Стюарт Вудс - Class Act

“Here comes Tara,” Stone said. “Try to look cheerful and unconcerned.”

“Sure,” Dino said, pasting a wide smile on his face. Stone did the same.

Tara sat down. “What are you two so happy about?”

“Just happy to see you,” Stone said, working on keeping the smile in place.

“How nice,” she said doubtfully.

“Really,” Stone said. “Really glad to see you.”

“Stone was telling me he’s going to take a vacation,” Dino said.

Stone glared at him. “Is that your advice, Dino?”

“In the circumstances, why not?”

“What circumstances?” Tara asked.

“Stone is feeling a little crowded in New York.”

“Dino,” Stone said. “Please stop talking.”

Dino raised his hands in surrender.

“Where are you thinking of going, Stone?”

“Do you think you could take a week off from your work?” Stone asked. “Maybe two?”

“Well, my preseason shows ended today, and my supervisors have got the new patterns in hand, so there’s not really much for me to do for a while but complain. And I’m sure my people could do without that.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning,” Stone said. “Bring your passport, casual outdoor clothes, a sweater, some walking shoes, and a dress or three for the evenings.”

“How serious are the evenings?”

“From casual to black tie. You never know.”

“And I’m not supposed to ask where we’re going?”

“Right.”

“How about Viv and me?” Dino asked. “Can we come?”

“Sure, glad to have you.”

“Stone,” Tara said, “you mentioned you have an airplane. Is it big enough for four people and their luggage?”

“Yes,” Stone replied. “And a dog. I’m inviting Bob.”

“How many bags may I bring?” Tara asked.

“About one camel load.”

“Better make it two camel loads,” Dino said. “Viv will bring that much.”

“There’s room for that?” Tara asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dino said.

“Are we flying east or west?”

“Don’t ask,” Stone said.

“When will I know?”

“When we get there. You can bring a compass, if you’d like an early warning.”

A waiter brought a menu.

“Osso bucco,” Stone said.

“Me, too,” Tara echoed.

“Chicken paillard,” Dino said.

“And a bottle of the Pine Ridge cabernet,” Stone said, handing back the meus. The waiter fled.

“Do you ride?” Stone asked.

“Yes,” Tara said. “Shall I bring a saddle?”

“Just your habit and boots. I think we can find you a helmet.”

“How about a crop?”

“All right, but to be used only on the horse.”

“Will I have time to read?”

“Yes, but we have books at our disposal, if you don’t want to carry a book bag.”

“Anything else?”

“A raincoat. We can supply you with gum boots and an umbrella, should you need them.”

“So it rains where we’re going.”

“It rains almost everywhere,” Stone said. “We are not visiting a desert region. And stop trying to figure out where we’re going. It’s more fun this way.”

“Sounds like Ireland.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Stone held up a hand. “I shall have no further comment on geography,” he said.

Dinner came, and Tara asked no further questions.

At one point, when she opened her mouth to ask something, Stone raised a finger. “Ah, ah.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll shut up,” she said, pouting.

“You don’t have to shut up; just don’t ask travel questions. You already know more than you need to know.”

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Tara said.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get too interesting,” Dino replied.

Stone called his pilot, Faith. “Wheels up tomorrow at nine am, for Windward Hall. We’ll need a copilot and a stewardess.”

“Consider it done,” Faith said, then hung up.

“Windward Hall? Is that where we’re going?” Tara asked.

Stone put a finger to his lips, and she retreated.

“Sounds like the Bahamas to me,” Tara said to Dino.

Dino put a finger to his lips.

“When are you going to tell Viv about this?” she asked Dino.

“I already have,” he said, hitting send on a text.

Tara’s shoulders sagged. “I give up,” she said.

“Good,” Stone said. “You’ll enjoy the experience more that way.”

“Have you told Bob?”

“I’ll explain it to him when I get home.”

Stone picked up Tara at the appointed hour the following morning, and a half hour later, they were at Teterboro. Fred pulled the car into the Strategic Services hangar alongside the airplane, a Gulfstream 500, and linemen unloaded and stowed the luggage.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be able to get to my bags if I’ve forgotten a hairbrush or something,” Tara said.

“Of course you will,” Stone replied. “The baggage compartment is accessible from the rear cabin.” He escorted her aboard the airplane, showed her the layout, seated her, and turned her over to the stewardess, while he went forward. “Excuse me,” he said to Tara, “I have to go fly the airplane.”

“You didn’t tell me about that part,” Tara called after him.

“Stone likes to take off and land the airplane. Keeps his pilot’s skills sharp,” the stewardess said. She left Tara with coffee and pastries, then went to deal with Dino and Viv.

From the right seat, Faith read off the preflight checklist, while Stone set the switches and repeated the commands to her. He called the tower for permission to taxi and received clearance to runway one. He ran through the final checklist, then requested takeoff.

“Cleared for takeoff,” the woman in the tower said. Stone steered the aircraft onto the runway, using the tiller, then pushed the throttles all the way forward. The airplane began to roll. A moment later, he had enough airspeed for steerage with the rudder and used his feet to keep them on the center line, while Faith called out his speeds, “Seventy knots, one hundred knots,” then, “Rotate!”

Stone pulled steadily back on the yoke, and the airplane lifted off. A moment later he retracted the landing gear and flaps, then he switched on the autopilot, and that instrument flew the airplane through the departure procedure, turning northeast, along the north shore of Long Island. At that point, Stone gave the airplane back to Faith, her copilot joined her, and he returned to his seat with his guests.

“Okay, we’re off!” Tara said. “Now can I know where we’re going?”

“You won’t know until we arrive,” Stone said.

Tara looked out the window and saw the eastern tip of Long Island pass. “We’re out over the ocean!” she said.

“Right where we’re supposed to be,” Stone replied. “This might be a good time to brief you on the location of your life jacket and our life raft.”

“Why do we need those?” she asked.

“Just in case we get our feet wet.”

Tara pretended to faint.

Bob, who had boarded last, came to greet everybody.

“See, Bob’s not worried,” Stone said.

“He’s a dog,” Tara pointed out.

“And a very smart one,” Stone replied.

Bob settled into his travel bed across the aisle, and in a minute was sound asleep. “See?” Stone said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“How long is our flight?” Tara asked.

“We’ll have lunch aboard and we’ll be on the ground in time for dinner.”

“Sounds like Ireland,” she said, consulting a small compass she had brought along.

“Does it?” Stone picked up the Times , found the crossword and gave the rest to Tara. “Here,” he said, “improve your mind. There’s a piece about Ireland in the business section.”