Sex, Lies & Serious Money

33

Jinx Jameson appeared on Stone’s doorstep, fashionably after seven PM, clad in white trousers and a thin white blouse that gave him a glimpse of her breasts through the gauzy material.

Stone greeted her with a light kiss on the cheek and showed her into the house. The butler took their drink orders, hers a single-malt scotch, his a Knob Creek Rye.

The desert air outside had cooled and made a fire in the study a cheerful sight. Jinx tossed the wrap she had brought onto a nearby chair and accepted a seat on the sofa next to Stone before the fireplace. “How was your board meeting?” she asked.

“Interesting. Forgive me if I don’t supply details — those are confidential.”

“I assume the bomb was discussed.”

That brought Stone up short. “I beg your pardon?” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You are not the only board member with whom I am acquainted.”

“I assume you’re referring to Karen Miles,” he said, guessing wildly.

“That’s very astute of you.”

“And very foolish of her to mention it.”

“Confidentiality among women is sometimes defined more loosely than among men.”

“Then it was very loose of her. May I suggest that you not pass that information on to anyone else of any gender?”

“You may.”

“Consider it suggested.”

She took a deep draught of her scotch. “She scared the shit out of me. At first I thought the bomb might have been near my cottage.”

“It was not, and it was quickly discovered, disarmed, and removed. The person responsible was arrested nearby.”

“Karen didn’t bother to tell me all that.”

“I should have thought that, having breached the board’s rule of confidentiality, she would have been kind enough to put your mind at rest.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?”

“I suggest that, in the future, you not reveal anything to Ms. Miles that you would not like to see at the supermarket checkout counter.”

“Has she a history of that sort of indiscretion?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out. How well do you know her?”

“I met her at lunch with friends in New York a couple of months ago. I’ve seen her twice since, in similar settings.”

“It would be interesting to know if, after those three occasions, anything discussed there ended up in the tabloids.”

“Funny you should mention that. One of my friends at the last lunch, a well-known actress, confessed to me that she had decided to divorce her husband, a well-known actor. While that comment was not addressed to Karen, she was certainly within earshot. I heard from my friend the next day that she had gone grocery shopping and had seen her face on the cover of a tabloid. She accused her husband of the leak, and he denied it vehemently. Perhaps he was innocent.”

“Husbands are occasionally innocent,” Stone replied.

Jinx laughed. “I suppose they are.”

“How did you spend your afternoon?”

“Napping.”

“And are you now feeling refreshed?”

“I am.”

“So am I. I’ve felt that way since we met.”

“Perhaps the circumstances may have something to do with that feeling?”

“More than perhaps,” Stone said. “And your blouse reinforces the effect.”

She smiled. “I suppose that, when choosing my clothes for the evening, I thought that I had nothing more to hide from you.”

“A pleasant thought.”

“Or you to hide from me.”

“Touché.”

The butler brought canapés and set them on the coffee table in front of them.

“I suppose you’ll be working tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s my intention to supervise the erecting of my set by lunchtime, then spend the remainder of the day dressing it, then I’ll fly back to New York the following day. What are your plans?”

“I plan to visit my son, who is a film director based at Centurion Studios, and see how he’s doing.”

“Ah, that must be Peter Barrington.”

“It is.”

“I had been told he was the son of Vance Calder.”

“Stepson. His mother and I had a relationship before she and Vance were married.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “And she married him, knowing that she was carrying your child?”

“A few weeks passed before she knew.”

“And what did she do then?”

“Nothing, as far as I know.”

“She didn’t tell either of you?”

“No, though she thought that Vance came to suspect later on. Still, he and Peter had a good relationship.”

“And when did the two of you have that opportunity?”

“A few years ago. It worked out very well in the end.”

The butler refreshed their drinks.

“I’m sorry to be digging into your personal life.”

“I don’t mind. I’d like you to know me better, as I would like to know you.”

“What a nice thought.”

“And since you so immediately satisfied my curiosity, I’m happy to satisfy yours.”

“That was a mutual satisfaction, if you recall.”

“I’m happy you think of it that way. Oh, and I hope you like beef.”

“One of my favorite things.”

“Good. I’ve ordered chateaubriand for us. They do it very well here.”

“Oh, that kind of beef. Well, I like that, too.”

Stone laughed aloud.

The butler called them to dinner, at a table for two set in the study. Stone tasted the wine and pronounced it satisfactory.

“And what are we drinking tonight?” she asked.

“A Château Mouton Rothschild 1978.”

“My goodness!”

“Drinking better wines was something I started to do when I began to prosper.”

“What a good idea! When I began to prosper I began drinking wines with corks, instead of screw tops.”

“A good move up. By the way, since we’re both returning to New York the same day, may I give you a lift?”

“A lift in what?”

“I’m here in my own airplane.”

“What sort of an airplane?”

“A jet.”

“Well, I seem to be moving up in all sorts of ways.”