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“Will you be ready to go in half an hour?” she asked.
“I’m ready to go now, but my muffin isn’t.”
“The crew has the airplane ready. Thirty minutes.”
“I’m with you,” he said.
“Peter, I’m sending you ahead alone,” she said. “I have an appointment in Charlottesville, and it’s going to take the whole day. The airplane will come back for me.”
Peter shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
Arrington went back upstairs to close her cases. Everything was so good right now, except for this thing with Tim Rutledge. She would put an end to that over Christmas.
3
Stone spent the morning actually working. Since his elevation to full partnership at Woodman amp; Weld, and since his appointment to the boards of Strategic Services and Centurion Studios, he had been required to read-and even understand-every bit of financial paper sent to him by the law firm and by both companies, so that he could intelligently discuss them at meetings. Today, he and Mike Freeman, chairman and CEO of Strategic Services, who also served on the Centurion board, would be meeting Leo Goldman, Jr., the CEO of the studio appointed a year before, when Rick Barron, longtime head of the studio, retired and became merely chairman.
Stone had taken only one accounting course in college, and he thanked God that he had not slept through it. Soon he could read a balance sheet with the best of them.
He had a sandwich at his desk, anticipating the arrival of Arrington Calder and her son, Peter. He buzzed his secretary, Joan Robertson.
“Yes, master?”
“I’m going to have this little boy on my hands for the better part of two weeks,” Stone said. “What the hell am I going to do with him? Children’s theater? Museum of Natural History? Boats on the pond in Central Park?”
“How old is the boy?” she asked.
“Twelve, I think.”
“Well, that lets out girls; he’ll still hate them. How about South Street Seaport? Boys love sailing vessels.”
“Good one,” Stone said, making a note. “More.”
“Ummm… Central Park Zoo?”
“Another good one. More.”
“The Lion King?”
“Oh, God, I’ve been avoiding that for years.”
“You’ll love it, believe me. And that’s enough for three or four days. I’ll do some research. What are you doing for dinner tonight? Not Elaine’s, I hope.”
“Why not Elaine’s? He might see a movie star, or something. Anyway, Dino is bringing Ben, who’s just home from school for Christmas.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about what to do with him. After all, Arrington will be here, too, and she, at least, is accustomed to acting as a parent.”
“Don’t say ‘parent,’ ” he said. “Hearing it gives me the willies. I’ll be his host.”
“You’ll survive,” she said, then hung up.
Stone finished his sandwich, frequently checking his watch. Arrington’s Gulfstream III was due into Teterboro at noon, or so, and he had hired a driver and sent his car to meet them. So, he reckoned, they should be here about… the upstairs doorbell rang… now. He took a deep breath, got into his jacket, and ran up the stairs to the front hall. One more deep breath, a big smile slapped on his face, and he opened the door.
A handsome young man stood there, wearing a tweed jacket and a necktie and holding a briefcase, the driver behind him with two more cases. What the hell?
“Uncle Stone?” the young man said.
“Peter? I wouldn’t have recognized you! Come in! Is your mother still in the car?”
