Here was an interesting move, Stone thought. If Mitzi bit, then Sharpe would, in no time, have a complete picture of what he could steal from her.
“I’m very well taken care of in that respect,” Mitzi said. “My father has three people in his office who do nothing but handle our family’s money.”
“Perhaps I could meet with them sometime,” Sig said.
“They’re in Charleston, and they hate New York,” Mitzi said.
“You know, I’m going to be in Savannah early next week,” Sig said. “Perhaps I could pop up to Charleston and see them.”
“I’ll ask Daddy,” Mitzi said.
“I’m at your disposal,” Sig said.
“Where are we dining?” Mitzi asked.
“I’ve booked us at Sette Mezzo,” Sharpe replied. “In half an hour.”
This was interesting, Stone thought. Sette Mezzo didn’t take credit cards, only cash, unless one had a house account.
Mitzi picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Please be downstairs in twenty minutes,” she said into the instrument.
“I love your Hockney,” Hildy said, speaking for the first time. “I saw it at my father’s gallery, of course.”
“Yes, I’m very pleased with it,” Mitzi said.
“Oh, by the way,” Hildy said, “I ran into Ralph Lauren this morning; he sends his regards.”
“That’s sweet of him,” Mitzi said. “Do you like the lamps?”
“Very much,” Hildy said, and Sharpe murmured an assent.
“Ralph found them at one of the Paris flea markets,” Mitzi said.
“Wonderful places,” Patti Larsen interjected.
“Aren’t they?” Mitzi said.
Conversation continued along these lines until they finally made their way downstairs. Stone and Mitzi got into the Bentley, and the other two couples boarded their own black Town Car.
“How did drinks go?” Tom asked from the front seat of the Bentley.
“Just as you’d expect,” Mitzi said. “We’re all squared away on the Hockney and Ralph Lauren.”
“ Lexington and Seventy-sixth, please, Tom,” Stone said.
SETTE MEZZO WAS, as always, crowded with the voluble, so Stone reckoned their conversation would be subdued at a table for six, since they wouldn’t be able to hear each other. They were shown to a corner table, which helped. Sharpe revealed himself as never having been to the restaurant by ordering martinis for everyone. If he had been there before, Stone thought, he would have known that the restaurant served only wine, except for secret bottles of Scotch and vodka kept for more demanding guests. Stone now knew that he would be buying dinner.
Mitzi was seated between Sharpe and Sig Larsen, and Stone between Patti Larsen and Hildy Parsons. This meant that Stone would have difficulty, in the noisy restaurant, understanding what Sharpe and Larsen were saying to Mitzi, not that she would have any difficulty handling them.
“So, Stone,” Patti Larsen said, “what do you do?” Her hand crept onto his knee.
“I’m an attorney,” Stone replied. “I sue people.”
She removed her hand. “How nice for you.”
“Usually,” Stone replied.
“Where is your office?”