Track 8 - Sounds of Laughter

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In the dressing room a thickset man introduced himself to Lainey as Mal Evans. He had been charged with getting Lainey back to the hotel in an old white van packed with instruments and other band gear that the boys hadn't wanted to leave in the dressing room overnight.

Mal took her into a large suite on the third floor of the hotel where music was blaring and whiskey was flowing. Nearly a dozen pretty girls about Lainey's age were flitting around the room, most of them hanging onto a Beatle or one of the other performers.

Ringo was dancing with a tiny long-haired brunette, John was sitting on the sofa with a curvaceous blonde on his lap, George was leaning against one wall with a clump of girls hanging on his every word, and Paul was...nowhere to be seen.

Lainey covertly kept an eye on George, looking for an opportunity to strike. The moment came when George stepped away from the girls and sauntered over to a table laid out with bottles of Coca-Cola and Scotch. Lainey situated herself near his elbow, smiling up at him.

George shot her a startled look before glancing back to the glass in his hand.

"Hi, George! The show was great. I'm thrilled that I got to see it. Your guitar work was fantastic." Lainey inwardly cringed after adding that last bit, since truthfully she hadn't heard a note he played and it could have been crap for all she knew.

He nodded and said "Ta" so she relaxed. "Did you get hit in the eye with some of that candy the fans were throwing?" she asked.

He set down his drink. "Aye, did ye see that?" He pointed to his right eye. "I could lose an eye ye know. It's a load of bollocks. Yer playin' along and next thing ye know yer blind, aren't ye?"

"Yeah, that sucks." Over George's shoulder, Lainey saw Paul in the doorway with damp hair and a flushed face, scanning the crowd. His eyes met Lainey's and his mouth tightened as he headed her way.

With only seconds left before Paul reached them, Lainey plunged ahead. "So what are you doing later tonight? I was hoping I could talk to you about a mutual friend of ours—"

She broke off as Paul stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Everyone having a good time? Lainey, did you see the German wine I ordered? Let's get you a glass." With a firm hand on her shoulder, he steered her away from George and over to a table in the far corner of the room where a bottle of wine rested in a bucket on a handful of ice cubes.

"What are you doing?" Lainey hissed. "You know I need to talk to him!"

"Sure, sure, plenty of time for that. Let's have some wine and a dance first." Paul filled two glasses and heaved open a window, letting in the cool night air. "What did you think of the show?" A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Lainey took a sip of the wine and returned the smile. "My face must have said it all. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I don't know when I've been happier."

Paul glowed at her words. "What was your favorite part?"

"Everything was my favorite part. Your energy, your charisma, your stage presence...the four of you look like best mates having a blast up there, and it's simply magical. It was everything I expected, a once in a lifetime experience."

Paul's smile straightened. "It's not once in a lifetime at all. We're here for six days. You can see us every night, can't you?"

He was frowning down at her, his eyes challenging.

"Um...well...I hadn't thought about staying that long..." Lainey stammered, growing uncomfortable under the heat of his gaze. "...You see I was hoping to talk to George and John and then—"

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