"Here we go: It came from the residence of somebody named Warren Buffett, in Omaha, Nebraska. Holy shit, are you getting calls from Warren Buffett?"

"It would appear so. Thanks, Bob." He hung up and returned to his table.

"Everything all right?" Tiff asked.

"Seems to be," Stone replied. He was going to have to start taking Billy Bob Barnstormer seriously.

WHEN THE DINNER was over, they went back to her waiting car.

"I'll give you a lift home," she said. She lowered the partition window slightly and gave the driver the address.

"You know my address?"

"You'd be amazed at what I know about you."

Shortly, they stopped in front of his house. "How about dinner tomorrow night?"

"Let me call you when I see how my first day is going," she said. "Will you take me to Elaine's? I've never been."

"Sure." He gave her his card. "The cell-phone number is on there, too, if I'm not in my office. But then, you probably already know my cell-phone number."

"Of course I do," she said, pecking him on the cheek. "Thanks for squiring me tonight; I'd have felt awkward alone."

"I doubt if you've ever felt awkward in your life," Stone said. He slid out of the car and ran up the front steps, carrying his coat.

WHEN STONE got to his bedroom, Billy Bob's house present was stacked up at the foot of his bed, and Stone was confused. Maybe Joan had worked late and moved the luggage, but how had she even known about it?

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Stone woke at his usual seven o'clock, and this time, to the smell of frying bacon. He got into a robe and went down to the kitchen. Billy Bob was at the stove again, and his date of the night before was perched on a stool at the counter. Stone wondered if they had the mayor tucked away somewhere.

"Hey, Stone," Billy Bob said. "You're out of steak."

"Sorry about that," Stone said.

"This here is Tiffany," he said, nodding at the young woman.

She extended a hand. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Stone wasn't sure he could stand another Tiffany in his life. "I thought you'd gone to a hotel," he said to Billy Bob.

"Well, I thought so, too, but the Four Seasons won't have my suite until tomorrow night. I still had your key; I hope it ain't too much of a imposition."

"Oh, no," Stone said. "Make yourself at home. You, too," he said to the new Tiffany.

"I already did," she said. "I fucked Billy Bob's brains out last night in your guest room."

Billy Bob laughed loudly.

"I'm so pleased for you both," Stone said. "Billy Bob, I'll eat two of those eggs and two strips of bacon, and no more. I still have indigestion from yesterday."

The phone rang, and Stone answered it. "It's for you," he said. "Warren Buffett again."

Tiffany Two held the phone to Billy Bob's ear, so he could talk and cook at the same time. "You got it, Warren? Good. Everthing all right, then? Good. We got to talk about that other deal pretty soon. Yeah, I'll be at this number until tomorrow, then at the Four Seasons. Watch your ass, Warren; bye-bye."

Stone hung up the phone, feeling this was all wrong. One didn't tell Warren Buffett to watch his ass. Or did one? He didn't really know.

STONE WAS READING in his study when Tiff called. "How's your first day going?" he asked.

"Meeting after meeting, mostly just to get introduced to everybody. I've been brought up-to-date on a couple of cases."

"You sent up Martha Stewart, yet?"

"I told you, I'm keeping my distance from that. I didn't even ask about it."

"My guess is, you're going to get your ass kicked."

"Not my ass, sweetheart; I've got full deniability on that one. Looks like I'm okay for dinner, though. What time?"

"Pick you up at eight-thirty?"

"Why don't I pick you up? The car goes with the job."

"Do we really have to arrive at Elaine's with a security detail? I've got my reputation to think about."

"Tell you what, I'll ditch the Suburban, if the FBI will let me, but the driver will still be an agent. The office has had some threats, and the AG doesn't want me smeared all over a New York sidewalk. Like a lot of yokels, he thinks the city is a very dangerous place."

"I hope your office doesn't record your calls," Stone said, "or you're going to find yourself on the sidewalk job hunting."

"Good point. How does one dress at Elaine's?"

"Any way you like. I probably won't wear a necktie, if that helps."

"Okay, see you at eight-thirty; I'll dress sloppy."

SLOPPY TURNED OUT TO BE a sheepskin coat over a cashmere sweater and tan slacks that showed off her ass beautifully.

They settled at a table and ordered a drink, then Elaine came over.

"Elaine." Stone said, "this is Tiff Baldwin, the new U.S. Attorney."

"I heard," Elaine said, shaking her hand. "You leave Martha Stewart alone, you hear?"

"Not my case! Before my time!"

"Fuckin' Attorney General!" Elaine said. "Next, he'll be after me!" She got up and went to greet some friends.

"You know," Tiff said, "practically everybody I've met so far in this city, including everybody last night, has hit me with that?"

"It's a good thing you're not running for office," Stone said.

"Thank God for small favors. You sleep well last night?"

"Well, I tossed and turned for a while, thinking of you, but I finally got a few hours. Woke up this morning to find the Texan in my kitchen again, this time with his date. Oh, guess what her name is."

"Oh, God, don't tell me."

"I'm afraid so."

"You see the cross I bear."

"I do."

"What do you eat here?"

"Try the osso buco, unless you're dieting."

"I never diet; I exercise instead. The Waldorf has a very nice gym. Do you work out?" she asked, poking him in the belly with a finger.

"I hate it, but I do. I've got some equipment in the basement."

"It looks like a nice house; you had it long?"

"I inherited it from a great-aunt a few years ago and did most of the renovation myself."

"Nice to have a great-aunt, isn't it?"

"Yep. I'll show you the place sometime; my father did all the cabinetwork and millwork."

"Your father was a builder?"

"A cabinet and furniture maker. His father was a textile mill owner in Massachusetts, but they parted company over politics."

"What was the disagreement?"

"My grandfather was a Republican; my father was a Communist."

"No kidding?"

"Don't tell the AG; he'll come after me."

"Don't worry, his time is taken up with Islamists these days. Where'd your first name come from?"

"My mother's name was Matilda Stone."

"The painter?"

"Yes. You know her work?"

"I saw an exhibit of hers at the Morgan Library once, years ago. She's dead, isn't she?"

"They both are. Your folks still alive?"

"Very much so. Daddy is a Washington lawyer, and Mother is, well, a hostess and a great beauty. For a living."

"Baldwin and Peet?"

"The very same."

"So your daddy's rich, and your ma is good-lookin'?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Tough."

"Yes, it's been a hard life."

"You ready to order?"

"The osso buco sounds great."

Stone ordered it for both of them, along with a bottle of Amerone.

Dino came in. hung up his coat and sat down at their table.

"What are you doing here?" Stone asked. "Can't you see I'm trying to seduce this woman?"

"Introduce me," Dino said.

"Tiff, this is Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti, commander of the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct. Dino, this is Tiff Baldwin, the new U.S. Attorney."

"I heard about you on TV," Dino said. "Why are you trying to crucify Martha Stewart?"