Date: Thu, 11 Jun 1998 16:05:46 GMT From: Robyn Harris Organization: Wesleyan College Subject: Re: [WRITERS] INT:Goldman Pictures, How nice a lady can be.. J. Hall,jhall@LEMOORENET.COM,Internet writes: > "Is Lansky looking at you?" I whispered, hoping she could hear me over >the >ever increasing laughter. > "He's picking up feathers," she whispered back. "Why?" > "Because I have half the Teamster's pension fund under here and if we >don't make it to the lobby in about five seconds, one of us is going to >have a nice little trip to Cuba as his guest, that's why, and I'd rather >not have it be you, if it's all the same." > Reine glanced at the doorway. > Then at me. > "Come on, then." She took my hand and began extracting me as the >lights >went totally off. "God, I can't take you anywhere." *** They wound their way through the crowd, Reine pushing through, pulling Jeff behind. They emerged into the night. The other hotels were all a glow. She turned to him, "Stay here." She let his hand go and went to the valet. The valet hopped off, smiling. Less than a minute later he pulled up in a two-seat convertible. He climbed out and opened the door for her. She turned, "Well? What are you waiting for?" "You told me to wait," Jeff grumbled as he got into the car. "Oh, no, you aren't driving." "Yes I am!" "You are at least two sheeps to the wind." "You are the one who sound drunk. Trust me, I can hold my liquor. Besides, it's been quite a while. And I ate." His mind kept going back to her passed out in her ex-husband's apartment. "Right, you can hold your liquor." "Hold on, here we go." The car tore away from the hotel. "Where di you get this car?" "It was my uncle's. But I won it back in a game of blackjack." She smiled. With her hair floating behind her like that, she looked like Medusa, Jeff thought. But he kept it to himself, this time. "With Costello?" "Do I detect a note of Jealousy?" Jeff looked out at the passing buildings. "Where in the hell are you going?" "South. We have to get the hell out of dodge." She turned onto the interstate. "Get some sleep, Jeff, I can't drive forever." "How far south?" "Panama, where do you think? We are going to Mexico. Sleep. Now." "I can't, not until you tell me how you killed those men in Lansky's penthouse." "I didn't kill anyone, what are you talking about?" "Pull over." To be continued. ************************************************** Robyn Alyson tHe OnLy DiFfErEnCe BeTwEeN FaNtAsY aNd ReAlItY iS pErCePtIoN