"Van Lustbader, Eric - Linnear 01 - The Ninja" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Lustbader Eric)Goldman was enamored of contrasts. His face was somewhat long, lined, pitted
slightly on the crown of each cheek. It was a proud face, dominated by large brown eyes, despite the long nose and generous mouth. He wore a blue pinstripe shirt with solid white collar and a navy and maroon Italian silk tie. He knew how to dress, Goldman did. Despite this, his sleeves were rolled half way up his forearms. Looking at him now, Nicholas abruptly knew why this was going to be so hard for him to do. 'I'm glad, Sam,' he said. 'Well, sit down, sit down then.' Goldman waved him to a beige suede and chrome chair in front of his enormous desk. It was not, perhaps, what he would have chosen himself but all his clients were happy with it. 'No, I'm fine where I am, thanks.' Now that he was down to it, he realized that there was just no easy way. 'I'm leaving, Sam.' 'Leaving? What, you want a vacation already? You've only been creative director for six months -' 'Seven.' 'So who's counting? Anyway, you want a vacation? Okay, you got a vacation. Where're you going?' 'I don't think you understand, Sam. I want to leave the company. Resign.' Goldman swivelled around in his chair, stared out of the window. 'You know, it's going to snow today. On the radio they said no. But I knew better. An old campaigner can always tell. My feet tell me. Every time I play tennis. I said to Edna this morning -' 'Sam, did you hear me?' Nicholas said gently. "That Kingsley. What a schmuck! He enough to come here.' He swivelled back, abruptly. 'You, Nick, you know advertising.' 'Sam-' 'Resign, Nicky? Resign? What's this resign? I don't believe it. You have everything here. Everything. You know how much we're gonna net - not gross, mind you, but net - from this one goddamn campaign of yours?' 'I don't care, Sam.' 'Two hundred fucking thousand, Nick. Now why would you leave?' 'I'm tired, Sam. Honestly. I feel like I've been in advertising so long that lately - lately, I've been waking up feeling like Count Dracula." Goldman cocked his head, a non-verbal sign of query. 'You know, like I've been in a coffin.' 'You're going back to Japan.' 'I hadn't really thought about it.' He was far more pleased than surprised; Goldman was unusually perceptive about these things. 'I don't know that it matters.' 'Of course it matters I' Goldman exploded. 'I think about going back to Israel all the time!' 'You didn't grow up in Israel,' Nicholas countered. 'I would have if it'd've been in existence then.' He snorted. 'But that's irrelevant.' He waved a hand again. 'History. History is all that matters.' A call came through for him and he barked at one of the sphinxes outside to jot it down as a callback. 'Listen, I don't give a good goddamn what we make outa Kingsley, Nicky, you know that. But it's a sign. Can't you see that? You're hot now. I felt it was gonna happen a year ago and now I know I was right. You really want to walk away from that now?' 'I don't think want is the right word,' Nicholas said. 'Have to is more like |
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