George Benson 'This Is Jazz' [CD] { } ~54.00.00 40873

But the realities were imposing themselves. "Listen, I had better get dressed. Why don't you fix us another drink and put on some music? Be back in a few minutes, love, don't get started on anything without me." When she came back, wearing a loose silk shirt and baggy gaucho pants, a scarf tied around her long brown hair, the room was full of Nat King Cole and a fresh campari and soda was sitting on the bar. Caron remembered the days when she had to get piss-drunk before she had the nerve to try fucking, and she shook her head sadly. She drank a little now, not much, and only for socialization. "Cheers," she said, tilting her glass, while Nat King Cole sang "Nature Boy". Paul had turned her on to soft jazz, Cole, Ellington, Billie Holiday, George Benson. Something else she had to thank him for. "Oh," she said, a little sadly, "I think I hear Sheila's moped." "At least we're decent," Paul smiled. "But the room smells like a Chinese whorehouse." He touched her skin. "I happen to like Chinese whorehouses." She stood on tiptoes to kiss him, then settled back. "That's awfully loud for Sheila's moped," Caron observed. "It sounds more like a car." Paul went to the window and looked out. "It is," he said. "A red Volkswagen, with – California plates, I think." Caron stood up. "Oh, Good Christ," she moaned, "are those Goddamn Bible salesmen working the area again? Shit! There's the doorbell! Well, if it's a salesman, you can help me chase him off. Unless he's cute ...»