41
Stone took a cab uptown and presented himself at room 212 at The Pierre. Meg answered the door, put her arms around his waist, pressed herself against him, and consented to be kissed. “How are you?” she asked finally.
“Better than I was before I rang the bell,” Stone replied.
TOMMY CHANG had just turned on his computer and the cameras when he saw a man let into the room. Ms. Harmon greeted him very, very warmly, then she led him to the living room sofa, and he sat.
“KNOB CREEK, I presume,” Meg said, “and I had better presume correctly or call room service.”
“That will be just fine,” Stone said, and she poured one for him, then a vodka for herself. She sat beside him on the sofa, and they drank.
TOMMY FIGURED they would be having their drink, then going out. He fiddled with the sound and finally could overhear their conversation.
“I’VE MISSED YOU,” Meg said.
“I’ve missed you, too, and it’s only been twenty-four hours.”
“I have an overwhelming desire to fuck you,” Meg said, “but I’ve ordered dinner for us here, and I don’t want to be interrupted by a room service waiter.”
“WHOA!” Tommy said to himself. “This could get good.”
MEG UNZIPPED STONE’S TROUSERS, freed him, and buried her face in his lap.
TOMMY FELT that she was doing it to him; he couldn’t believe his luck.
STONE LAID his head back and enjoyed himself while Meg continued. Shortly, he climaxed, and she relented. She tucked him back into his trousers and zipped him up. “There,” she said.
“There, indeed,” Stone replied. “Now what can I do for you?”
“Well, since I came at the same time you did, just talk to me. After dinner, we’ll consider our options.”
Stone took a deep breath and tried to restore his heartbeat to its pre-fellatio condition. A large swig of bourbon helped. They finished their drinks, and she poured them both another. The doorbell rang, and she called out, “Come in!”
Tommy calmed himself. A waiter had appeared, pushing a cart, and he set it up by the windows. After that terrific first act, he was going to have to watch them eat dinner. He hadn’t expected a caller, he hadn’t expected the sex, and he hadn’t expected them to remain in the suite for dinner.
THE WAITER SERVED their first course of seared foie gras and said that he would return to serve their second course.
“How was your day?” Stone asked.
“Very good. Margo Goodale and I completed all the co-op forms, and my accountant faxed me three years of tax returns and my financial statement, and you, Dino, and Arthur sent over your letters of recommendation. I have to pay to have their detective service do a background check on me, which is supposed to be happening tomorrow.”
“That means a man will sit down at a computer and do a search for a criminal record, both federal and state. Have you committed any felonies or misdemeanors?”
“None.”
“Any DUIs?”
“None.”
“Any lawsuits against you active?”
“None.”
“Then he will so notify your board and collect his outrageous fee.”
“It certainly was outrageous, for so little effort.”
“Well, he had to pay for his computer and the software. Everybody has to make a living.”
“Sometimes I have to think that everybody has to make a living off me.”
“It’s what happens when you become suddenly wealthy in public. Everybody in the United States who reads the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, or any other newspaper subscribing to the Associated Press wire service now knows your approximate net worth, and a significant number of them are trying to figure out how to separate you from a portion of it by selling you some product or service. Another, hopefully smaller, number are trying to figure a way to swindle you out of some of it.”
TOMMY WAS GETTING bored. He considered going down there, letting himself into the room, and shooting both of them at the table, but then the waiter returned, removed some of their dishes, and set new ones before them. Also, it would be unprofessional to make that sort of mess. He’d rather the bodies were discovered the following morning, when the maid entered to clean the suite.
“I’VE HAD FIFTEEN or twenty e-mails trying to sell me a private jet,” Meg said.
“That’s something you should consider,” Stone replied. “You’ve already seen, flying with me, how convenient it is to have your own airplane at your disposal.”
“I have indeed,” she said. “What would your recommendation be?”
“Your first consideration should be how far you are likely to fly and how often. Will your work take you, say, to Europe or the Far East, or will you most often just fly between San Francisco and New York?”
“I don’t anticipate flying to the Far East, but I would like to travel in Europe.”
“Well, a Citation Latitude will get you to London or Paris from New York, or to Hawaii from San Francisco.”
“And how much does it cost?”
“Between fifteen and twenty million, I should think, depending on the equipment you choose.”
TOMMY WAS CONSIDERING shooting them again, but the waiter kept coming and going, and shooting him, too, seemed excessive. After all, he was being paid to shoot only one person.
THE WAITER TOOK the tray table away and put the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door. Meg took Stone by the hand and led him into the bedroom, where she proceeded to undress him.
TOMMY HAD BEEN prepared to go downstairs as soon as the waiter was out of the picture, but now they were in the bedroom, and he thought he might as well watch the sex. As she undressed him, he caught sight of a shoulder-holstered pistol. He wasn’t going into that room if the guy was armed.
SOON THEY were both naked and Meg led him to the bed and climbed on top of him. “Now,” she said, “let’s consider our options.”
TOMMY SIGHED and settled down to watch the sex. He was not disappointed with what he saw.
“IF YOU LIKE, I can recommend a consultant who will, for a fee, help you choose what you need in terms of speed, range, and accommodations.”