‘“FAREWELL”?’ echoed Beth in consternation.
‘Yes,’ agreed Daniel with a shrug. ‘After all, that’s what you want, isn’t it? The fashion show is over, so there’s no real need for us to see each other ever again. Is there?’
Beth stared at him with a sudden acute sense of dismay. She felt devastated. Deep inside her there was a frozen sensation of pain and disbelief, along with a feeling of unfinished business. Of course she wasn’t in love with Daniel, but she had somehow thought there would be more quarrels, plans, shared endeavours ahead of them. Now she felt almost cheated to discover that she was wrong.
‘No, I suppose not,’ she agreed bleakly.
Daniel smiled at her. His momentary anger seemed to have vanished and it was hard to believe that he had gazed at her so stormily only moments before.
‘Well, then, a farewell dinner seems in order, doesn’t it?’ he continued. ‘It’s been a pleasant relationship, so it’s only right to mark the end of it, wouldn’t you say?’
Beth stared mutely back at him, hating him. Obviously he didn’t feel any of the bittersweet torment that engulfed her at the thought of parting. But pride forced her to wear a false smile.
‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed, and was furious to hear a tremor in her voice.
‘Good,’ said Daniel briskly. ‘Then I’ll book a table at Emilio’s.’
Some of Beth’s tension slowly ebbed away. At least he hadn’t noticed her agitation, she thought, watching him stride across to the table and pick up the phone. But, if he really cared about her, he would have noticed, wouldn’t he? Well, she’d been a fool to think that his kisses meant anything, but all she could do now was try and salvage her pride. Go to this wretched dinner and show him that she could be just as casual and blasé as he was. And then part with him forever. The deceitful, smooth-talking beast!
‘Right. Emilio’s at eight o’clock,’ announced Daniel, hanging up the receiver. ‘I’ve got to go out on business now, but I’ll be back at seven-thirty to pick you up.’
Left alone, Beth sank on to the sofa with a groan. She should have been enthralled at the success of the show, but instead she felt too drained to appreciate it. Anger, confusion and dismay threatened to overwhelm her and, in a muddled way, it all seemed to be centred on Daniel. Yet there was also the problem of her relationship with Warren to tackle and at the moment she felt quite unable to face it. Shaking her head, she decided to go and have a hot bath. If Warren phoned, she would simply have to talk to him and decide where the relationship was going, but she dreaded the encounter. Fortunately, even though she left her bathroom door open while she soaked in a tub of hot water, she did not hear the telephone ring. At last, dressed in a comfortable towelling tracksuit, she lay down on her bed and fell asleep.
It was just after seven o’clock when she was woken by a knock on her bedroom door. Sleepily she sat up.
‘Warren?’ she said.
The answer came back, infuriatingly cheerful.
‘No, it’s Daniel. Time to get dressed, sweetheart.’
Sweetheart, thought Beth indignantly. I’m not your sweetheart and I never will be. Yet she dressed carefully in one of the outfits from her collection. An attractive cocktail dress in a clinging blue chiffon woven with silver thread, a wide silver belt and matching silver shoes. Daniel said nothing when she emerged from her room, but his eyes roved over her body with an unmistakable spark of admiration. Beth felt a confused rush of pleasure and annoyance and tried not to look too closely at him. He was wearing a black dinner suit, immaculate white shirt and black tie and he exuded a smouldering aura of sensuality. Stay calm, she ordered herself frantically. Don’t let him upset you. Just remember that this is Hollywood and you’re just as sophisticated and glitzy as he is!
Emilio’s proved to be a glamorous restaurant on Melrose Avenue. As they entered the downstairs dining-room, Beth heard the splash of running water and gazed in awe at a miniature Trevi Fountain bathed in coloured lights. All around them were marble columns, brick archways, stained-glass windows and gilt-framed oil paintings. But before she could linger very long admiring the décor a smiling waiter came to greet them and led them upstairs to the cedar-panelled balcony.
Once they were settled in the candlelit booth, the waiter whipped out his pad and pencil and looked questioningly at Daniel.
