Stuart Woods - Dirt

“Uh-oh.”

“You said it.”

“How is this going to happen?”

“The old man swears it’s going to be straight up. We’re going to rent it from a corporation that owns it.”

“Doesn’t sound straight up to me,” Stone said.

“What? That we rent?”

“Dino, make sure it’s a corporation that already owns rental units, and that the rent is in line with the market.”

“That’s what the old man has in mind. The rent will be more than we pay now, but he’ll lay some cash on Mary Ann, to make up for it.”

“That sounds fairly clean. You’re going to need a checkable story that starts right from the beginning – how you find the agent, how you heard about the agent, a proper lease. It’s got to look like anybody could find this apartment, you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Tell Mary Ann to make sure her daddy understands, too.”

“What, you think the old guy doesn’t know something about hiding ownership?”

“This isn’t like holding a cement company, Dino; if the commission starts looking into this, it’s got to be airtight, and you be sure that neither the agent or the head of the corporation has a name that rhymes with a pasta.”

“Right, right.” Dino looked up and smiled. “Hey, look what’s coming in,” he said.

Stone turned to see Arrington enter the restaurant. “Not bad,” he said offhandedly.

“ Not bad ? You’re losing it. As it happens, I know this one.” He waved at Arrington, who waved back and started for the table. “Give us a few minutes, then get lost, okay?”

“Sure, Dino, whatever you say.”

Dino was on his feet, taking Arrington’s offered hand. “Long time no see,” he was saying. “This is my friend…”

Arrington let go of Dino’s hand, turned to Stone, and planted a large kiss on his lips. “We’ve met,” she said.

Stone held her chair while Dino stood, dumbfounded. “Sit down, Dino,” he said; then he leaned over and whispered, “Give us a few minutes, then get lost, okay?”

When Dino had left, Arrington pulled out a copy of the new Vanity Fair. “My first piece for them,” she said, opening the magazine. “It’s about the mayor’s wife.”

“That’s great, Arrington,” Stone said. “That has got to be a tough market for a writer to break into.”

“Not if you’re a good enough writer,” she said.

“Can I have this? I’d like to read it later.”

“Later you’re going to be busy,” she said, “but you can have it for tomorrow.”

Stone flipped through the pages of the magazine. “You know any models, by any chance?”

“I have a passing acquaintance with a few,” she replied.

Stone found the cologne ad. “How about this guy? Know him?”

Arrington looked at the ad, then back at Stone. Her face was suddenly expressionless. “Why did you have to do it this way?”

“What?” Stone was baffled.

“Why didn’t you just…” She turned away, and there were angry tears in her eyes.

“Arrington, I don’t understand,” Stone said. “I just wanted to know who this guy is. It’s a business thing.”

She turned back angrily. “You know who it is,” she said.

“I swear to you I don’t have the slightest idea.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“I am not. Arrington, what is going on?”

She pointed at the photograph. “That’s him,” she said.

“Who?”

“Jonathan.”

“Has he got a brother?” Stone asked. She was still looking very angry.

“No, he hasn’t,” she said. “What’s this about, Stone?”

“As you are aware, I saw Dick Hickock’s girlfriend, Tiffany, this morning. She called me because somebody was following her, somebody who, as it turns out, answers to this guy’s description. She showed me this ad.”

“She said Jonathan was following her?”

“No, she was emphatic that the guy was not the man in the photograph, he just looked very much like him.”

“Well, he doesn’t have a brother.”

“Okay, that answers my question. Shall we drop it?”

“I’m sorry I got so angry; I didn’t understand.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Stone, do you want to know about Jonathan?”

“Is there any reason why I should know about him?”

“No, not really.”

“Then I couldn’t care less. You , I care about; him, pfffft!”

She smiled. “That’s the kind of talk I like to hear.”

A waiter handed them menus. “I recommend the Caesar salad and the osso bucco,” Stone said.

“Sold; I’d like some wine, too.”

Stone turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the same as the lady, and bring us a bottle of the Dry Creek Merlot and two straws.”

Stone let them into the house and followed Arrington up the stairs. Halfway up she began undressing, dropping a trail of garments behind her, which Stone gathered up. “You want to shock my housekeeper? She’s a very proper Greek lady.”

“I’m sure it won’t be the first evidence she’s seen of a woman in the house,” Arrington replied, lobbing her bra over her shoulder.

“She doesn’t come in until ten A.M.”

“That may not be long enough.” She stepped out of her panties and kicked them backward.

Stone followed a very beautiful backside up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“I’m finished with my clothes,” she said, “let’s start on yours.” She began working on his buttons.

A moment later they were in bed, leaving a large pile of clothing at the foot.

“Do you know,” Stone said, kissing her, “this is the first time I’ve kissed you?”

“I never kiss until the third date,” she said. “And I never make love until…

Stone slid easily into her.

“…now,” she breathed.

Sunlight streamed into the rear windows of the house and across the bed. They lay in each other’s arms, sweating, breathing hard.

“I thought that went very well,” Arrington panted.

“All three times?” Stone asked.

“Don’t brag. Oh, all right, all three times.” She kissed him noisily on the ear. “I’m hungry; it’s your turn to make breakfast.”

“Eh?” he shouted, cupping a hand behind his ringing ear.

She got out of bed and headed for the kitchenette in the hall. “And turn on the Today show,” she called.

“Television? In the morning?”

“I never miss it.”

“The honeymoon’s over,” he grumbled, fumbling in a drawer for the remote control.

She came back with juice, muffins, and coffee.

“How’d you know what I wanted?” he asked.

“Easy. That’s all there is in your kitchenette.”

“Would you like me to lay in a stock of whatever you eat for breakfast?”

“This will do nicely,” she said, “as long as I can keep having you as well.”

Stone ate his muffin and gazed at the TV. “I don’t think I can make love to Bryant Gumbel,” he said. “But I might be able to manage something to Katie Couric.”

“I told you to stop bragging,” she giggled. “Now eat your muffin.”

“This muffin is not all I’m going to eat,” he replied.

“You never told me you were a sex maniac,” she said. “But it’s a nice surprise.”

The phone rang. Stone unconsciously reached for it. “Hello?”

“My name’s Bob,” a man’s voice said. “Dino said to call.”

“Right. I’ve got some work for you.”

“He gave me a couple addresses.”

“Why don’t you start here, and I’ll brief you on the others.”

“Okay, half an hour?”

Stone looked at Arrington, sitting cross-legged, naked, in his bed. “Make it an hour,” he said.