“What’s wrong with him?” Eggers asked Dino.
“He feels put upon,” Dino replied.
“Put upon?”
“That’s it, put upon.”
“I suppose I’m the putter-upon?”
“One of several, I believe,” Dino said.
Stone took a gulp of his Knob Creek.
“Has he been drinking like that all evening?” Eggers asked.
“No,” Dino replied, “just for the last half hour, but the night is young.”
“You didn’t return my phone call, Stone,” Eggers said.
“What phone call?”
“Don’t you ever get your messages? I sent you an e-mail, too.”
“I forgot to look at my e-mail.”
“What’s wrong with you, boy?”
“Too much sex from too many women,” Dino offered.
“Good God!” Eggers said. “You haven’t been fucking our client’s daughter, have you?”
“No!” Stone said. “I haven’t laid a hand on her.”
“She’s the exception to the rule,” Dino said.
“Because I don’t know how I would explain that to Philip Parsons,” Eggers said.
“Since it
’s not happening, you won’t have to explain it,” Stone said, looking up from his glass.
“Well, it’s a relief to hear that you make an exception now and then. Or is Hildy the first?”
“Hildy is not the first,” Stone said emphatically. “I have a normal sex life. Normally.”
Dino burst out laughing, and so did Eggers.
“Are you people here just to torment me?” Stone asked. “Can’t you see I’m in pain?”
“Oh?” Eggers said. “Where does it hurt?”
Dino started laughing again.
“I withdraw the question,” Eggers said. “Can we have some menus?” he said to a passing waiter. “You’ll feel better, Stone, when you get some food into your stomach to keep the bourbon company.”
“I’m not hungry,” Stone said.
“We’re going to have to force-feed him,” Dino said, trying not to laugh.