Chapter 1
“Unless Larry says I missedsomething, I think that’s it,” Ben Whitman said. He was CEO and lead architect at Whitman & Whitman. The other Whitman, his father, had retired over a decade earlier.
Ben was the designer of the Arrington Group’s newest property, the Arrington Vineyard. The nearly completed resort was the reason Stone Barrington, Mike Freeman, and Marcel DuBois had come to Martha’s Vineyard that day.
“That was everything on my list,” Larry Chandler said. Larry was the project manager. He oversaw every aspect of construction in preparation for the quickly approaching grand opening.
“Gentlemen, we can’t thank you enough,” Stone said. “Despite the setbacks, you have delivered as promised and then some. I have a feeling this could become our most popular property yet.”
“I agree,” Mike said.
“My heart will always be with our Paris hotel,” Marcel said, “but I can’t deny that the Arrington Vineyard will be a close second.”
The sentiment was understandable as Marcel oversawthe Arrington properties in Europe, the Paris hotel being the first of that group.
At one time, the land upon which the Arrington Vineyard was now being built had been split between three separate properties, each with a lavish mansion. All three had been owned by Stone’s late client, Shepherd Troutman.
But the homes had been burned to the ground by the same people who had subsequently planted a bomb in an airplane Stone was flying with Shep and Shep’s father onboard. Luck had been on Stone’s side, and he’d survived the semi-controlled crash into the sea. The Troutmans, however, had not.
To Stone’s surprise, Shep had left him the Martha’s Vineyard properties and a good deal more, with the hope that the land would be turned into an Arrington resort.
After several supply-chain-related delays, that dream was finally coming to fruition. Now all that was left to do was complete final details, train the staff, and prepare for the Arrington Vineyard’s grand opening, scheduled for the following month.
The brand would expand again next year when construction on the Arrington Santa Fe was completed.
Ben and Larry escorted Stone and the others to the waiting Suburban in front of the resort’s main building.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Mike said. “We’ll see you at the next scheduled meeting, which I believe is sometime next week.”
“On Wednesday,” Ben said. “If anything unexpected comes up before then, we’ll let you know.”
Hands were shaken and goodbyes were exchanged.
Stone’s phone vibrated as he climbed into the SUV. He answered the call.
“Are you in town or out of town?” Dino Bacchetti asked.He was the New York City commissioner of police and Stone’s best friend. The two had been NYPD detectives together in the distant past.
“Hello to you, too,” Stone said. “And I’m out of town but heading back.”
“In time for dinner?”
“In plenty of time.”
“There’s a new place Viv wants to try out called Liesel’s.”
“I’ve heard of it. It’s supposed to have great steaks. I’m in.”
“Seven?”
“Works for me,” Stone said.
“Alone? Or plus one?”
“Alone.”
“You know, you’ll have to get back on the horse at some point.”
“Goodbye, Dino,” Stone said and hung up.
