The Other Side of Midnight

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to tell you something about me that you didn't find in the newspaper morgue. I'm a tough son-ofabitch to work for. You'll find me fair, but I'm a perfectionist. We're hard to live with. Do you think you can manage?"

"I'll try," Catherine said.

"Good. Sally will fill you in on the routine around here. The most important thing you have to remember is that I'm a chain coffee drinker. I like it black and hot."

"I'll remember." She got to her feet and started toward the door.

"And, Catherine?"

"Yes, Mr. Fraser?"

"When you go home tonight, practice saying some profanity in front of the mirror. If you're going to keep wincing every time I say a four-letter word, it's going to drive me up the wall."

He was doing it to her again, making her feel like a child. "Yes, Mr. Fraser," she said coldly. She stormed out of the office, almost slamming the door behind her.

The meeting had not gone anything like Catherine had expected. She no longer liked William Fraser. She thought he was a smug, dominating, arrogant boor. No wonder his wife had divorced him. Well she was here and she would start, but she made up her mind that she would begin looking for another job, a job working for a human being instead of a despot.

When Catherine walked out of the door, Fraser leaned back in his chair, a smile touching his lips. Were girls still that achingly young, that earnest and dedicated? In her anger with her eyes blazing and her lips trembling Catherine had seemed so defenseless that Fraser had wanted to take her in his arms and protect her. Against himself, he admitted ruefully. There was a kind of old-fashioned shining quality about her that he'd almost forgotten existed in girls. She was lovely and she was bright, and she had a mind of her own. She was going to become the best goddamn secretary that he had ever had. And deep down Fraser had a feeling that she was going to become more than that. How much more, he was not sure yet. He had been burned so often that an automatic warning system took over the moment his emotions were touched by any female. Those moments had come very seldom. His pipe had gone out. He lit it again, and the smile was still on his face. A little later when Fraser called her in for dictation, Catherine was courteous but cool. She waited for Fraser to say something personal so she could show him how aloof she was, but he was distant and businesslike. He had, Catherine thought, obviously wiped the incident of this morning from his mind. How insensitive could a man be?

In spite of herself Catherine found the new job fascinating. The telephone rang constantly, and the names of the callers filled her with excitement. During the first week the Vice-President of the United States called twice, half a dozen senators, the Secretary of State and a famous actress who was in town publicizing her latest picture. The week was climaxed by a telephone call from President Roosevelt, and Catherine was so nervous she dropped the phone and disconnected his secretary.

In addition to the telephone calls Fraser had a constant round of appointments at the office, his country club or at one of the better-known restaurants. After the first few weeks Fraser allowed Catherine to set up his appointments for him and make the reservations. She began to know who Fraser wanted to see and who he wanted to avoid. Her work was so absorbing that by the end of the month she had totally forgotten about looking for another job.

Catherine's relationship with Fraser was still on a very impersonal level, but she knew him well enough now to realize that his aloofness was not unfriendliness. It was a dignity, a wall of reserve that served as a shield against the world. Catherine had a feeling that Fraser was really very lonely. His job called for him to be gregarious, but she sensed that by nature he was a solitary man. She also sensed that William Fraser was out of her league. For that matter so is most of male America, she decided.

She double-dated with Susie every now and then but found most of her escorts were married sexual athletes, and she preferred to go to a movie or the theater alone. She saw Gertrude Lawrence and a new comedian named Danny Kaye in Lady in the Dark, and Life with Father, and Alice in Arms, with a young actor named K

irk Douglas. She loved Kitty Foyle with Ginger Rogers because it reminded her of herself. One night at a performance of Hamlet she saw Fraser sitting in a box with an exquisite girl in an expensive white evening gown that Catherine had seen in Vogue. She had no idea who the girl was. Fraser made his own personal dates, and she never knew where he was going or with whom. He looked across the theater and saw her. The next morning he made no reference to it until he had finished the morning's dictation.

"How did you like Hamlet?" he asked.

"The play's going to make it, but I didn't care much for the performances."

"I liked the actors," he said. "I thought the girl who played Ophelia was particularly good."

Catherine nodded and started to leave.

"Didn't you like Ophelia?" Fraser persisted.

"If you want my honest opinion," Catherine said carefully, "I didn't think she was able to keep her head above water." She turned and walked out.

When Catherine arrived at the apartment that night, Susie was waiting for her. "You had a visitor," Susie said.

"Who?"

"An FBI man. They're investigating you."

My God, thought Catherine. They found out I'm a virgin, and there's probably some kind of law against it in Washington. Aloud she said, "Why would the FBI be investigating me?"

"Because you're working for the government now."

"Oh."

"How's your Mr. Fraser?"

"My Mr. Fraser's just fine," Catherine said.