Holly came back from her dressing room, ready for work. Stone was still in bed, reading the papers.
“I’ve gotta run,” she said. “Do you want to come over this afternoon and see my splendid new offices?”
“I’d love to,” Stone replied, “but you’ll be far too busy for that, and I have to get back to New York.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I know, but you can come and see me.”
“Don’t count on it until after the inauguration,” she said. “I should have everything in better shape after that.” Her cell phone rang. “Hello? . . . Good morning, I’m just leaving the house. . . . Oh, yes, I saw it. I’m canceling my subscription to the Debater—I didn’t even know I had one. We’ll deal with it when I get there. Goodbye.” She hung up. “That was my public affairs officer, warning me of my new tabloid fame.” She kissed him.
“Take it easy.”
“You, too, and if the phone rings, don’t answer it. If I need to reach you I’ll call you on your cell.”
“Got it.” They kissed, and she departed.
—
Stone landed the Citation at Teterboro Airport shortly before noon, and his man, Fred, was there with the car to greet him. Stone locked down the airplane and gave the engine and pitot covers to the lineman to be installed, then got into the car. There was a stack of newspapers on the seat next to him.
“Some reading matter for you, sir,” Fred said.
“Oh, thanks.” Two tabloids with the same photo he’d seen in the Debater. “I didn’t know you frequented supermarkets, Fred.”
“Helene does.” Helene was Stone’s Greek housekeeper and cook and Fred’s companion. “Joan has been fielding phone calls on that subject all morning.”
“Swell,” Stone replied, and picked up the Times, trusting that he would not see his photograph in those pages. He was wrong. The headline read:
PRESIDENT MAKES NEW APPOINTMENTS
And his photograph was there among the others. The first was: “Holly Barker, formerly national security advisor, has been sworn in as the new secretary of state.”
The next to last, with a pretty good photograph, was: “President Lee and the First Gentleman have appointed Stone Barrington, a New York attorney with the firm of Woodman & Weld, as their personal attorney, upon the retirement of his predecessor.” He should have anticipated that, but he had not.
—
Fred garaged the car and took Stone’s luggage upstairs while he went to his office.
“Good morning, superstar,” Joan sang out.
“Don’t start.”
“What, has this newfound fame gone to your head?”
“It may be newfound, but it had better not be fame—I’m not up for that.”
“I think that henceforth, when your name is mentioned, it will include not only ‘New York attorney’ but ‘paramour of the secretary of state.’”
He emptied his briefcase and handed the contents to her. “Scan these into the appropriate folders, please, and label the tape with the Lee names and lock it away.”
“Certainly. Oh, I almost forgot, here are your phone messages.” She handed him a thick envelope.
Stone sat down at his desk and opened the envelope. All the messages but one were from various media sources. The other one was from Dino Bacchetti, his old partner from when he was a cop; Dino was now police commissioner. He handed Joan the media’s messages. “Handle these, and don’t put any of them through in the future.” He called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“Good morning,” Stone said.
“Ah, the secretary of state’s new hunk.”
“Don’t start.”
“And how is Holly?”
“Diplomatic.”
“And the Lees?”
“Presidential.”
“Anything new down there?”
“I met Kate’s son from her first marriage, Peter.”
“I don’t think I knew about him.”
“Fathered by Simon Rule, formerly CIA bigwig, now deceased.”
“That’s convenient. What’s the kid like?”
“Rich, from his father’s estate, sort of a sandy-haired version of JFK Junior. He’s just gotten engaged to Senator Saltonstall’s daughter, Celeste. I think he’s been flying under the radar so far, but sometime soon you’ll start seeing his name in the paper, probably in conjunction with wedding bells.”
“Sounds like he has political aspirations.”
“If you were the only American ever who had two presidents for parents—or stepparent, in Will’s case—wouldn’t you have political aspirations?”
“I suppose it would be a waste of genetic material not to. Is he running for something in particular?”
“Junior senator from New York in the half-term elections. I expect him to be well financed.”
“Yeah, the one percent will be falling all over him.”
“He’s been working for Saltonstall for the last four years. Holly says he’s had face time with every elected official in New York State, from the governor right down to dogcatcher level, and most of them owe him favors.”
“His mother’s son.”
“You know it.”
“You free for dinner tonight? Just you and me—Viv’s traveling on business, as usual.”
“I’ll think of an excuse to be available.”
“Patroon at seven?”
“Done.”
As he hung up the phone, it rang.
“Yes?”
Joan’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “There’s a lady here from Just Folks magazine.” There was awe in her voice.
“Tell her I’m in a meeting until early next year.”
“That’s not going to work, she caught a glimpse of you through your open door before I could body block her.”
“Okay, send her in and I’ll boot her out myself.”
“Her name is Gloria Parsons.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“She gets around. Here she comes. Ms. Parsons, Mr. Barrington can see you for just a minute.”
Before Stone could hang up the phone a woman stood in his doorway.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Barrington, I’m Gloria Parsons.”
Stone reckoned she was six feet tall in her bare feet—not to mention slim, beautifully dressed, high-breasted, and toothy. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time at the . . .” But she was seated on his sofa before he could finish the sentence, “. . . moment.”
“Why don’t you just talk to me, instead of returning all those phone calls you got this morning?”
“How’d you . . .”
“Three of them were from me.”
“. . . know?”
“Look at it this way—give Just Folks an exclusive interview, and then you can wave off all the others by telling them that.”
She had already produced a pad and a gold pen. “Let’s get some basics,” she said.
Stone took a chair next to the sofa. “If you’re any good, you’ve already got the basics,” he said.
She rewarded him with a big smile. “You know me too well.”