create the illusion of a chin. He wasunmarried but had no shortage of young women willing to party with him.
Veronica Dell, Carter’s thirty-seven-year-old personal assistant, knocked and entered his office. She had a graduate degree in economics from Yale, a black belt in taekwondo, and the sexiest British accent Carter had ever heard, even though he knew it was fake. She’d been born and raised in Phoenix.
“How did the negotiations go?” she asked.
Carter left the balcony and returned to his office. “Perfectly.”
“Which side are we supporting?”
“Both,” he said.
“So we win either way.”
“That’s my idea of good business. Any calls?”
She nodded. “The CEO of AeroSystem. He’s sniffing around to see if you’re interested in buying some drones. Now that the war effort in Afghanistan is winding down, he’s overstocked.”
He liked the way Veronica said “overstocked.” “I didn’t catch that. What did he say he was again?”
“Overstocked.”
Carter smiled. It was like having a younger, sexier Mary Poppins working for him. He wondered if she’d sing “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” if he asked her to.
“Anything else?”
“Marissa Clopp at Emerald Coast Realty called,” Veronica said. Marissa was the Realtor who’d sold Carter the house he’d demolished to build this one. “She’s got two producers in her office from the TV show
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
. They’d like to feature your house in an episode.”
Carter knew the show. It was on Home & Style Television. He’d watched it several times and didn’t think that any of the housesthey’d featured so far came close to matching his in splendor, grandeur, or artistic vision.
“What are the names of the producers?”
“Jim Rockford and Lucy Carmichael.”
Carter thought about it. His privacy was important to him. But he also imagined the envy that his friends and enemies in Washington would feel when they saw how he lived. The fact that his house was on a show called
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
would say it all.
“Have the New York office check them out. In the meantime, get the president of Home & Style Television on the phone for me.”
The Palm Gardens office complex was a sprawling five-story building that wrapped around a man-made lake in a formerly industrial area of Santa Monica, California. The building was home to several cable TV channels, advertising agencies, and production companies. The most recent tenant was Rififi Studios, which occupied a cramped three-hundred-square-foot space above the entrance to the parking garage and below the headquarters of Home & Style Television.
The phone lines that served HSTV passed through one of Rififi’s walls. A hole had been cut through the wall, and a MacBook was wired into the bundle of phone lines. The MacBook was programmed to intercept any call from a Florida area code and redirect it to the phone in Rififi’s office. Boyd Capwell was by himself in the office playing solitaire when the phone finally rang for the first time.
“Home & Style Television, how may I direct your call?” Capwell said.
“This is Carter Grove’s office calling for Warren Kane.”
It was a woman speaking with the worst British accent Boyd had ever heard. Her dialect coach must have had a terrible speech impediment.
“One moment, please,” Boyd said. “I’ll transfer you to his office.” He put her on hold, then resumed the call with a voice that had dropped an octave. “Warren Kane’s office. Is Mr. Grove ready to speak to Mr. Kane?”
“He is.”
There was a click, and after a good thirty seconds had passed Carter Grove came on the line.
“Hey there, Warren. Glad you were available to talk. Are you familiar with who I am?”
“Of course I am, Mr. Grove. We just sent two field producers out to Palm Beach to knock on your door. We can’t continue calling our show
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
if we don’t feature your
Veronica Dell, Carter’s thirty-seven-year-old personal assistant, knocked and entered his office. She had a graduate degree in economics from Yale, a black belt in taekwondo, and the sexiest British accent Carter had ever heard, even though he knew it was fake. She’d been born and raised in Phoenix.
“How did the negotiations go?” she asked.
Carter left the balcony and returned to his office. “Perfectly.”
“Which side are we supporting?”
“Both,” he said.
“So we win either way.”
“That’s my idea of good business. Any calls?”
She nodded. “The CEO of AeroSystem. He’s sniffing around to see if you’re interested in buying some drones. Now that the war effort in Afghanistan is winding down, he’s overstocked.”
He liked the way Veronica said “overstocked.” “I didn’t catch that. What did he say he was again?”
“Overstocked.”
Carter smiled. It was like having a younger, sexier Mary Poppins working for him. He wondered if she’d sing “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” if he asked her to.
“Anything else?”
“Marissa Clopp at Emerald Coast Realty called,” Veronica said. Marissa was the Realtor who’d sold Carter the house he’d demolished to build this one. “She’s got two producers in her office from the TV show
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
. They’d like to feature your house in an episode.”
Carter knew the show. It was on Home & Style Television. He’d watched it several times and didn’t think that any of the housesthey’d featured so far came close to matching his in splendor, grandeur, or artistic vision.
“What are the names of the producers?”
“Jim Rockford and Lucy Carmichael.”
Carter thought about it. His privacy was important to him. But he also imagined the envy that his friends and enemies in Washington would feel when they saw how he lived. The fact that his house was on a show called
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
would say it all.
“Have the New York office check them out. In the meantime, get the president of Home & Style Television on the phone for me.”
The Palm Gardens office complex was a sprawling five-story building that wrapped around a man-made lake in a formerly industrial area of Santa Monica, California. The building was home to several cable TV channels, advertising agencies, and production companies. The most recent tenant was Rififi Studios, which occupied a cramped three-hundred-square-foot space above the entrance to the parking garage and below the headquarters of Home & Style Television.
The phone lines that served HSTV passed through one of Rififi’s walls. A hole had been cut through the wall, and a MacBook was wired into the bundle of phone lines. The MacBook was programmed to intercept any call from a Florida area code and redirect it to the phone in Rififi’s office. Boyd Capwell was by himself in the office playing solitaire when the phone finally rang for the first time.
“Home & Style Television, how may I direct your call?” Capwell said.
“This is Carter Grove’s office calling for Warren Kane.”
It was a woman speaking with the worst British accent Boyd had ever heard. Her dialect coach must have had a terrible speech impediment.
“One moment, please,” Boyd said. “I’ll transfer you to his office.” He put her on hold, then resumed the call with a voice that had dropped an octave. “Warren Kane’s office. Is Mr. Grove ready to speak to Mr. Kane?”
“He is.”
There was a click, and after a good thirty seconds had passed Carter Grove came on the line.
“Hey there, Warren. Glad you were available to talk. Are you familiar with who I am?”
“Of course I am, Mr. Grove. We just sent two field producers out to Palm Beach to knock on your door. We can’t continue calling our show
The Most Spectacular Homes on Earth
if we don’t feature your
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