Written on the Wind

Hello.

- What happened to Mrs. Black? - My predecessor? She was paroled.

So you're the new executive secretary, huh?

Don't let that title deceive you. I do everything but wipe windshields.

- I'm Mitch Wayne. - Yes, I recognized you.

- I'm Lucy Moore. - Recognized me? From where?

Oh, come now. Surely you realize...

how often your photograph has graced our tabloids?

"Prince Charming of the oil empire, and friend."

The dashing Kyle Hadley.

I saw him dash through the office recently.

Seems he misplaced his money belt.

- Again? - A hat was passed, and I contributed $16.47.

Well, for that, you ought to get an oil well named after you.

- Your boss in? - No, Mr. Ryan's out of town.

- I guess you'll have to pinch-hit for him. - What can I do for you?

Kyle Hadley's at 21, in the mood for a conference.

- Business, of course. - Look, I'm only Mr. Ryan's secretary.

- I don't think it'd be proper to... - Would you rather wipe windshields?

All right.

Kyle and I flew in from Texas this afternoon.

- Sounds urgent. - Very.

- Kyle said he felt like a steak sandwich. - Steak sandwich?

And who serves the best steak sandwich in the world?

- 21? - Simple, isn't it?

Or should I say simpleminded?

1,380 miles for a...

Then you were fooling me about a business conference.

No, that was my idea,

you know, in case Mr. Jasper Hadley should ask why we came to town.

Oh, the big boss. Well...

Cheer up. You might get your picture in the paper.

Is that all you live for?

- Guess again, Miss Moore. - I'm sorry.

I just wanted you to understand how I feel about such things.

- Know something? - What?

Maybe we're two of a kind.

Harry, put it on my tab.

- Of course, Mr. Hadley. - Who's this friend we're waiting for?

Mitch Wayne, my sidekick.

Mmm, where do his millions come from?

He's eccentric... he's poor.

- I'll bet. - Honey, you would lose.

Mitch is just a country boy. The kind of assets he's got you can't buy with money.

Sorry, kids. I'll have to make this some other time.

- He's not eccentric. - No, he's as rich as Rockefeller.

- Hello, I'm Kyle Hadley. - I'm Lucy Moore.

Lucy Moore. Your taste is improving.

Miss Moore is Bill Ryan's new executive secretary.

A member of the happy, happy Hadley Industrial family.

This is sure cozy.

There are rare moments when only champagne will do. This is one of them.

Like the lyrics say, "Are you from Dixie or where?"

Indiana. Small town you probably never heard of.

Any time you ask me, I'll put it on the map.

What shows in your crystal ball?

Oh, I'll probably walk down an aisle and wind up in a suburb...

with a husband, mortgage and children.

- That's not for you. - Why not?

Got too much beauty and brains to fall into a trap like that.

Just what sort of trap do you suggest?

How would you like to join the Kyle Hadley Society for the Prevention of Boredom?

- What would my duties be? - Not duties.

Pleasures, such as Kyle Hadley's guided tour through the gossip columns,

around the world in 80 headlines.

- I'm afraid that'd bore me. - What wouldn't bore you?

My career... advertising.

Bravo... as they say in Texas.

- Where did you learn the advertising game? - With the Sheraton Agency.

- Top drawer? - One of Madison Avenue's finest.

Good enough.

I'll buy you the agency.

What if I took you up on that?

- A phone, please. - Yes, Mr. Hadley.

- You're really serious, aren't you? - Sure I am.

- What's the number? - The agency or my apartment?

- Seriously... - Very seriously, forget it.

I'm following the advice of a Texas philosopher who said, "Give the little girl a big..."

It's time we heard from another county. What do you do for the Hadley Oil Company?

We're troubleshooters. Wherever they want trouble, they send for us.

I, uh, have a sheep skin that says I'm a geologist.

- That adds up. - I was kicked out of the same school.

They found rocks in my head.

Shouldn't you be going back to the office?

Apparently, I never should have left.

- We haven't finished our champagne. - Remarkable, isn't it?

I think we need cigarettes. Get a carton.

We'll get a cab, meanwhile.

Thank you, Mr. Hadley.

Carton of Mullhall, please.

Thank you.

Don't look now, but you've dropped your friend.

You advertising people... so clever with words.

