36

Stone, Felicity, and Gala lay on his bed, spent, enjoying the afterglow. Gala’s phone rang, and she reached for it on the bedside table. “It’s Nathalie Dumont,” she said.

“Oh,” Felicity said, “put it on speaker.”

Gala did so. “Hello?”

“Gala? It’s Nathalie.” She sounded breathless. “How did you find me in Moscow?”

“Apparently, cell phones work everywhere these days. I read online that you had quite a dinner date.”

“Oh, God, did I!”

“And how did that go?”

“It was a combination of the best dinner and the best sex I’ve ever had!”

“Well, congratulations on both counts.”

“That is the most amazing man! He’s coming to the premiere of my movie tomorrow night as my date!”

“I’m sure the studio will be very happy about that.”

“I thought Howard Fine was going to have a stroke when I told him, and I’ve already had an enormous bouquet of roses from Marvin Milestone. He says this is something new in the history of Hollywood.”

“So, Howard Fine arranged your dinner?”

“He did. I don’t know how the man does it, and he’s what, seventy-five?”

“Could be. Howard has forgotten more than the young publicists know.”

“Oh, and I’m staying over a few days after the premiere so that I can visit Viktor’s dacha in the country.”

“I hope you have the stamina for it.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Gala. Oh, I’m a little sore here and there, but after tonight, I’m up for anything! I don’t want to go into much detail on a cell phone, but when I see you I’ll give you a blow by blow. Are you in Santa Fe?”

“No, I’m in the south of England, visiting a friend who has a country house here.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“It certainly is. I’d better let you go. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Exhilarated,” she replied. “Bye-bye.” She hung up.

“You didn’t tell her about Boris’s involvement,” Stone said.

“She was so excited, I didn’t want to ruin it for her. Let’s let Howard Fine take all the credit.”

“Now we’re back to square one, and Boris doesn’t have a mark on him.”

“You two will just have to think of something else,” Felicity said. “Preferably something that doesn’t involve me.”

“You’ve been very kind, Felicity,” Gala said.

“Yes, you have,” Stone echoed. “I won’t impose on your good nature any further.”

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it, mind you. A tidbit for my memoirs when I’m a very old lady.”

“What about the Official Secrets Act?”

“Then perhaps immediately after I die. I don’t believe the Act survives death.”

—

Stone was having breakfast in bed with Gala the following morning when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Lance.” Stone immediately tensed; a call from Lance was not always good news.

“Hello, Lance, how are you?”

“I’m quite well, thank you, considering the state of the world. That weighs heavily on my shoulders, but otherwise, I’m rather lighthearted.”

“I’m so glad.”

“I find I am going to be in your neighborhood today, and I’d love to see your house.”

“Of course. I’ll give you lunch.”

“Is one o’clock all right? I have to make one other stop.”

“That will be fine. Would you like to stay on a night or two?”

“What a nice invitation. Let me see what I can do with my schedule. See you at one.”

Stone hung up.

“That was odd,” Gala said.

“What was odd?”

“The tone of your voice—there was a wariness in it.”

“I hadn’t noticed, but I suppose I’m always a little wary where Lance Cabot is concerned.”

“The CIA head?”

“One and the same. He’s coming for lunch today and may stay the night.”

“Why are you wary of him?”

“Lance always has an agenda, usually hidden, sometimes more than one. I expect he wants more than to see the house.”

“Will I meet him?”

“Of course—you’ll join us for lunch.”

“I’ll excuse myself if it seems he wants to be alone with you.”

“That’s very discreet of you, and don’t worry, he’ll find a way to let you know.”