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“Like a rock?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You have a good hand,” she said, squeezing.
“As do you,” Stone said.
She gave him that little smile again, which caused a thrill to run down his leg. “I’m meeting a friend,” he said. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“How kind you are. I’d love to.”
“What brings you to New York?”
“Pleasure,” she said, “along with a little business.”
“What business are you in?”
“Vodka,” she said. “My father makes Poland’s finest. He sent me here to meet with someone who would like to be our North American distributor. I am to judge his worthiness and report back.”
“How soon are you reporting back?”
“Not too soon. I still have pleasure to occupy me.”
Dino had suddenly appeared and plugged into the conversation. Introductions were made. “That would explain why you are drinking Scotch, instead of vodka.”
She made a face. “I drink vodka—Papa’s vodka—all the time,” she said. “Scotch is a nice change. Don’t tell Papa.”
“I won’t tell Papa,” Dino said.
“You can go home now, Dino,” Stone said. “We won’t be needing you anymore.”
“Fat chance,” Dino said.
“What does this mean?” Anna asked.
“No,” Dino said. “I won’t go home.”
Anna gave him a big smile. “You are sweet, Dino.”
They took possession of their table.
“What is good here?” Anna asked.
“Beef,” Dino said.
They all ordered steaks, and Stone ordered an expensive cabernet, then they settled in.
“Have you met this distributor yet?” Stone asked.
“Yes, but he is old. At least forty.”
Stone and Dino exchanged a glance. “Ripe,” Dino said. “Like a good wine.”
“If you say so,” she said, trying hers. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
Stone felt relieved.
She leaned over the table, exposing more cleavage. Stone and Dino were transfixed.
