“Give her my best,” Lance said, then hung up.
Stone had started to look through his mail when the iPhone rang again, and he picked it up. “Hello?”
“Scramble,” Holly said.
“Scrambled.”
“I’m in town.”
“So I heard. Thanks for the advance notice.”
“I’m sorry, it was a last-minute decision. There was no time.”
“Are you sleeping here?”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Then your wish is granted. What time should I expect you?”
“Sixish?”
“Fine; alone or in company with others?”
“I’d love to see Dino and Viv.”
“I’m sure they’d love that, too. We’ll go someplace special.”
“Where?”
“That will be a surprise.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“Me, too.” They hung up, and Stone called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“Holly’s in town. Viv here?”
“Yes, and we’d love to.”
“The River Café at seven-thirty?”
“Done.”
They hung up, and Stone buzzed Joan.
“Yes, sir?”
“Table for four at the River Café, seven-thirty.”
“Yes, sir.” She hung up, then buzzed him almost immediately. “Not until eight o’clock,” she said.
“We’ll have a drink at the bar, then. Bye.”
* * *
—
Holly turned up at six sharp, but they didn’t make it to the bedroom. The sofa in Stone’s study did very well, with the door closed and locked to keep out curious staff.
When they were done, Holly sat on Stone’s lap and sipped her drink. “Where are we dining?”
“I told you, it’s a secret.”
She wiggled a bit. “Tell me.”
“You can go right on wiggling, but I shall not be moved, not even by something as much fun as that.”
“Oh, all right. I have to get dressed now, and fix my hair, but I don’t need to go upstairs for that.”
Stone got dressed while she used the powder room mirror to restore herself.
* * *
—
In the garage at seven, Stone handed her a blindfold. “Put this on.”
“You’re overdoing the secrecy,” she said.
“Nevertheless.”
She put on the blindfold. “There.”
“You know where, Fred,” Stone said. “Take the scenic route.”
Fred did his best to confuse Holly, and it worked until they got to a bridge.
“That noise is a bridge,” she said.
“The Brooklyn Bridge.”
“Then we’re dining in Brooklyn?”
“Good guess.”
They crossed the bridge and drove underneath it to the restaurant.
“Keep the blindfold on,” Stone said. He got her out of the car and took her down to the floating terrace, then removed it for her.
“Glorious!” she said, looking across the East River at downtown New York City, its lights just coming on. “And my favorite restaurant!”
He took her inside where Dino and Viv were waiting at the bar. Everyone hugged and kissed.
The headwaiter approached. “Mr. Barrington, your table is ready.”
They were seated by the big windows overlooking the river, then Holly waved at someone across the room.
“Who’s that?” Stone asked.
“My old deputy secretary, now acting secretary, Maclean McIntosh. I didn’t know they’d be here this weekend. I suspect they’ve come to visit his cousin, who has been under the weather.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I don’t think so. A woman named Vanessa Baker.”
“I saw her this morning. She’s recovering.”
“From what?”
Stone brought her up to date on the poisoning.
“I’m glad I’m retired,” Holly said, “or I’d have to be dealing with that in some way.”
“Don’t worry,” Stone said, “Lance is dealing with it.”
“I’m sure Mac will be relieved,” Holly said.
“How are they related?” Stone asked.
“Their mothers are sisters.”
“I saw her mother this morning, too.”
“You do get around, don’t you?” Holly said.
“I try.” Stone looked up to see Peter Grant come into the restaurant with a woman. They were accompanied by another couple, the male of which was Yevgeny Chekhov.
“Ah,” Holly said, “the odious Mr. Chekhov.”
“Well put,” Stone said, avoiding eye contact with them as they passed his table.
42
The group enjoyed themselves so much that they forgot about those around them. And when they left, Stone saw that Peter Grant’s table and the McIntoshes had both left without him noticing. Fred was waiting for them, as was Dino’s official SUV, and they were driven home.
* * *
—
The following morning, Stone and Holly, after making love and having breakfast, were watching MSNBC as a new poll among Democrats was announced. There were four other candidates, and Holly was leading all of them by at least ten points.
“How do you feel about the tracking polls?” Stone asked her.
“Like someone is looking over my shoulder. It amazes me that no one has discovered that I’m sleeping with you when I’m in New York.”
“How have you managed that?”
“By taking a small room at the Carlyle and putting a staffer there. Also, they park my Secret Service SUV there. There’s a little knot of press outside the hotel, waiting for me to come and go. All they see is an SUV with darkened windows drive in and out of the garage.”
“That’s clever.”