didn't want the girl to know. It would have been all over Hollywood by dinnertime. “She's fine.”
“Who found her? The police?”
Faye shook her head. “Lionel.” There was a look of victory in her eyes as she watched his face go taut. “I'm going up there in two hours. If I can, I';ll bring her home tonight. You can stop by and see her tomorrow when she's had some sleep.”
He looked surprised at what she said. “Is there any reason why I can't come home tonight?”
Faye smiled a small bitter smile at that, and finally allowed her gaze to drift to the full-breasted girl sitting across from him.
“That's up to you. Tomorrow seems plenty of time to me.” She looked back at him then and he blushed beneath his white mane, and as she looked at him, she saw how much he had aged in the past six months. He was going to be fifty years old, but he looked older than that. He had been carousing with this girl, and drinking heavily for the last five months, and before that he had had two severe shocks. It had all taken a toll, but she didn't feel sorry for him. She had aged too, and he had done nothing for her. He had deserted her, and sought solace with this girl. She was almost sorry she hadn't done something like it herself, but she had been too worried about Lionel and Anne. She would have enjoyed an affair just then. But she'd have plenty of time for one now, and at forty-six she wasn't completely over the hill. She looked at him now with utter contempt. “I'll have Anne call you when we get back, if she wants to talk to you.” He looked horrified at the tone of her voice, the look in her eyes, and he glanced nervously at the buxom blonde, as Faye walked out of his office and closed the door. Outside his secretary was shredding a Kleenex waiting for him to come out and murder her, but Faye looked perfectly calm as she walked out and nodded to her and hurried down the hall. She had to be at the airport in an hour, and she was just throwing a toothbrush she kept in her desk into her handbag when Ward stormed in.
“Just what do you mean by all that shit?” His face was red, and she couldn't know that he had just told Carol to go home. She had left in tears, accusing him of dumping her, which he was considering seriously. He was still married to Faye, as far as he was concerned, although she seemed to have forgotten it. And the affair had been begun for “fun” supposedly and had gotten out of hand in the last few weeks.
Faye looked up at him disinterestedly. Part of it was an act, although part of it was for real. “I don't have time to talk to you. My flight is at three o'clock.”
“Fine. Then we can talk on the plane. I'll come up with you.”
“I don't need your help.” Her eyes were cold and his were sad.
“You never did. But she's my child too.” Faye was momentarily silenced by that.
She looked up at him finally, unable to resist the urge to hurt him again, he had already hurt her so much recently. “Are you bringing your friend?”
He looked down at his wife. “We have to talk about that one of these days.” She knew it too, and she nodded at him, but they didn't mean it quite the same way.
“I wanted to get things settled with Anne and Lionel, before I tackled you on that. But I guess in a few weeks, everything will be relatively normal again, as much as it ever will be. Ill have time to talk to a lawyer then.”
“Have you already made up your mind?” He looked depressed, but he wasn't surprised. He hadn't done anything to prevent her from deciding that, and it was probably too late now. He felt defeated by life. His marriage was over, his son was a queer, his daughter had run away from them, and God only knew what had happened to her since she had. It was devastating to contemplate it all, but Faye seemed unswayed by all of it. She was remarkable. She never drowned. She just kept swimming until she reached the shore again, and she looked as though she just had. He was happy for her. “I'm sorry it's come