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“Fine. I don’t want those weapons stolen; they’re worth a fortune.”
“I understand.”
He was beginning to sound more cordial, she thought.
“Listen to me, Arrington,” he said.
She turned to face him. “Yes? Is this about the house?”
“It’s about you and me. You can’t treat me as if I’m some servant who works here, not after what we’ve done in bed.”
Arrington drew back her right hand and delivered a swinging slap that connected with his face, staggering him. He stood, wideeyed, staring at her.
“Don’t you ever again speak to me in that manner, or about anything but this house. Is that perfectly clear?”
Rutledge rubbed his face, which had turned red with anger.
“As you wish,” he said.
“And there’s something you should know: Stone Barrington and I were married on Christmas Day.”
Rutledge turned pale and was blinking rapidly. “Congratulations,” he said weakly.
“Good,” she replied. “Now, let’s have a look at the living room floors.” She led him through the remainder of her list of things to do in the house, then she curtly said good-bye, got into her car, and drove back to her rental house.
39
Stone had slept late on Saturday morning when the phone rang. “Hello?” He coughed.
“Poor baby,” Arrington said, “I woke you. I thought you woke at dawn, regardless of the day.”
“So did I,” Stone replied, pressing the button to raise the head and foot of his bed to a sitting position. “How’s it going down there?”
“Better,” she said. “It was a mess when I got here, but I got it sorted out. The floors in the library and living room had been stained improperly, but that is being redone, and there were a dozen other things that needed attention. Moving-in day is next Friday.”
“Do you want me to come down there and help?”
“You’d just be in the way. You don’t know where anything goes, and I have a carefully worked out plan for where every piece of furniture and box should land. Anyway, I don’t want you to see it until it’s perfect.”
“I can handle perfect,” Stone said.
“What are you doing with yourself today?”
“Chaperoning Peter and a girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? What’s this?”
“She’s a music student at Knickerbocker, and he says she’s going to score his movie. He’s pretty excited about it. They’re going to lunch at the Brasserie, then coming here to watch the film.”
“And you’re going to sit between them, right?”
“Maybe I’ll watch it with them, or maybe just bundle them up in blankets and seal them in with duct tape. By the way, I read his script while he was having his interview at Yale, and I thought it was great.”
“Be sure and look in on them several times,” she said. “After all, he is your son, so he got half his genes from you.”
“And the other half from you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
