Dirt

crossed her arms, took hold of the sweater, and yanked it over her head. “All right,” she said, “let’s do it.”
    Stone took another bite of the muffin. “No thanks,” he said, his voice muffled by the food. “I’m eating.”
    “Tell me what you want,” she said.
    Stone washed the muffin down with some orange juice. “I don’t know what I want, beyond the immediate urge to make love to you, but I know what I don’t want; I
don’t
want to be kept at arm’s length.” “I don’t mean to do that.”
    Stone sighed. “I think what we need to do is start over.”
    “Okay.”
    “When would you like to do that?”
    “Oh, Jesus, it’s a really bad time for…”
    “Arrington, you owe me nothing; you don’t have to change your life to make room for me.”
    “But I
want
to make room for you.”
    “Then what you have to do is figure out what’s clogging up your life, and
do
something about it.”
    “That’s just like a man,” she said. “Figure out your life, rearrange it,
order your existence
.”
    “This may have escaped your attention, but I am a man, and I don’t see what’s wrong with ordering your existence.
Everybody
has to order his existence, just to get through the day.” “Well, if that’s how you feel about it,” she said huffily, struggling back into the sweater.
    “It certainly is,” he said. “You go and take a look at your life, and if you find some room in it, call me.”
    “Typical,” she said, throwing things into her duffel.
    “
Typical?
” he nearly shouted.
    “Don’t raise your voice to me!”
    Stone’s bedside phone buzzed, and the intercom light flashed. He ignored it and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said.
    “Good for you.”
    “Is this our first fight?”
    “It could be our last one,” she shot back, getting into her coat.
    The intercom buzzed again. Stone picked it up. “Yes?” he said.
    “Stone, I’m sorry to disturb you,” his secretary said, “but Bill Eggers left a message on the office machine last night. He wants you to be at his office this morning at ten for a meeting; he said it was important.” “Thanks,” Stone said and hung up.
    “Now you’re being rude to your secretary,” Arrington said.
    Stone looked at his bedside clock and got out of bed. “I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment,” he said, “and it’s nine-thirty now.”
    Arrington looked at him. “So now you’re going to parade around naked and try to turn me on.”
    “It’s a desperate move, but it’s the only card I have left to play.”
    “It’s working,” she said, walking over to him, dropping the duffel.
    She made a grab at his crotch, but he dodged her and ran toward the bathroom. “Oh, no,” he called back, “you’re going to have to wait until I can make room in my busy schedule for you.” “Bastard!” she yelled after him. “I’ll call you tonight.” She picked up the duffel and left.
     
     
    Stone arrived at Woodman & Weld five minutes late and went directly to Bill Eggers’s office.
    “Come in, Stone, and have a seat,” Eggers said, pointing at a chair next to the sofa. “You know Glynnis Hickock from Amanda Dart’s dinner party last week.”
    Dick Hickock’s wife sat primly at one end of the sofa. “Good morning,” she said.
    Stone sat down. “Of course. How are you?”
    “Just great,” the woman said through clenched teeth.
    “Would anyone like some coffee?” Eggers asked.
    “I would,” Glynnis responded.
    “Bill, could I speak with you outside for just a minute?” Stone asked. He had an idea of where this might be leading, and he wanted to head it off before it got started.
    “Stone, don’t worry, anything you’ve got to say you can say in front of Glynnis.” He set a cup on the coffee table and poured from a Thermos. “The short version of this is, Glynnis needs some surveillance on her husband, in preparation for divorce proceedings.” “Bill, I really have to speak to you alone, and right now.”
    Eggers looked at him, surprised. “Glynnis, I’m sorry, will you excuse us for just a moment?”
    Glynnis crossed her legs and picked up her coffee cup but said nothing.
    Stone walked into the adjacent conference room, waited for Eggers, then closed the door. “I can’t be involved in this,” he said.
    “
Now
you tell me,” Eggers cried. “Do you know how big a divorce this is going to be?”
    “I can guess, but I can’t be involved. I have a conflict.”
    “What kind of conflict?”