‘A pre-dinner drink, sir?’ he suggested.
Daniel glanced at Beth. ‘I think some champagne would be in order. Do you agree?’
‘Yes, please,’ she said as casually as if she drank champagne every night of the week.
‘A bottle of Veuve Clicquot,’ added Daniel.
Within moments the waiter returned with an ornate silver ice-bucket and two long-stemmed glasses. There was a discreet pop, a trail of vapour and then when both glasses were filled the waiter withdrew, leaving them alone.
‘Well,’ said Daniel, raising his glass, ‘here’s to us!’
Beth looked at him doubtfully, her heart beginning to hammer. There was something uncomfortably intimate about the wording of that, particularly when they were sitting here in a secluded booth lit by the soft glow of candles. But it seemed ridiculous to protest. After all, she was sophisticated and worldly, wasn’t she?
‘All right,’ she said huskily. ‘To us.’
As always, the dry, fizzy taste of the champagne gave her a feeling of dizzy exhilaration. She felt her cheeks flushing as she set down the glass and wondered whether it was her imagination or whether Daniel really was looking at her with keen, scrutinising urgency. She wondered even more when he reached inside his dinner-jacket and pulled out a long manila envelope which he laid on the table. Twisting her head slightly, she saw that her own name was typed on the front of it.
‘What’s that?’ she asked in bewilderment, reaching for it.
But he seized her outstretched fingers and set them down on the table.
‘Later,’ he warned. ‘It’s just a legal document I had my attorneys prepare about our business relationship.’
‘Oh,’ murmured Beth.
She felt confused, slightly hurt and yet very, very curious. No doubt it was just some document arranging for her to make formal repayment of all the expenses of getting her fashion collection ready on time. If Daniel never intended to see her again after tonight, he would certainly want to know that his investment was safe. But she couldn’t help feeling slightly aggrieved that he needed to make sure of her in this way. Couldn’t he have just trusted her to pay him back?
‘I did intend to pay you back as soon as I possibly could,’ she said rather stiffly.
His dark eyes glinted.
‘I’m sure you did,’ he purred. ‘But, if I can have you legally tied down by the terms agreed to in that document, I’d feel much happier about our whole relationship. Now, would you like to order some food?’
Beth flashed him a stormy look but accepted the leather-covered menu and stared down at it sightlessly. The words ‘farewell dinner’ kept ringing in her head and it was two or three minutes before her tempestuous feelings calmed enough to let her concentrate. Even then she found herself frowning in perplexity over the unfamiliar items.
‘I’ll have the stru—stra—the chicken and egg soup,’ she said. ‘And then the veal dish with the fried potatoes and salad. I can’t say it, the one with lemon.’
Daniel’s lips twitched.
‘Piccata al limone,’ he replied. ‘A good choice.’
While they waited for the food to arrive, they chatted about the fashion show earlier in the day and the rooftop lunch, but Beth did not mention the two people who were most on her mind from that lunchtime meeting: Warren and Sunny. And neither did Daniel. Only when the last delicious mouthful of chicken soup had been swallowed did the conversation become more personal, and even then it took an unexpected turn.
‘Were your parents happily married?’ asked Daniel abruptly.
Beth stared at him with a startled expression.
‘What on earth does that have to do with anything?’ she demanded.
‘More than you might think,’ said Daniel cryptically. ‘Come on, tell me. Were they?’
Beth frowned, casting her mind back to the small terraced house on the Rocks at Woolloomooloo where she had spent her childhood. A vivid rush of memory brought back her father’s angry, querulous voice as her mother came in exhausted from the factory and began preparing tea. She sighed.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘In a way I suppose they were. They stayed married for thirty-three years until he died two years ago.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,’ retorted Daniel. ‘It might just mean that they had no choice. Nowhere else to go. But how did they act towards each other? Were they warm, affectionate, appreciative?’
Beth coiled one of her curls restlessly around her index finger and then let it go.
