Page 9 of Stuart Woods' Golden Hour

“Something that is not my place to say.”

“But you know what it is.”

Stone nodded. “I’ve been briefed.”

“So I’m the reason you’re in L.A.?”

“You are.”

“What if I say no to drinks?”

“Then you drop Hattie off, go home, and we never discuss this again.”

“And Lance would be okay with that?”

Stone grimaced. “I’ll make him understand. Though there is one thing that I can tell you that might help you decide.”

“I’m listening.”

“It concerns Operation Golden Hour.”

Billy was seldom caught off guard, but he was at that moment.

“Should I expect you?” Stone asked. “Or should I tell Lance you’re not coming.”

“I’ll be there.”

4

By the time Teddy arrivedat the Arrington Hotel—still in his Billy Barnett guise—it was nearly eleven. He gave the valet his keys, climbed into a waiting golf cart, and was driven to Stone’s house, located behind the hotel’s main building.

Stone opened the door and let Teddy in. “You made it.”

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” Teddy asked.

Stone smirked. “I thought there was a chance.”

“I can’t deny that the thought of going home crossed my mind, but…”

“How about something to drink?”

“Macallan?”

“The twelve- or the eighteen-year-old?”

“Eighteen. A double.”

Stone led Teddy into the living room, then headed over to the bar.

Lance Cabot rose from where he’d been sitting on the couch. “Good evening, Teddy. You’re looking good. Hollywood obviously suits you.”

“I like to think so.”

Lance gestured to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. “Please, sit.”

Stone joined a few moments later, handed Teddy his drink, and sat in the chair next to him.

Teddy thanked him, then said to Lance, “Stone said the craziest thing to get me to show up here. He said that you wanted to talk to me about Golden Hour.”

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