Shakeup

19

Stone was asleep for another hour before the phone rang again. He sat up, and Lara was gone from the other side of the bed. “Hello?”

“The president for you,” a woman said.

“Put her on.”

“Good morning!” Holly said brightly.

“Good morning. You sound chipper, did something good happen?”

“Yes, somebody checked my schedule and found out that I have to deliver a speech tomorrow at UCLA. I called Joan to see where you were, and she told me you’re already there.”

“What a coincidence!” Stone looked up to see Lara coming out of the bathroom — naked, as usual. He held a finger to his lips. “How about that?”

“I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” she said. “How about a swim, et cetera.”

“Certainly.”

“I’ll be next door, of course, in the presidential cottage, but we’ll find a way to manage that.”

“Yes, we will.”

“See you for lunch?”

“Of course.”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye.” He hung up.

“You look funny,” Lara said. “Who was that?”

“That,” Stone said, “is classified. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to move back to Santa Monica.”

“Oh, shoot. And I was enjoying myself so!”

“I was enjoying yourself, too, but this can’t be helped. This area is going to be off-limits in about an hour.”

“Hmmm. Sounds like you’ll be waltzing tonight.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I do that all the time. It works for me, usually.”

“Not this time. There’ll be a car here for you in half an hour. Why don’t you take the afternoon and do some apartment shopping? After all, you can afford something nicer, now.”

“What a good idea! Can I drop by later for a drink and a swim?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s off-limits.”

Stone shrugged. “Those are the breaks. Still, we’ve had a couple of pretty good days, haven’t we?”

Lara started toward him, but he held up a hand. “The maid will be here any moment.”

“Oh, yes, the sheets will need changing.”

“The whole house has to be made ready for an arriving group this evening.” A group of one, he thought, but what the hell?

“Got it,” she said, tossing her suitcase on the bed and opening it. She began emptying drawers and stuffing things into the case, while Stone headed for the shower. When he came out, she was gone, but there was a note on the dressing table mirror, drawn in lipstick. It’s been fun! it read. Stone found a box of tissues and went to work on it. He checked the dresser drawers and found a lacy bra in the top one. He stuffed it into the pocket of his robe and finished checking the room for remnants of Lara.

Clean, at last.

Stone’s phone rang. “Yes?”

“I’ll meet you in your pool in two minutes,” Holly said. “Don’t worry, I’ve ordered complete privacy.” She hung up.

Stone got into a bathing suit and a robe, grabbed a towel, and went downstairs. He could see a man on the front steps, hands behind him, facing away from the house. Stone paused, then realized he wasn’t going away. He opened the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the Secret Service agent said.

“Good morning.”

“Your guest is at the pool.”

“Thank you.” As he approached, he could see that the gate was closed, and one side of it was covered in canvas. He opened it and walked inside.

“Hello, sailor,” a voice said from the other end of the pool. Her robe and swimsuit were on a chair. He walked around the pool, dropped his own things, and dove in, with an intense feeling of déjà vu. He swam toward her under the water, appreciating the view as he approached.

Holly grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to the surface. “Hi, there.”

“Hi, yourself.”

They enjoyed a long kiss, then more of each other.

They were back in their suits and robes before lunch was served at poolside.

“This is all working very well, so far,” Holly said.

“Very smoothly, indeed,” Stone agreed. “I guess you’ve learned the drill.”

“I’ve established the drill,” she replied. “I figured out what it should be and required them to conform to it. I very nearly had to send the head of the Secret Service into retirement, but Bill Wright, now his deputy, took him aside and explained things to him, and he’s been quiet ever since. By the way, in New York, the ‘drill’ includes no Secret Service at your house, unless I’m actually there, then outside and in the garage only.”

“I like it,” Stone said, and he meant it.

“I rather thought you might. I’ve placed your house here off-limits to them, too, except for one man at the front door and another at the rear. There’s a platoon available, of course, should circumstances require. And they get to see the pool only to inspect it before I use it.”

“So, nobody’s going to open the gate?”

“Nope.”

Somebody opened the gate. “That’s lunch,” Stone said. “Ah.”

The cart was wheeled around the pool, and a waiter set the table, placed the food, and opened a bottle of wine.

Stone noticed a bulge in the small of the man’s back. Looked like a nine mm.

Soon they were alone to enjoy their lobster salad. “I’m afraid dinner tonight is out of the question,” she said. “An impromptu visit from the Japanese president.”

“Ah, well.”

“I’m yours until four o’clock, though, and I’ll do my best to make up for the lost time.”

“You’ve already done that,” Stone said.

“Then I’ll start building credit for the future.”