“I don't suppose our being here will go unnoticed tonight. Charlie may call the papers himself, you know.” Ward looked concerned. “Do you mind very much, Faye?” He suspected she hadn't been pleased with the photograph that had appeared on page four of the L.A. Times that day, showing them leaving the Beverly Hills Hotel after cocktails the night before and running for the safety of her car.

But she only smiled at him. “I get the feeling, Ward, that you don't know how to be invisible.” They both knew it was the truth. “And actually, I'm not really sure I care. Neither of us has anything to hide. And it would have been nice to maintain our privacy, but it looks like that isn't in the cards for either of us.” She had thought about it a lot the night before, and decided what the hell, they had nothing to hide.

“I've never worried about it much before.” He sipped the sparkling wine. He always drank gallons of champagne, it seemed to be almost a trademark with him. “That's just the way things are.” … if you're the heir to a shipyard fortune, she thought, and drive a custom-built Duesenberg…. And suddenly she laughed.

“Little did I know, when I met that nice young lieutenant in Guadalcanal, that he was spoiled rotten to the core, and used to hanging out in a lot of fancy watering holes and drinking rivers of champagne….” She teased him and he didn't seem to mind, it was all true, yet there was a great deal more to him. In some ways, he knew that the war had done him good. They were the hardest four years of his life, and he had proved something to himself, that he could survive almost anything, hardship, danger, misery, discomfort. For all four years, he had never once traded on his connections or his name, although of course there were those who knew who he was.

And then there had been the girl he had married. At first, he had thought he would never recover when she'd been killed.

It had been a reality he had never faced before, and a grief almost beyond bearing. And now there was Faye with all her magic and her glamour, and underlying it her keen sense of reality, and her enormous talent. He was glad Faye hadn't known who he was at first. She might have felt differently if she had, might have thought he was frivolous. And he was at times, he liked to have fun. But he was capable of seriousness too, as Faye was beginning to discover. There were so many dimensions to the man, as there were to her. And together they were quite a combination. They each liked the other for what they were, not for what they had. They were a good match in a lot of ways, as Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons both quickly noticed.

“What are your lifetime goals, Miss Price?” Ward teased her over their fourth glass of champagne, although he seemed to be feeling no effect from it, but Faye knew she'd have to slow down or she'd get drunk, and that was something she never did. “What do you want to be doing ten years from now?” He seemed serious as he asked and she knit her brows and looked at him. It was an interesting question.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course.”

“I'm not sure. When I think about things like that, I always see two possibilities, like two roads with two very different destinations, and I'm never sure which one I'll take.”

“And where do those two roads go?” He was intrigued by what she said, he was intrigued by everything about her now, even more so than he had been before.

“One road represents all this,” she looked briefly around the room before glancing back at him, “the same people, places, things … my career … more films … more fame,” she was being very honest with him, “more of the same, I guess …” Her voice trailed off.

“And the other road?” He gently took her hand. “Where does that one go, Faye?” The room faded around them as he spoke and she looked into his eyes. There was something there she wanted very much, and she wasn't sure yet what it was. “The other road … ?”

“It goes to a very different place … a husband … children … a life far, far from all this … more like the life I had as a little girl. I can't really imagine it anymore, but I know the possibility is there, if I wanted to make that choice. But that's a hard choice to make.” She looked honestly at him.

“You don't think you could have both?”

She shook her head. “I doubt it very much. The two don't mix. Look at the way I work. I'm up at five, gone by six. I don't come home until seven or eight o'clock at night. What man would put up with that? And I've seen Hollywood marriages come and go for years. We all know what that's like. That's not what I want if I settle down.”

“What do you want, Faye … if you settle down, I mean?”

She smiled at him. It was a funny conversation for them to have on their third date. But she was beginning to feel she knew him well. They had seen each other three times in three days, and something strange had happened to them in Guadalcanal so long ago. It was as though a bond had formed and strengthened silently over the years, and it was still between them now, holding them fast, bringing them closer than they might have been had they just met. She thought about his words again.

“I guess I'd want stability, a marriage that would last for years and years, with a man I'd love and respect, and children of course.”

