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“I’m never wrong about these things.”

She laughed, then seemed to fall asleep. Stone was nearly asleep, himself, when she jerked awake.

“Is that my cell phone ringing?” she asked.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Maybe they left a message.”

“I don’t want it,” she replied. “What are our plans for the day?”

“Eggs Benedict, mimosas and the New York Times.”

“I get the crossword.”

“I’ll make you a copy and race you to the finish.”

“You wouldn’t have a chance.”

“Big talk.”

“I’ll finish it in half an hour.”

“On Sunday? I’ll finish it . . . quickly.”

“I’m hungry,” she said.

“You’re saying you want me to leave you and make breakfast?”

“No, I’ll leave you and make breakfast.”

“Do I have to watch?”

“No, you can sleep, and I’ll bring it up here.”

“There’s a dumbwaiter,” he said. “Just press the button.” Then he fell asleep.

Stone was awakened by the clanging of the dumbwaiter bell, and by the time Tiff had climbed the stairs, he had the trays arranged on the bed. He was surprised to see that she was still naked.

“You always walk around naked?” he asked as she climbed into bed and arranged her pillows.

“Always,” she said. “Except at the office.”

They dug into their food.

“Wonderful hollandaise,” he said. “Just the right amount of lemon.”

“Thank you, sir. Your risotto last night was wonderful, too. Lovely flavor.”

“You were wonderful last night. This morning, too.”

“I’m going to be wonderful again, as soon as I finish breakfast.”

“You have an optimistic view of my capabilities,” he said.

“I have an optimistic view of my capability to excite your capabilities.”

“It’s hard to argue with that.”

“Then don’t; just get rid of these trays.”


Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery