an experiment, not a commitment — that can come later, if it’s what we want.”

“Look, I’ve got more than a job, I’ve got a career, and I’ve invested a fair number of years building it. What would I do if you tired of me and just took off?”

“More likely, the other way around, but I’ll tell you what. If I should do that — or if you want to leave — I’ll give you a million dollars to tide you over while you’re thinking about a new career.”

“A pre-breakup agreement?”

“Even better, I’ll give you the million right now, and you can take off anytime you get tired of life with me.”

“I’d feel like a whore.”

“That’s nonsense. Have you felt that way at any time since we met?”

“Well, no, but I haven’t been paid.”

He turned her around and used her back for a desk, then tore out the check and handed it to her. “Here. Cash it, if and when you need it. Think of it as insurance.”

She looked at the check. “All right, I’ll think of it that way, and I’ll quit my job, but you have to quit your job, too. I’m not going to be an English schoolmaster’s lady friend.”

He laughed. “I’ll write to the headmaster today. I’m sure he’s heard all about me by now, anyway, and he probably wouldn’t want me back — too much notoriety for Eton.”

“Then you’ve got a deal,” she said, tucking the check into her bra. “And if you want to look at some houses, it’s okay with me.”

He stopped her in front of a real estate office and looked at the pictures in the window. “Pick something,” he said, “and we’ll make a start.”