Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 21

guess. I sounded pretty funny for a while there.”
    “I expect you did. Did your mother tell you I have a friend who’s a policeman, Dino Bacchetti?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, Dino has a son who’s . . . about your age, and we’re having dinner with them tonight.”
    “At Elaine’s?”
    “Your mother told you about Elaine’s?”
    “She told me a lot about it. She said it was her favorite place in New York.”
    “Is this your first visit to New York?”
    “Yes, it is. My folks always left me at home when they came here.”
    “I think you’re going to like it,” Stone said. “Come on, let’s go find your room.”
    They got onto the elevator, rode up two floors, and entered the smallest guest room, adjacent to Stone’s master suite. He hadn’t wanted the boy to feel lost in one of the bigger rooms.
    “Have you had lunch?”
    “Yes, they fed me on the airplane,” he replied.
    “What do you think of your mother’s new Gulfstream?”
    “Wow!” Peter said.
    “Exactly. Now, I have to go to a meeting with the new head of Centurion Studios in a few minutes. Why don’t you get unpacked and watch some TV?”
    “You’re seeing Mr. Goldman? Stone, I’d like very much to meet him. May I come with you? I’m a film student.”
    Stone was taken aback, but what the hell? Goldman couldn’t object to meeting the son of Vance Calder, his studio’s greatest star. “Of course, Peter. I’ll be glad to have you come along. Go ahead and get settled, then come down to my office, on the bottom floor. We’re due at Centurion’s New York office in forty-five minutes.”
    “I’ll be down in fifteen,” Peter said, unsnapping a suitcase and starting to hang up jackets and suits.
    Stone went back to his office, shaking his head. What a shock! The kid was nearly a man in both appearance and manner!

4
    S tone and Peter arrived at Centurion’s Fifth Avenue offices on time. Peter was carrying a slim leather envelope-style briefcase, and Stone wondered what was in it. They were asked to wait for a moment while Leo Goldman finished a conference call to the coast.
    “You’re a film student?” Stone asked Peter. “In high school?”
    “We have only one film class at school, so perhaps I should have said, ‘student of film.’ ”
    “I see. What part of film most interests you?”
    “I want to direct,” Peter replied.
    Of course, Stone thought. Everybody wants to direct. “Good,” he said.
    “Mr. Goldman will see you now,” the secretary said, just as Mike Freeman walked in.
    “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shaking hands with Stone.
    “We had a short wait anyway,” Stone replied. “Mike, this is Peter, Arrington’s son.”
    “Of course,” Mike said, shaking the boy’s hand. “I heard a lot about you from your mother on a flight across the country in her new airplane.”
    “Yes, she told me you helped her find and buy it,” Peter said.
    They walked into a large square room, which was decorated with abstract paintings. Leo Goldman, Jr., rose from his chair and pumped everybody’s hand. He was short, stocky, and balding, and he waved an unlit cigar when he talked.
    “And this is my friend Peter,” Stone said. For some reason, he didn’t mention Peter’s last name. He wasn’t sure why.
    “Good to see you, Stone, Mike. And Peter, I’m very glad to know you.”
    Peter nodded and managed a shy smile.
    “Peter is a student of film,” Stone said, “and he wanted to meet you.”
    “Yes, Mr. Goldman,” Peter said, “I’m an admirer of your work as a producer, particularly Chain Letter .”
    Goldman looked surprised. “Well, Peter, you have an eye for quality, but perhaps not for commercial success. That one was my worst turkey.”
    “Oh, I liked Blast , too,” Peter said. “And I liked your father’s work when he was running Centurion.”
    Goldman roared. “That’s more like it. Let’s sit.” He waved them to a round conference table in a corner, and after a few pleasantries, Goldman launched into a description of his first year at the helm, covering grosses and expenses along the way. He talked nonstop for forty minutes, also covering his production plans for the coming year and a number of TV pilots that were currently in production. “Any questions?” he asked when he was done.
    “Not from me,” Stone said. “I think you’ve covered everything I could have asked.”
    “That goes for me, too,” Mike Freeman replied.
    “May I ask a question?” Peter said, half raising his