“How many?” He grinned at her and she laughed again.

“Oh, twelve at least.” She was teasing now.

“As many as all that … good lord … how about five or six?”

“That might do.”

“Sounds like a good life to me.”

“It does to me too, but I still can't imagine it.” She sighed.

“Is your career that important to you?”

“I'm not sure. I've worked awfully hard at it for six years. That might be difficult to give up … or maybe not….” Suddenly she laughed. “Enough movies like the one I'm working on and maybe I'd give it all up like that.” She snapped her fingers and then he took her hand in his again.

“I'd like to see you give it all up one day.” His face was suddenly so serious that it startled her.

“Why?”

“Because I'm in love with you, and I like that second road you described. That's the fulfilling one. The first road is a road to loneliness. But I think you already know that.” She nodded slowly and stared at him. Was he proposing to her? He couldn't be. She wasn't sure what to say, and slowly she drew her hand away.

“You just got home, Ward. Everything looks different to you right now. You're going to be very emotional for a while….” She wanted to discourage him. It was only right. He was moving too quickly … for heaven's sake, she barely knew him, and yet it felt like a time which might never come again and they were both still under the spell of his surviving the war. The magic of wartime was still there for them both, and yet this was very real. And very special.

He retrieved her hand again and kissed her fingertips. “I'm serious, Faye. I've never felt like this in my life. And I knew it the minute we met in Guadalcanal. I just didn't know what to say to you there. For all I knew I'd be dead the next day. But I'm not, and I'm home, and you're the most incredible woman I've ever known….”

“How can you say a thing like that?” She looked upset and he wanted to hold her in his arms, but he didn't dare, not in the middle of the restaurant, with the photographers possibly lurking nearby, and everyone anxious to report what they'd seen. “You don't even know me, Ward. You saw me perform for two hours in Guadalcanal … we talked for half an hour afterwards … we've seen each other twice since you got back….” She wanted to discourage him now, before it was too late but she wasn't even sure why. It's just that it all seemed to be going so fast, and yet she had this incredible feeling about him, as though she could have walked off into the sunset with him that night, hand in hand, and everything would have been all right for the rest of their lives. But it didn't happen like that. Did it? It couldn't … or maybe it did … maybe that was “the real thing” that everyone talks about. “It's too soon, Ward.”

'Too soon for what?” He looked matter-of-fact. “Too soon to tell you I'm in love with you? Well, maybe it is. But the fact is, Faye, I am. I've been in love with you for years.”

“Then it's an illusion.”

“No, it's not. You are exactly who I sensed you were. You are smart and realistic and practical. You are modest and warm and funny and beautiful. You don't give a damn who the press agents say you are. As far as you're concerned, you like what you do, you work hard. You are the most decent woman I've ever met, and what's more you're good at what you do, because of all of the above … and if I don't drag you out of here and kiss you in the next five minutes, I'm going to go nuts, Faye Price, so just shut up, or I'll kiss you right here!”

Her eyes were worried, but she couldn't help smiling at him. “What if you figure out that you hate me in six months?”

“Why should I?”

“I probably have habits you'd detest. Ward, I'm telling you, you don't know who I am. And I don't know you.”

“Fine. Then we'll get to know each other.” But he had already tipped his hand to her and he didn't care. “But I'm going to glue myself to you and drive you nuts till you say yes.” He looked completely satisfied with what he had just said, and drained his glass of champagne with a contented look, and then set it down and looked at her. “All right with you?”

“Would it make a difference if I said no?”

“Not a bit.” It was the grin she had already come to love, the mischievous spark in the deep blue eyes. He was difficult to resist, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to. She just wanted them both to be sensible. She had had romances with other men before, though admittedly none were quite like him. But she didn't want to be one of those women the press wrote about constantly, in love with this one, engaged to that one, and in the end it all amounted to their being used up, like tired old Hollywood whores. She still cared about things like that, which was another thing he liked about her. In fact, he was convinced that he liked everything, and she suspected the same about him, but she wasn't about to give in, certainly not after three days.