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘My father was rather horrible to my mother, actually. From what my older sister says, he was always pretty short-tempered. The kind of man who loses his temper over nothing. And after the accident he complained all the time. Even though he was in a wheelchair, there were a lot of things that he could have done, but he wouldn’t. He never did anything to help my mother and he never appreciated anything she did for him. She just ran around all the time working her fingers to the bone and waiting on him, while he grumbled that the service wasn’t up to standard.’
Daniel leaned back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully.
‘Yes, that fits,’ he murmured.
‘Fits what?’ demanded Beth in annoyance. ‘Whatever are you talking about?’
Daniel’s dark eyes narrowed and he smiled unpleasantly. ‘It explains the way you behave with Warren,’ he said. ‘Obviously your role model was your mother. Always anxious to please and never succeeding.’
‘That wasn’t my role model!’ protested Beth hotly, and then bit her lip, an uneasy sensation stirring inside her. The thought had never occurred to her before but was Daniel right? Had it been? Defensively she hit back.
‘Why can’t you just make polite conversation like normal people?’ she demanded.
‘I hate polite conversation! It’s boring and meaningless.’
‘Maybe. But why do you want to know all these odd things about me?’
Daniel shrugged. ‘Everybody is moulded by their childhood. I always found when I was dealing with actors that if I could unlock their past I could understand everything about them.’
‘Like some kind of party trick?’ snapped Beth. ‘Well, two can play at that game. What about your parents? Were they happily married?’
Daniel smiled faintly.
‘My parents?’ he echoed. ‘No. My parents weren’t happily married, they were happily divorced.’
‘Oh,’ said Beth, taken aback. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ replied Daniel. ‘It’s not an issue for me now, although it was when I was a kid. I remember being very lonely in that big house in Boston with only my father for occasional company.’
She had intended only to hit back, but she found herself suddenly intrigued.
‘Your father?’ she echoed, wrinkling her nose. ‘Why didn’t you stay with your mother? Didn’t she want you?’
Daniel’s eyes took on an expression that made Beth flinch. Hard, ruthless, unforgiving.
‘Oh, she wanted me,’ he growled. ‘But there was a messy custody battle and my father won. He had the money to win.’
‘Do you ever see her now?’
The smouldering glint went out of Daniel’s eyes and he gave a twisted smile.
‘Yes, I do,’ he agreed. ‘She married again, an assistant professor of history in Iowa, and I have two half-brothers in their early twenties. They’re a nice family, but in a way they’re not my family, not the way they would have been if I’d grown up with them. But that’s all right.’
Something in his tone told Beth that it wasn’t all right, that there was still a lot of pent-up anger raging inside him.
‘You really hate your father, don’t you?’ said Beth without thinking.
His reaction was immediate, hostile and uncompromising.
‘Don’t be a fool!’ he snapped. ‘That would be giving him far too much importance. But I did hate his values. Money and power were the only things he ever cared about. That, and getting people to do what he wanted. He loved to be in control of things.’
Beth’s forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. ‘How strange,’ she murmured.
‘Why? What’s strange about it?’
She gave an embarrassed shrug. ‘Nothing. Except that he sounds exactly like you.’
Daniel stared at her in outrage. ‘Like me?’ he snarled. ‘That’s ridiculous! He was nothing like me.’
Beth remained silent, but continued to watch him with a small, infuriating smile.
‘Look,’ insisted Daniel angrily, ‘I got out from under my father’s thumb at the first opportunity! When I was a teenager I made a vow that I was going to make so much money of my own that he’d never be able to control me again.’
‘And did you?’ asked Beth. ‘Or—’ She broke off, suddenly realising that what she had been about to ask was in extraordinarily bad taste. After all, it was none of her business whether Daniel had made his obvious wealth himself or inherited it from his father. But she had become absorbed by his story and wanted to know how it ended.
‘Or did Daddy put a silver spoon in my mouth?’ finished Daniel mockingly. ‘No, Beth, Daddy didn’t. When I dropped out of Harvard law school at age nineteen, Daddy washed his hands of me. He swore I’d never have another penny out of him and I haven’t.’
‘Nineteen?’ echoed Beth. ‘That’s young. What did you do? Go and live with your mother?’
