“Because I know what a lazy old fart you are, and that you often leave school early.”
“I come home to do paperwork,” he protested. “They won’t leave me alone if I’m at school.”
“I want you to come up here right now,” she said.
He laughed. “What’s up, Letitia?”
“I have a candidate for you, sitting on my living room sofa, filling out his application, right now.”
“Letitia, you know we have a waiting list.”
“You’re going to forget all about that when you meet him,” she said. “Now get your ass up here!” She hung up and went back to the living room.
Peter rose as she entered and handed her the folder.
“Already finished?”
“Yes, ma’am. I put my birth certificate and my transcript in the folder, along with a recommendation from the headmaster.”
The doorbell rang, and the maid led in a man wearing a seedy cardigan and a necktie loose at the collar.
“Peter, this is Arthur Golden, our headmaster at Knickerbocker.”
Peter stood and offered his hand, noticing that he was taller than Golden. “How do you do, sir?”
“Sit down, sit down,” Golden said. “I’m not accustomed to good manners from students.”
“I’m afraid, Arthur,” Miss Covington said, “that Peter doesn’t know how to behave any other way.” She handed him the screenplay. “Read the first scene,” she said. “We’ll wait.”
Golden sat down, put on the glasses that hung from a string around his neck, and began to read. Finally he stopped and began asking Peter all the questions Miss Covington had asked him.
When Peter had dutifully answered them all, Golden looked at Miss Covington and nodded. “Peter, I’d like you to come to the school tomorrow morning, meet some people and have a look around. Please bring your parents, if you like.”
“I’d like that very much, Mr. Golden,” Peter replied.
“Don’t wear a jacket and tie,” Golden said. “You’ll frighten the other students.”
18
P eter ran into Stone’s office, breathless. “I think I got in!” he shouted. “Miss Covington was just great, and she made the headmaster, Mr. Golden, come up to her apartment to meet me!”
Stone helped him off with his coat and steered him to the sofa. “Sit down and take a few deep breaths,” he said, and got the boy a bottle of water from the fridge.
Peter gave him a blow-by-blow account of his meeting. “I’m going to the school tomorrow morning. They said you and Mom could come, too!”
“I’m available,” Stone said, “and I’m sure your mother is, too.”
That evening they attended The Lion King, which Stone liked much better than he thought he would, and they dined at Sardi’s. Stone explained the history of the restaurant, and they played at recognizing the faces in the caricatures hung in rows on the walls. Peter did better than Stone.
Later, as they climbed into bed, Stone pulled Arrington close to him. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
“Good. Will you marry me?”
She pushed him back and looked at him. “Stone, are you just trying to make an honest woman of me?”
“Among other things. In addition to all the other good reasons for getting married, I don’t think Peter ought to have to explain our relationship to people.”
“What about this separate living in New York and Virginia?”
“That’s still to be negotiated, after we’ve settled the basic question.”
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, “gladly and with enthusiasm.” They kissed for a long time.
Finally, Stone broke free. “Wait right here,” he said, getting up.
“Did you think I was going somewhere?”
Stone padded across the bedroom to his dressing room, where he pushed back some suits and opened his safe. He felt around at the rear of the steel box until he found it, then he locked the safe, went back to Arrington, and handed her the box.
She looked at him, mystified, then opened it, revealing the ring inside, along with a matching diamond wedding ring.
“It’s not as big as your old one,” Stone said, “but it’s more, ah, tasteful.”
“It’s gorgeous,” she said. “When did you buy this?”
“Before our planned trip to the islands,” he replied. “I had planned to give it to you when we were in St. Marks, but we didn’t quite make it there, at least, not together. It’s been in my safe ever since.”
Arrington slipped it on. “It’s perfect. What is it, six carats?”
“Five and a bit, nearly flawless.”
“You couldn’t afford this in those days.”
“I managed. Now it seems like a good investment; it would cost five times as much now.”
She sat up in bed next to him, naked, looking nymph-like, looking at her ring on her finger. “We have some things to work out.”
“Yes, we do. Before we start, remember that I have a career in New York, more than ever.”
“I am cognizant of that,” she said. “But you have to remember that I’m building a new house, and that it’s almost finished. I have work to do there, and I’ll want to spend a lot of time there. I admit, I’m enjoying New York more than I did when I last lived here, and I love your house, too.”
“You have a fast airplane,” he said. “You can come and go as you wish. I hope you’ll miss me, though.”
She sighed. “I’m sure I will. And I think we should go ahead with the hotel project in Los Angeles.”
“All right.” Arrington’s house in Bel-Air rested on eighteen acres, and Stone had put together a plan to develop it as a hotel. “Do you think you’ll have to spend a lot of time there?”
“No, I don’t. I’ll make the architects and landscapers come to New York or Virginia with their plans, and I’ll try not to go until my house there is finished.” Part of the deal was that the developers would build her a house on the hotel grounds.
“Sounds good.”
“You and Woodman amp; Weld have done a superb job of putting my affairs in order. That’s why I think I can go ahead with the project.”
“On behalf of Woodman amp; Weld, I thank you. You have a lot to thank Mike Freeman for, too. He’s put together a great group of investors and brought in the hotel management group, too.”
“I’ll write him a note on my best stationery,” she said.
“Order some new stationery tomorrow,” Stone said.
“That brings up another problem, a very big one,” she said.
“Stationery?”
“Yes. I cannot be Arrington Barrington.”
Stone burst out laughing. “This could wreck the whole thing, couldn’t it?”
“It certainly could.”
“I have a solution.”
“I hope so. Tell me.”
“Your maiden name is Carter; call yourself Arrington Carter Barrington. You could even hyphenate it, if you’re feeling posh.”
“Arrington Carter Barrington. That makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”
“All you needed was a little air between the two names.”
“Lots of people use names like that these days,” she said, repeating it.
“They do, don’t they?”
“When do you want to get married?”
