Sex, Lies & Serious Money

46

Stone lay on his back and took deep breaths. Sweat poured off him, and his crotch was on fire.

“Are you up for another?” Hev asked.

“You were sent here to kill me, weren’t you?”

She laughed. “Killing you softly.”

“I don’t know where you get so much energy.”

“You inspire me, babe.”

“Hev, do you want to go to the big Strategic Services party tomorrow night?”

“Oh, I know about that.”

“Yes, but would you like to go with me?”

“Look, sweetie, that’s for management and big-time clients. I’m a worker bee, I don’t float in that pond. If Mike Freeman saw us there together he’d think we were both crazy.”

“I’m sorry, that never crossed my mind.”

“It’s flattering that you didn’t consider it, but take somebody else.”

“Okay.” He had no idea whom to take. He was in one of those dry spells between women.

Hev got dressed. “I’m finishing up today. I’ll show Joan how to arm the system, if you aren’t around.”

“Good idea. She’ll understand it the first time, and then she can explain it to me.”

Bob trotted in and hopped onto the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Stone said to him. “I know you’ve already had breakfast and your cookie.”

Bob denied everything.

“You lyin’ dog,” Stone muttered, and headed for the bathroom. He was relieved that Hev didn’t follow him into the shower; he needed a rest.

He shaved, and as he left the bedroom his phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Holly,” she said. Holly was an old friend — formerly army, then CIA, and now the President’s national security advisor.

“I seem to have a distant memory of someone by that name,” he said. They had agreed that she would make the calls, since she was usually too busy at the White House to take them.

“I’ve got a free chopper ride to New York tomorrow. You got a free evening?”

“Better than that, I’ve got a great party to go to. Bring a killer dress, it’s black tie.”

“That sounds like my kind of party. I should be in around midday.”

“Come straight to the house, and make yourself at home.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do that, sir.” She hung up. Holly never wasted a moment on the phone; she had been national security advisor to the President for nearly two years, and every moment counted.

Stone got dressed, then checked the guest bathroom and dressing room for signs of the previous woman. He found a lipstick and put it in his pocket.

Downstairs, Joan was occupied with her security lesson from Hev. He worked for a couple of hours, then Hev came into his office.

“I’m outta here,” she said, “and I won’t be back unless the equipment malfunctions, and I mean the security equipment, nothing personal.”

“You’re very kind,” Stone said, slipping the lipstick into her cleavage.

“Cleaning up after me, huh?”

“A friend called and is coming in from out of town.”

“Then you need a blank page to work on.” She kissed him lightly. “It’s been fun,” she said, “but we both know it’s over.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Law of the jungle — stay in your own tree. I learned that a long time ago.”

“That’s good advice, I guess.”

“Joan knows the equipment as well as I do,” she said.

“The security equipment, you mean.”

“That’s what I mean. Let me give you an overview — both your systems are now interconnected, and the cameras and the alarm share all the keypads. You can arm or disarm the system from any keypad. Arming it from upstairs in your bedroom turns on the whole house, but on the top floor not the motion detectors. Bob would have a field day with those, and you wouldn’t get any sleep. Everything is monitored by our East Side tech office, where the rent is cheaper than at headquarters. There’s always at least one guy sitting at a console, gazing at a bank of monitors, and if he gets an alarm, his system switches to the premises involved. He’ll call the house to see if it’s a false alarm. If he doesn’t get ahold of somebody with the cancellation code, he’ll call the cops. I suggest you change your security and cancellation codes. Your house number and your date of birth are too obvious. Joan knows how to do it.”

“I’ll see if I can think of another code I can remember.”

“What would you do without Joan?” she asked.

“Perish.”

“Right. Okay, sweetie, I’ll see you when I see you, if I see you at all.” She kissed him again, grabbed her toolbox, and fled the premises.

Joan came in. “Okay, you ready for some training?”

“No, I am not. I have to be in the mood for that sort of thing if I want to remember it.”

“Then let’s leave the codes as they are for the moment, otherwise you’ll light up this place like a Christmas tree the first time you try to arm the system.”

“Agreed. Oh, you’d better call Bob Cantor and tell him Strategic Services are running the thing now.”

“Already done. He was hurt a little, I think.”

“Can’t be helped. We can’t have strange people roaming the house at will, even if we are photographing them while they’re doing it.”

“When are they going to invent a camera that shoots intruders with something more serious than a lens?” Joan asked.

“They probably already have, but that would rob you of the pleasure of killing strangers and messing up the rugs.”

“Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.”

“By the way, Holly Barker is choppering in tomorrow around midday. If I’m not here, please see that she gets settled and that Helene gives her lunch.”

“I keep hoping she’ll come and stay,” Joan sighed.

“Not while she can pretend she’s President of the United States. I can’t compete with that kind of fun.”

“I guess not. Still, I worry about her working too hard.”

“You can mention that to her when she gets in, but don’t expect her to take you seriously. She thrives on overwork.”

“I’ve never understood people like that,” Joan said.

“Who does? They’re a breed unto themselves. Still, I’d rather have Holly keeping an unblinking eye on the world more than anybody else I know.”

“Me too.”