Daniel shook his head impatiently.
‘No, I didn’t want to be a burden to her. I hitch-hiked to Hollywood, of course. Just what any red-blooded kid would do. I wanted to be in the movies.’
‘As an actor?’ asked Beth.
‘No, an actor doesn’t have enough control over things. I wanted to be a producer and director.’
Beth smiled mockingly.
‘I see,’ she murmured. ‘You wanted control, did you?’
The unspoken words ‘like your father’ hovered in the air, but Daniel successfully read her mind.
‘No, not like my father!’ he exploded. ‘Now do you want to hear about this or not?’
‘All right, go on,’ Beth invited peaceably. ‘So you arrived in Hollywood, walked into MGM and said, “I’d like to produce and direct a movie for you,” did you?’
Daniel rubbed his forehead as if he were smoothing away a tension headache.
‘Well, no, it wasn’t quite that easy,’ he admitted. ‘For two years I worked nights in a hamburger joint as a short-order cook. And in the daytime I worked as an extra on the studio lots whenever I could get hired.’
‘Short-order cook?’ asked Beth.
‘Oh, yes,’ agreed Daniel with a short laugh. ‘I used to cook a mean hamburger, although it wasn’t the sort of talent to impress anyone.’
There was a bitterness in his tone that was oddly jarring. Beth looked at him curiously.
‘Were you trying to impress someone?’ she asked.
But at that moment the waiter arrived and began setting a plate of fragrant veal and lemon in front of Beth, accompanied by fried potatoes and salad. Daniel looked at the food with relief and shook his head.
‘I don’t know how the hell you got me started on all that,’ he grumbled, picking up his fork. ‘I don’t usually bore people by telling them the story of my life.’
‘I wasn’t bored,’ insisted Beth.
All the same, she had the feeling that Daniel was glad of the interruption. It’s all very well when he’s the one firing the questions, she thought shrewdly, but not when he’s in the hot seat. It makes him feel too vulnerable. But why? What’s he hiding under that all-powerful exterior? Daniel did not speak again until they had both embarked on their main courses. And he seemed to have changed his mind about the boredom of polite conversation. The words ‘perfect host’ suddenly seemed to be tattooed across his forehead.
‘How’s the food?’ he asked solicitously.
‘Great,’ said Beth with a faint sigh.
She knew instinctively that his guard was now up, yet somehow she felt as reluctant to drop their earlier discussion as she had been to embark on it. It had been fascinating to learn about Daniel’s youth. And, although he had been rather wary, he hadn’t bragged about things the way Warren always did. She remembered Warren showing her a photo album of family holidays. ‘This is Mother in Monte Carlo, this is me skiing in Gstaad, this is my sister Alison at the Cannes Film Festival.’ Every word was designed to impress, but Daniel hadn’t done that. He had simply shared his feelings with her. She tried to push away her regret that the moment of intimacy was over and simply enjoy her meal. At first she was successful. The veal was melting and delicious with its lemony cream sauce and the crispy fried potatoes rich with bacon and parsley, not to mention the refreshing green salad. But almost at once Daniel spoiled her appetite.
‘Why did you ever get involved with Warren?’ he demanded suddenly. ‘Surely those boyish good looks weren’t enough to lure you in, especially when they’re not even accompanied by boyish charm?’
Beth flushed.
‘His looks had nothing to do with it,’ she retorted.
But even as she spoke she knew it wasn’t quite true. Warren’s looks had formed a part, although only a very small part, of her complex reasons for becoming involved with him. Her eyes took on a tormented expression as she cast her mind back to that time three years ago. She remembered it all so vividly. Her brother Andrew, newly qualified as a doctor, had insisted on paying for a really slap-up twenty-first birthday party for her and his girlfriend Sue had entered into the spirit of things by offering her parents’ home as a venue. They were away overseas. What could be more suitable? But Beth had found herself in the embarrassing position of not having enough guests to invite to the party. Being hard-working and rather shy, she only had four or five close friends and to bolster the numbers she had impulsively asked Warren. After all they had worked together on a third-term project and knew each other slightly. But there certainly hadn’t been any great romance. Not then. And if it hadn’t been for a deeply disturbing incident at the party she might never have got to know Warren any better.
