make a complete ass of myself, I want you to tell me what in hell is going on. Who are you? An actor? A director? A gangster … did you use to own this place?” They were both laughing and he was enjoying the game much more than she was.
“How about a gigolo? How's that?”
“That's garbage, that's what that is. Come on, dammit, tell me. First of all, how do you know Rita Hayworth that well?”
“I used to play tennis with her husband. And actually, I met them here.”
“As a waiter, right?” She was amused now. This anonymous soldier she had met in Guadalcanal had a lot of spirit to him. But she was dying to know more. She forced him to look her in the eye and attempted not to laugh. “Now stop it. Here I am feeling sorry for you taking me out to dinner, embarrassed at having you see my house, and you know lots more important people than I do.”
“That's not what I hear, pretty one.”
“Oh really?” She blushed, and tossed her hair off her shoulders.
“What about Gable?” The blush grew deeper.
“Don't believe everything you read in the papers.”
“Just some things. And that I heard from some of my good friends.”
“I haven't seen him in years.” She attempted to look vague and Ward was too much of a gentleman to press it. And suddenly she looked into his eyes again. “Now don't try and sidetrack me, dammit. Who are you?”
He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. “The Lone Ranger.” She laughed at him and the headwaiter approached their table with a huge bottle of champagne and the menus.
“Welcome home, Mr. Thayer. It's good to have you back.”
“Thank you.” He ordered dinner for them both, toasted her with the champagne, and proceeded to tease her for the rest of the evening, until finally they sat in the open Ford outside her front door, and he earnestly took her hand in his own. “Seriously, Faye, I am an unemployed soldier. I don't have a job, and didn't have one before I left. I don't even have an apartment anymore, I gave it up when I was drafted. And they know me at Ciro's because I used to go there a lot before the war. I don't want to pretend I'm anyone important. I'm not. You're the star, and I've been nuts about you since the day I met you, but I'd be lying to you if I pretended to be someone I'm not. I'm just who you think I am, Ward Thayer … a man with no home, no job, and a borrowed car.”
She smiled gently at him. If it was true, she didn't give a damn. She hadn't had as nice an evening in years. She enjoyed being with him. He was bright and fun and good-looking. He danced like a dream and there was something so warm and virile and exciting about him. He was knowledgeable on subjects she had never dreamt of, and he was different from all the men she'd known over the years. He didn't have that empty Hollywood superficiality about him although everyone certainly seemed to know him. “I had a wonderful time, whoever you are.” It was almost two o'clock, and she didn't even want to think about how she would feel in the morning. She had to get up in less than three hours.
“Tomorrow night then?” Ward looked hopeful, and suddenly very young as she smiled at him and shook her head.
“I can't, Ward. I'm a working girl. I have to get up at a quarter to five every morning.”
“Until when?”
“Until we finish the picture.”
He looked crestfallen. Maybe she hadn't had a good time after all. And after two years spent dreaming of her, he desperately wanted her to have a good time when she was with him. He wanted to take her out every night, and wine her and dine her, and sweep her off her feet as never before. He didn't want to wait patiently on the sidelines while she finished her movie.
“Hell, I'm not going to wait that long. How about you get a good night's sleep tomorrow night, and we go out again after that?” He glanced at his watch. “And I won't keep you out so late next time. I didn't realize how late it had gotten.” His eyes sought hers and his voice was deep and gentle. “I had a wonderful time, Faye.” He was head over heels in love with her