You don't need to.
You don't need the money. What do you want to make pictures for?"
I leaned my head back against the seat.
"Maybe because I want them to remember me for something else besides gunpowder, airplanes and plastic dishes."
"They'll remember you longer for that than a movie.
"Will they?" I turned my head to look at her. "How do you remember a man?
Because of the thrill he gave you? Or because he built the tallest building in the world?"
"You remember all those things," she said softly. "If those were the things he did."
"You are a philosopher. I didn't think you understood men so well."
She laughed.
"I’ve been a woman all my life. And men are the first thing a girl tries to understand."
I felt the wheels touch and we were on the ground.
Unconsciously I felt myself leaning forward against the wheel to keep her from bucking.
Then I relaxed.
Habit was a funny thing. You landed every plane, whether you were at the controls or not.
Jennie shivered and pulled her thin coat around her as the first cold blast of air came through the open door.
There was snow on the ground as we walked across the landing strip to the terminal.
A chauffeur stopped me, his hand touching his cap respectfully.
"Your car's right outside, Mr. Cord."
Jennie was still shivering as we got into the car.
"I forgot how cold winter can be," she said.
In forty-five minutes, we were at the Drake Hotel.
The assistant manager greeted us at the door.
"Good to see you again, Mr. Cord. Your apartment is all ready.
Your office called from the Coast."
He snapped his fingers and an elevator appeared by magic.
We sped up with him in solitary splendor.
"I took the liberty of ordering a hot supper for you, Mr. Cord."
"Thank you, Carter," I said. "That was thoughtful of you."
Carter held open the apartment door.
A small table was set up in the dining alcove and there were fresh, gleaming bottles on the bar.
"If you'll just call down when you're ready, Mr. Cord, we'll send it right up."
"Give us a few minutes to wash up, Carter," I said.
"Very good, sir."
I glanced at Jennie, who was still shivering from the cold.
"Carter!"
"Yes, Mr. Cord?"
"Miss Denton obviously wasn't prepared for the cold.
Do you think we could manage to get her a warm coat?"
Carter allowed himself a brief glance at Jennie.
"I believe it could be arranged, sir.
Mink, of course?"
"Of course," I said.
"Very good, sir. I'll have a selection up here shortly for mademoiselle."
"Thank you, Carter."
He bowed and the door closed behind him.
Jennie turned to me, her eyes wide.
"That does it!
I thought nothing could impress me any more but that does.
Do you know what time it is?"