She asked herself why. She still didn't trust him and she knew somewhere deep down that he could hurt her more than anyone else ever had. Of course he never talked about the girls in his life, but every feminine instinct Rose had told her that there had been many of them—probably dozens. So the challenge was part of his allure. She wanted to be the one who finally got him. But that wasn't the only reason. And whatever else it was about him, the combination of passion and hope, the dreams that drove him—that had captivated her—she couldn't analyze it. She just knew he was the man she'd been waiting for.

“Where do you live?” she asked him a few weeks after they'd met. Always keep a man talking about himself. Not only does it please him, but you never know when the information you get will be useful.

“In the Village, on Christopher Street,” he said.

“Very arty.”

“If you think a tub in the kitchen and a toilet down the hall is artistic.”

She waited for him to ask her to come see it, but he never did. He'd never asked her to go out with him in the evening, either. They seemed to have a standing date—if that was the right word—for coffee every morning before he went to work. But he'd never asked her to have dinner with him or to go to a movie or dancing.

He hadn't kissed her either, although she knew he wanted to. And she knew why he hadn't. “You're for keeps, not for fun,” he said.

She told herself it was good that he understood that about her. Men didn't marry women they didn't respect. She knew that from watching her mother.

Lu's love life consisted of brief affairs that usually occurred when she wasn't working or when she was on the road. For a few weeks, the man would be underfoot all the time, with Lu laughing at his jokes, listening to his opinions, and going out every evening on his arm. But once she started rehearsal for a new show, she'd go back to her rigid schedule and the man would discover that coddling the star's ever-delicate throat was more important to everyone—including the star—than coddling him, and he would disappear. Soon he'd be seen around town with a woman who was more attentive, if less successful, than Lu.

Rose had watched this pattern and determined never to repeat it. She was going to save herself for marriage the way Nonna had told her to. Once she had a ring on her finger, she would dedicate her life to her husband. He would come first in all things; his needs would be her needs, his tastes would be her tastes. And he would never leave her the way men always left her mother.

I'd die if that happened, Rose thought.