"Paul Levinson - Loose Ends (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Levinson Paul) Jeff smiled and rubbed his lips with his fingers. The
Beatles' "Thank You, Girl" played languorously in the background. "Ok, how's this: Let's say I tell you that in about a year and a half from now, the Beatles will have a hit record called `Help' from a movie by the same name?" Laura laughed. "You've got imagination, I'll say that for you. But I still don't think I'd be convinced. How do I know that you're not a personal friend of George Martin's with some special information about the Beatles' plans?" Laura frowned for a moment then snapped her fingers. "No, I've got it! You tell me what number on Billboard's Hot 100 a _non_-Beatle record -- one that won't almost certainly make Number One -- will be in 1966, and I'll believe that you know the future!" Laura extended her hands in a triumphant gesture, pitching over a nearly full glass of red wine onto her shirt in the process. Jeff jumped up, napkin in hand, and began patting Laura's soaked sleeve dry. He progressed from her sleeve to her cheek, and suddenly was less than an inch from Laura's upturned face. Her eyes were rosy with wine, her mouth soft and parted. He touched his lips to hers, gently at first, then found himself lost in a realm of warmth and darkness... He finally pulled away. "Well," he managed, gasping a bit for breath, "no one can ever say that I don't give my students personal attention." "I'd be glad to write you a letter of recommendation," she with you." "You found this aggravating?" "Quite the opposite," Laura replied. Still standing over her, Jeff touched her hair with his finger. "I've got a lot I need to tell you," he said softly. "By the way, no one but a record producer would know the exact number on the charts of a record even now, so your test of my knowledge of the future is too demanding." *** They walked hand in hand a few evenings later along groves overlooking the Hudson River. Across they could see the Palisades of New Jersey, carved whole out of stone as if by some supreme civilization, and near them the palette of Wave Hill Park in the late Spring. Wave Hill -- home of Mark Twain, of Toscanini, and an Easter parade of a notables across a century. In the late 1800s, William Appleton had lived here, amidst his publication in America of Darwin and Spencer. JFK had lived in a house across the street in the 1930s. Recently a British ambassador had donated most of this to the people of New York. Jeff knew it wouldn't especially help his larger predicament to get involved with Laura, to tell her what he was about. On the other hand, what harm could it do -- set in motion a jagged timeloop which would wink him out of existence? Not likely. And the smell of her neck and his need to talk had |
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