Jeff studied the woman he had waited a month to see.[...]

'Aren't you even curious about my interest?'

'Not particularly, Mr. Winston. Since the film opened in December, it's generated a great deal of interest in many quarters.' [...]

The woman was making this more difficult than he'd expected; he had no choice but to plunge ahead. 'What about Star Wars?' he asked. 'Will your company have a hand in that?'

Her green eyes narrowed. 'Rumors of upcoming films float around this town constantly, Mr. Winston. If I were you, I wouldn't listen to everything I hear around the pool at the Bel-Air.'

Might as well go all the way, Jeff thought. 'And Close Encounters?' he asked. 'I'm not sure whether Spielberg would even want to make that now - what do you think? It might seem like kind of a lame follow-up to Starsea.'

The anger hadn't left her eyes, but now it was joined by something else. She sat back down, stared at him cautiously. 'Where did you ever hear that title?'

He returned her steady gaze, sidestepped the question. 'Now, E.T.,' he said, conversationally, 'that's a different matter entirely. I don't see any conflict between the two. Same thing with Raiders of the Lost Ark, of course. Completely unrelated movie. First sequel to that one was lousy, though. Maybe you can talk to him about it.'

He had her full attention now. Her fingers nervously stroked her throat, and her face had lost all hint of any emotion but astonishment.

'Who are you?' Pamela Phillips asked in a low voice. 'Who the hell are you?'

'Funny,' Jeff smiled. 'I've been wondering the same thing about you.'