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.
“How do you think he’d like me?”
Catherine studied her tall, willowy brunette roommate. “For breakfast.”
As the weeks went by Catherine became acquainted with the other secretaries
working in nearby offices. Several of the girls were having affairs with their bosses, and it
did not seem to matter to them whether the men were married or single. They envied
Catherine’s working for William Fraser.
“What’s Golden Boy really like?” one of them asked Catherine one day at lunch.
“Has he made a pass at you yet?”
“Oh, he doesn’t bother with that,” Catherine said earnestly. “I just come in at nine
o’clock every morning, we roll around on the couch until one o’clock, then we break for
lunch.”
“Seriously, how do you find him?”