At the moment when her mother was already halfway through lighting candles on the cake someone had realised that Beth’s brother-in-law, Greg, was missing. She remembered how she had offered to go and fetch him and then had frugally blown out the candles that were already lit. It was rather like an omen when you thought about it. As if only half her wishes were going to come true. What had she wished for, anyway? Love? Success? She could no longer remember. But she did remember finding Greg in the rumpus-room which opened out on to the swimming-pool on the lower level of the house. He was alone and must have just come out of the pool, for his body was streaming with water and he was clad only in bathing trunks. An unwilling pang of desire had shot through her at the sight of that dark, powerful figure and she was conscious of an unwelcome tremor in her voice when she spoke.
‘Greg, we’re ready to cut the cake now.’
He had smiled at her slowly, lazily.
‘Well, good. Do I get a kiss from the birthday girl then?’
Before she had time to protest he had swept her into his arms and kissed her. Not on the cheek but full on her open mouth. And to Beth’s horror for the merest fraction of a second she had responded, kissing him back with inexperienced fervour. A moment later, hating herself, she had broken away, flushed and trembling. Bolting back up the stairs, she had run straight into Warren who had come to look for her. Warren had seemed so safe, so normal, unthreatening. Somehow it had all started from that moment. Daniel’s harsh voice broke into her thoughts.
‘I asked you why you became involved with Warren,’ he said.
She took in a swift, unsteady breath.
‘Because he seemed safe,’ she replied.
‘Safe,’ mocked Daniel. ‘That seems an odd reason to start a relationship. Unless—’ His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Unless you were on the rebound from somebody totally unsafe.’ Too shocked even to lie, Beth cast him a stricken look. ‘How did you guess?’ she whispered.
His laugh was nothing but a mirthless growl. ‘You forget that I spent years as a film director,’ he replied. ‘In that job you learn to read people’s faces. Bodies are often more honest than speech and your body tells me something that you don’t even want to admit to yourself.’
‘What’s that?’ queried Beth unwisely.
Daniel caught her fingers in a merciless grip and held them.
‘That you’re not the kind of woman who was born to live safely,’ he retorted. ‘You’re a person who was born to take risks, to live life to the full. You’re doing violence to your own nature by staying with a pathetic creature like Warren.’
Beth snatched away her fingers as if they had been burned. ‘Surely that’s for me to decide?’ she snapped.
Daniel’s expression was as brooding as a thundercloud. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ he muttered.
‘But you don’t have anything to do with it, do you? It’s none of your damned business.’
Daniel changed his tack. Helping himself to more salad, he eyed her thoughtfully under lowered lids.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘how do you like the United States?’
Beth consciously had to take a deep breath and relax. She realised that her body was tensed up ready for fight or flight and instead he had suddenly thrown a simple question at her. So simple that it was unexpected. She shrugged expressively.
‘Well, what I’ve seen of it is very nice, which isn’t much. I haven’t even been to Disneyland yet. But I think California is wonderful. I love the climate and in many ways it reminds me of home. And the people are really friendly and dynamic. I think it’s a great place.’
‘Would you ever consider living here?’
The question shot out so rapidly that it took her by surprise. For a moment a wild thought rose in her head only to be instantly dismissed.
‘You mean for business reasons?’ she asked.
Daniel smiled thinly. ‘All right, let’s say for business reasons. Would you consider living here?’
Beth turned the idea over. ‘Yes, I think I’d probably enjoy it,’ she admitted. ‘If I were earning enough to live comfortably.’
‘You wouldn’t miss your family?’ asked Daniel.
She smiled affectionately. ‘Not if I could see them at least once a year,’ she agreed. ‘My mother is retired now and Andrew bought her a home unit down at Cronulla near the beach. She’s got a life of her own, going to bowls and doing things with Kerry’s children. And I’m fond of my sister and brother but we never really spent a great deal of time together. Yes, I think if the chance came my way I’d jump at it. After all, the United States is one of the most important fashion places in the world.’