Guess I've fallen from your grace.

Does it really matter?

Change your course. Teterborough Airport.

Look, if you don't mind, I'd like to get off the merry-go-round.

I can't quit now.

I want you to meet another fellow... a real one.

- Some other time, perhaps. - Some times, like now,

I can get you in the terminal.

I want us to be friends when we say good-bye.

Well, then let me give you a tip.

- Drop me at the office. - And if I do, I lose you.

Look, Lucy, once we're up in the blue, I'm a different fellow...

a lot different from this character.

All right. Maybe I should meet him.

No stunts now, like buzzing the Empire State Building.

The only stunts I do are in nightclubs.

May I ask why?

I wouldn't admit this to anyone but you,

but I drink too much.

- Here's your change. - Can't shake you, can I?

Goes both ways.

Am I safe in this crate?

I guess so. The tanks are loaded, and the pilot isn't, for a change.

Lucy.

You know, I've seen you before... at the office.

- A fleeting glance, wasn't it? - How much did you contribute?

Enough. How long have you known Mitch?

My dad introduced us when we started the first grade.

That must have been before your father struck oil.

Dad was worth 100 million then.

He had no use for private schools, and he wanted me to grow up with Mitch.

Why Mitch in particular?

Mitch's old man is my dad's boyhood pal... his idol, I guess.

A small rancher... kind of a legend in our county.

Great hunter, sort of a throwback to Daniel Boone.

I used to wish he was my father.

Is your father aware of this?

Dad's a big man... so big that he and I know I can't fit his shoes, or even come close.

- Can anybody? - Yes.

Mitch.

When I was kicked out of college, Dad gave up hoping...

Mitch's qualities might rub off on me.

It's easy to talk like this when you're 6,000 feet above the big poker table.

- Poker table? - Sure. The big one from Maine to California.

Down there, I'm a guy with too many chips.

I throw 'em up in the air, and a few land on my shoulders.

They'd be disappointed if I didn't behave like a playboy... didn't end up like my uncle.

- How did he end up? - Joe Hadley?

Lived hard and he died hard.

He survived a few duels over some European duchesses and countesses,

only to be done in by a jealous Turk who hired assassins to cut out his heart.

- He was only 30. - Black sheep?

- One of three. - Well, I take it you include yourself,

but who's the third?

My kid sister Marylee.

She's got enough devil in her to put Uncle Joe and me in the shade.

What's the matter? Your ears burning?

Just came to tell you we're off the Carolina coast.

- North Carolina? - Uh-huh. Are we turning back?

- Can't. Automatic pilot's set for Miami. - And then what?

I feel like a swim. How does Miami Beach sound?

Better ask your guest.

Just say the word, and I'll make a 180-degree turn.

Reluctantly?

Uh-huh. Something is happening to me.

I find myself talking to you like I never talked to anyone before...

not even Mitch.

Please, Lucy. I think we're past the point of no return.

Flight 498...

now arriving from Havana at Cubana concourse.

Kyle's probably arranging to buy you the hotel,

a stretch of the beach and a slice of the Gulf strip.

Why are you so sarcastic? Do you resent our being here,

or are you just disappointed that I didn't ask Kyle to turn back?

The first surprise came at Teterborough.

I underestimated Kyle's charm.

Perhaps you've always underestimated Kyle.

- Or maybe you're overestimating me. - Could be.

Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It's an adventure. It's exciting.

Are you looking for laughs?

Or are you soul searching?

The latter, I guess.

I think I'm beginning to know Kyle...

and to like him.

Well, in that case, I'm glad.

I really am.

Tell me something.

This hooky-playing... when does it end?

I don't know.

For me, it never seems to end.

Okay, kids. Let's beat it to Miami Beach.

Found us a boarding house with built-in black-eyed peas and grits.

This way, please.

I'm certain, Mr. Hadley, you'll find everything to your satisfaction.

- Everything? - Yes, sir.

Nice little boarding house you have here.

This is Miss Moore's suite.

- And we're right across the hall? - Yes, sir.

How do you like it?

What's not to like, huh?

Come on. I'll show you around.

Anything missing?

Open the closet.

Look over here.

Great invention, the telephone, hmm?

See you in an hour, okay?

Sure floored her, didn't it?