“Faye.” He sat back and looked at her. “I love my life. I've had a good time ever since I was a kid. And when my father died, I told myself that I would never work myself into the ground like he did. He was forty-six when he died, of a heart attack. My mother was forty-three. I think she just worried herself to death about him. They never took a minute to do what they wanted to, to have a good time, hell, they never even spent any time with me. And I swore to myself that when I had kids one day, and even long before that, I wouldn't live like that. There's no reason to. I couldn't spend all that money if I tried, to be vulgar about it,” which he seldom was, as Faye knew, but he was being honest with her and she valued that. It gave her good insight into him. “My grandfather did the same damn thing, died at fifty-six of overwork. So what? Who cares how hard you worked when you die. I want to enjoy life while I'm here and I am enjoying it. Let them say what they want to. Let them call me what they want. I'm not going to drop dead from a heart attack at forty-five, or be a stranger to my wife and kids. I'm going to be right there, enjoying life with them, knowing who they are, and letting them know me. I never even knew who my father was, Faye. He was a stranger to me. Like you, I see life divided in two roads. The life they lived that I don't ever want to live, and the one I'm living now, and this one suits me just fine. And I hope to hell it doesn't bother you.” He looked deep into her eyes and took a deep breath. “Of course, if you want me to, I could always get a job.”
She looked at him in shock before she answered. He was serious about all this. But how could he be after just three days? “You don't have to get a job for me, Ward. What right could I possibly have to ask you to do that?” And if he could afford his lifestyle, why should he do anything differently?
He wasn't hurting anyone with the way he lived. She looked at him and spoke softly. “I can't believe you're serious about all this.” Their eyes held for a long time as he nodded, and then silently he led her to the floor and they danced for a long time, without saying a word. And when he led her back to the table, he watched her, wondering if he had upset her and praying that he hadn't.
“Are you all right, Faye?” She was suddenly very pensive, and he was concerned that he had frightened her by telling her what was on his mind.
“I don't know.” She looked at him honestly. “I think you've taken my breath away with all that.”
“Good.” He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders, admiring again the navy satin backless dress she wore. She had a flair for dressing with subtle sensuality in a way that pleased him immensely, and he was dying to buy her clothes and jewelry and furs.
For the rest of the evening, they kept to lighter subjects, Faye trying to pretend to herself that he hadn't bared his heart already, and he seemed even happier than before, to know that she knew what he felt for her. After dinner, he drove her back to her place, and this time she invited him for a glass of cognac, although she was almost afraid to. She knew his thoughts now, and she wondered if it was dangerous to let him inside. And then as she poured his drink, she laughed at herself. Hell, he wasn't going to rape her. She handed him the glass and he wondered at her smile.
“You're so lovely, Faye … even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“You need to have your eyes checked.” His praise embarrassed her at times, it was so lavish, and his adoration of her was so clearly written in his eyes. He was a carefree, happy man, with few disappointments and no current worries, and he was clearly very much in love. “What are you doing tomorrow?” She said it just to have something to say and he laughed.
“I'll tell you one thing I'm not doing. I'm not working.” In some ways, he was shameless about it and it amused her. He had certainly told her all he felt on the subject at dinner, but it was almost as if he were proud of not working. He didn't even mind being called “the playboy millionaire.” “I wish you weren't working on a movie just now, Faye. We could go out and play.” She could just imagine the trouble they would get into. Lazy afternoons on the beach, days of expensive shopping, maybe a trip or two. She had to admit, the prospect was almost appealing, but she wouldn't even let herself dream about that yet. “I'd like to take you to the Casino at Avalon Bay one of these nights, but we'd have to spend the night on Catalina Island. I don't suppose you'll have a weekend off, will you?”
Sadly, she shook her head. “Not till the film is over.” She smiled at him over their cognac, smelling the heady aroma, and thinking of all the fun things they had in store.
“There are a lot of places I'd like to take you … Paris … Venice … Cannes…. Now that the war is over, we can go anywhere we want.”