‘And fashion is what you care about most?’ asked Daniel.
Beth’s eyes clouded.
‘It is at the moment,’ she agreed. ‘You see, I have to earn my living and I really like to do the very best I can at anything I tackle. But putting it like that gives it far too much importance somehow. I mean, you’d have to be an awfully superficial person to think that fashion was the most important thing in your life, wouldn’t you?’
Daniel shot her a piercing look.
‘So what do you think ought to be the most important thing your life?’ he demanded.
Beth wriggled, feeling uncomfortable at this inquisition. But the steadiness of his gaze demanded an answer.
‘I don’t know. A home, a family if I ever had one,’ she replied huskily. ‘I can’t think of anything much more important than that.’
His eyes strayed to the mysterious envelope on the table. ‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ he said mockingly. ‘You sound like a positive paragon of womanhood.’
She dropped her gaze, hating him for making fun of her, hating herself for giving him the opportunity. With a vague feeling of surprise she realised that her plate was empty.
‘Would you like a pudding?’ asked Daniel.
‘I suppose so,’ she agreed in a subdued voice.
The zabaglione was heavenly, a warm, bittersweet froth of Marsala and beaten egg yolk. And the cappuccino which followed it was equally good with its thick, creamy layer of foam and chocolate. But Beth barely tasted them. The thought that she was never going to see Daniel again cast a shadow over the meal, because the truth was that she would miss him. And in some ways the most hurtful feature of this dinner was the manila envelope which lay between them on the table like the boundary marker in a tug-o’-war. Somehow it reduced all that had happened between them to a sterile business transaction, and Beth could not help finding her gaze drawn towards it with a mixture of resentment and fascination. At last, when the empty cups had been removed, Daniel picked it up and handed it to her.
His eyes were dark, piercing, inescapable. She felt they were boring right through to her soul. Try as she might, she could not turn away.
‘I said this was a farewell dinner,’ he said. ‘But it doesn’t have to be a farewell. It’s up to you.’
An incredulous joy flooded through her, followed rapidly by suspicion and misgiving.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded sharply.
‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ he said.
‘What kind of a proposition?’
‘Have a look through the letter and the documents and then I’ll explain everything.’
With trembling fingers she opened the envelope and scanned its contents. It was written on the letterhead of a firm of lawyers and it began with the words ‘Dear Miss Saxon’, but after that it was such gibberish that it might as well have been written in Greek. Full of words like ‘whereas’ and ‘heretofore’. With a puzzled sound she put the letter at the back and looked through the accompanying documents. It was some kind of contract. But her head swam when she tried to understand it. An incredulous notion rose in her head.
‘You mean you want to go into business with me formally?’ she asked. ‘Employ me and eventually form a company? Called Solo Designs?’
Daniel nodded.
‘But why?’ demanded Beth. ‘And how? Wouldn’t I have to get a work permit? And what if I went broke? You’d lose heaps of money. And where could I make the clothes? I can’t keep living at your place forever.’
Daniel smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes which were lit with a strange brooding glint.
‘You can leave all the details to me,’ he said impatiently. ‘If necessary, I’ll move mountains to allow you to stay in the United States. And as for going bankrupt, don’t give it a thought, Beth. I won’t allow it to happen. You’re going places, girl. And you’re going there with me.’
She stared at him in disbelief, feeling half elated, half terrified.
‘But where would I work?’ she asked.
‘That’s easy,’ he said. ‘I have a horse farm just near Buellton with an old barn that’s not being used. I could easily fix it up as a factory for you. And there are local girls nearby who could work for you. Wendy Fulton, for one. I’ll take you up tomorrow to see the place if you’re interested.’
Beth hesitated. Belatedly she remembered that she wasn’t alone in her fashion venture.
‘I’d have to see what Warren thinks,’ she began, but Daniel cut her off sharply.
‘Warren won’t be involved. You might as well get one thing straight, Beth. If you accept my offer, there’s no place for Warren in this business.’