“That’s breathtaking,” Stone said.
“I’m sure you were bright, too, Stone,” she said. “God knows he didn’t get it from me.”
“Now, now.”
Arrington reached into the large handbag resting next to her chair and handed Stone a thick envelope. “This is my will and the trust I set up for Peter. I’d like you and the people at Woodman amp; Weld to look it over and redraw it. My beneficiaries haven’t changed, but I’ll be interested to see if you think the trust needs work.”
“Of course,” Stone said. “We’ll do that as a courtesy.”
“You’ll never make any money that way, Stone.”
“We’ll do all right.”
“You’ll see that I’ve appointed you Peter’s trustee. I didn’t tell you, because, I suppose, I felt invulnerable, but recently I had a brush with ovarian cancer. They caught it early, but I had to have my ovaries out, and now I’m on hormones. If I get sick again, I’ll give you as much notice as I can, but you could, possibly, find yourself being a father to your son.”
“That would be an honor,” Stone said.
“Considering that you’re his father, it’s more of a duty,” she said. “Maybe he’ll find that out one day, but I don’t want you to tell him. He’s Vance’s son to the world, and that will be an advantage to him, if you help him handle it properly.”
“I can see how it would be.”
“You’re going to have to keep it from him how rich he’s going to be.”
“I expect he may have already figured that out,” Stone said, “and if he hasn’t, the kids at his school are going to tell him.”
“I suppose you’re right. Then we’ll both have to do what we can to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground.”
“One way is not to give him control of his trust until he’s older,” Stone said, “perhaps at thirty-five.”
“That’s a very good idea, and one I’m happy to leave in your hands.”
“Thank you; I’ll try and do right by him.”
“I’d like to bring him to New York to see you,” she said.
“You’d both be very welcome; I’ll look forward to it.”
“Now,” she said, taking another sip of her iced tea, “what are we going to do about this Centurion business?”
“You want my recommendation?”
“Yes, please, and I’ll tell you up front, I’ll follow it. I’m not equipped to deal with this.”
“All right. First, I think that you should not sell your shares. In fact, I think you should buy more.”
“Why?”
“Because Centurion is giving you a better return on your investment that just about anything could. It’s extremely well run and profitable. Right now, you own a third of the shares. I think you should, over the next few years, increase your share to fifty-one percent.”
“My goodness!” Arrington said, sounding a little breathless. “I never thought of controlling the studio! Can I afford to buy that many more shares? Terrence Prince has run up the price, hasn’t he?”
“If we can get one or two owners on our side, that will kill the sale, and the price will go down. There may even be some who would prefer to sell to you at a lower price than to get into bed with Prince.”
“What do you think of him?” she asked.
“I think he’s a shark; maybe even a killer.”
“Then he’ll do just fine in the Virginia hunt country,” she said.
“I’d heard that he’d once bought a house there, then flipped it.”
“Now he’s bought another,” Arrington said. “I’ve sold him mine.”
“Prince is your buyer?”
“I think he bought the place as a way to get next to me and get my Centurion shares,” she said, laughing. “We closed yesterday.”
Stone began to laugh. “That’s wonderful.”
“You may have the pleasure of telling him I’m not budging, if you like.”
“Not yet; we still have to be sure we have a voting majority of the shares on our side.”
“I suppose so. Would you like to go to the Bel-Air party with me?”
“I’m already going with Mike Freeman, the CEO of Strategic Services, a client of mine, so you must join us.”
“I’d love to. Where’s Dino? Surely he’s here.”
“Out running around town,” Stone said. “Mike’s coming for drinks at six; Dino will be back by then.”
“Well, then,” she said, “I think I’ll go and have a nap. Care to join me?”
“Maybe later,” Stone said. “I want to read your estate documents.”
“Oh, all right.” She set down her iced tea, picked up her handbag, and walked toward the main house. Just before entering, she looked over her shoulder to be sure he was watching, then gave him a little smile.
20
Arrington excused herself to change for the Bel-Air Hotel party, and Stone changed clothes as well. Uncharacteristically, in L.A., he wore a suit and tie.
Mike Freeman arrived on time, and Stone sat him down by the pool and ordered drinks. “There’s someone joining us, if that’s all right,” Stone said.
“Of course,” Mike replied.
“Her name is Arrington Calder, an old friend and now my client.”
“Vance Calder’s widow?”
“Yes, and this is her house.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Mike said, looking around.
“So is Arrington,” Stone said.
She chose that moment to appear, wearing a white silk pajama suit, so Stone didn’t have to continue the description. He introduced the two.
Dino trotted past them. “I’ll change and be with you shortly,” he said, disappearing into the guesthouse.
“Mike,” Stone said, “Arrington is thinking of buying herself a jet, and I hope you can advise her, having had some experience yourself along those lines.”
“Of course,” Mike said. “We often advise clients on jet purchases. What will be your typical mission, Arrington?”
“Mission?”
“What sort of travel will you be doing?”
“Well,” she said, “I’m based near Charlottesville, Virginia, and I sometimes travel to L.A., Dallas, Miami, other cities.”
“Would you like to fly internationally?”
“Yes, to Europe.”
“How about the Far East?”
“I don’t go there very often.”
“If you don’t need to fly regularly nonstop to Tokyo or Hong Kong, you’ll save a great deal of money on an airplane by giving up range.”
“Then let’s save some money.”
Mike raised a finger. “You know, a client sent me a brochure on an airplane last week to ask my opinion. I think it’s in my briefcase. It’s a Gulfstream Three, known as a G-III. It might be just the thing.”
“Why didn’t your client buy it?” she asked.
“Because of the Far East travel; he decided he needed a longer-range airplane.”
“Would this G-III get me to London, nonstop?”
“Yes, and to anywhere else in Europe,” Mike said. “It’s three years old, but very low time-less than a thousand hours, as I recall. It was owned by an elderly couple, but he died recently, and his widow is not well enough to travel anymore. It has a very nice custom interior, and it’s based in Burbank. I can arrange for you to see it, if you like.”
“I’d like that very much,” Arrington said. “Will you show it to me?”
“Of course,” Mike said. “Excuse me for a moment.” He got out his cell phone and stepped away. He was back in a few minutes. “May I pick you up at ten tomorrow morning?” he asked Arrington.
“Perfect.”
“This is a very good time to buy an airplane,” he said, “and a bad time to sell. When those three automobile executives each flew alone to Washington in their private jets to beg for money from the government, that knocked the bottom out of the market for jet airplanes. Since then, the recession has slowed aircraft sales badly, and although things are picking up again, they’re not where they were a couple of years ago. Airplanes of the size and quality of the G-III are a particularly good buy.”
“I’ll bring my checkbook,” Arrington said.