Стюарт Вудс - Shakeup

She read out the checklist to him, and he followed it meticulously. “The clearance is already loaded into the FMS,” Faith said, referring to the computer called the flight management system. Stone was given a takeoff clearance by the tower as he approached the runway; he didn’t even have to slow down to make the turn. He moved the throttles forward to the takeoff position and used the tiller to get the aircraft on the center line, then switched to the rudder pedals, when they had enough ground speed for the rudder to be effective. He rotated, and the airplane climbed. Stone performed the departure procedures, then turned over the controls to Faith and her copilot and resumed his seat in the cabin.

“Okay,” he said to Eggers. “We’re flying. What’s up?”

“Do you remember a man named Edgar Wheelis?” Bill asked.

“Vaguely,” Stone said.

“I’m going to wrap up negotiations with him for a piece of property in L.A., and I want you at the meeting.”

“Why?” Stone asked.

“Because Edgar is afraid of you.”

“Of me? Why?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care to know,” Eggers said. “All I know is that, if you’re at the meeting, I’ll get everything I want from Edgar.”

“I don’t recall ever having been used as a threat,” Stone said. “I’m just a mind-mannered attorney-at-law, with a winning way about him.”

“Especially winning , where Edgar is concerned,” Bill replied. Then he opened his Wall Street Journal and began to read, ignoring Stone.

Stone took a novel from his briefcase and read until lunch was served. Later, as they neared the landing at Burbank, Stone went forward and took the controls, hand-flying the arrivals procedures and the ILS, the instrument landing system. He needed to keep his hand in and his logbook up to date.

A Bentley, one of the fleet from the Arrington, met them at Burbank and drove them to the hotel. Eggers was dropped at the main entrance, then Stone was driven to his house, at the rear of the hotel property. He had negotiated the land sale for his late wife, who had inherited it from her first husband, the film star Vance Calder, who had included the building of the house for her in the contract. When she was murdered by a former lover, Stone had inherited it, along with a chunk of her estate. The bulk of the estate went to a trust for their son, Peter.

Stone left his suit to be pressed by the butler, stripped, got into a terrycloth robe, and walked down to the house’s pool, which was surrounded by a high hedge. He could hear splashing from the pool, which was odd, because it was private. Probably somebody’s dog having a swim, he thought.

He entered through the gate and immediately saw a two-piece swimsuit lying on a chaise.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said from the other end. “This is a private pool.”

“I’m aware of that,” Stone said pleasantly, “since it belongs to me.”

“Oh. Does that mean I’m the interloper here?”

“That’s too strong a term. Let’s just call you an unexpected guest. Do you mind if I join you?”

“All right, but I warn you, I’m naked.”

“That’s all right,” Stone said, “so am I.” He shucked off the robe and dived into the water.

Stone got a glimpse of a very nice body before he surfaced, a polite distance from her.

“I’m Lara Parks,” she said.

“And I’m Stone Barrington.”

“Are you in the film business?”

“On the edges of it, you might say. I’m an attorney. Are you in the film business?”

“I suppose you could say I’m on the edges, too. Heretofore, I’ve done only television.”

“But you have designs on feature films?”

She laughed. “Yes, I have designs.”

“Then I wish you luck.”

“One always needs a little luck. I have an appointment tomorrow with a director named Peter Barrington... Any relation?”

“Yes, he’s my son. And this hotel is named for his mother.”

“May I tell him I know you?”

“If you do, he will take that as knowledge of a wild affair between us. Anyway, you already have an appointment with him; that’s the hard part. All you have to do now is to show him you can act.”

“And how would I do that?”

“It’s called an audition, I believe.”

“He called it a reading. I think there will be other actors there, too.”

“Good, you won’t be all alone.”

“Any advice?”

“I’m in no position to advise you, but I’ll tell you a story that an old friend of mine, who was a producer and director, told me. He and the head of the studio had a meeting with a young actor who was very assertive, unlike most actors, who are nervous on such occasions. The studio head grilled him about the part and his interpretation, and he gave smart-ass answers. My friend suddenly realized that the actor wasn’t just chatting; he was acting the character he had been called in to audition for. He got the part.”

“That was very clever,” she said. “Risky, too. I wonder if I could pull that off?”

“I wonder, too, but I don’t know. It’s just something to consider, especially if the studio head is at the meeting. Directors are smarter about such things.”

“Now I don’t know what to do.”

“Study your lines and give them your best reading,” Stone said.

“Now that is good advice. You don’t look old enough to be Peter Barrington’s father.”

“That means either that Peter is younger than you think, or I’m older than I look. Either way, it was the right thing to say.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Is Lara Parks your real name, or did someone suggest it to you?”

“My parents are Swiss, and the name they gave me was Helga Glick. Everyone suggested I change it, so I made up Lara Parks.”

“Has anyone ever asked you if you’re related to Larry Parks?”

“No. I’ve never heard of him.”

“He was a talented actor in the forties and fifties, but he ran afoul of a congressional committee investigation into communism in the movie business... He was blacklisted, as a result, and didn’t work in films for several years, so the correct answer to that question, as well as the truthful one, is no.”

“I’ll google him, so I’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Stone looked at his Rolex. “I believe the sun is over the yardarm, as they say. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, I would. May I have a vodka and tonic, please?”

“Of course.” Stone swam to the other end of the pool, climbed out, put on his robe, picked up a phone, and ordered. Then he picked up Lara’s robe, took it to a ladder, and held it open for her, screening his view.

She climbed out and slipped into it. “Thank you for being so nice, but I’m not shy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stone replied, offering her a seat. The butler appeared with their drinks and left them to it.

“Have you ever been asked not to be shy when auditioning?”

“Yes. When that happens, I become shy. Have you ever noticed that the biggest female stars seem never to show so much as a nipple?”

“I have noticed that. There must be a reason.”

“I think the reasoning is: leave them wanting more.”

Stone laughed. “I expect that’s good advice.”

“I’m surprised that you haven’t made a pass at me.”

“Are you free for dinner this evening?”

“Yes.”

“Then come to my house at seven, and the cook will cook for us. I promise to be on my worst behavior.”

She laughed. “I’ll hold you to that. Now, I have to go. They’re sending a hairdresser over to do me up for tomorrow.”

“The studio?”

“Yes.”