Cutler 01 - Dawn

part of this . . . this hotel," she said, holding her arms out. "But arguing with men who are under a woman's spell is like trying to hold back a waterfall. If you remain under it too long, it will drown you.
    "So I retreated, warned them, and then retreated." She nodded, the cold smile returning. "Oh, she pretended to want to be responsible and respectable, but whenever I gave her anything substantial to do, she would complain about the work and the effort, and Randolph would plead for her to be relieved of this or that.
    " 'We have enough ornaments to hang on our walls and ceilings,' I told him. 'We don't need another.' But I might as well have directed all my words to the walls in this office.
    "It wasn't long that she began to show her true nature—flirting with everything that wore pants. There was no stopping her! It was disgusting! I tried to tell my son, but he was as blind to that as to anything else. When a man is as dazzled by a woman as he was, it's the same as if he had looked directly at the sun. After that, he sees nothing.
    "So I gave up and sure enough, as you have undoubtedly learned, she had an affair and got herself into trouble. I could have thrown the little tramp out then. I should have," she added bitterly, "but. . . I wanted to protect Randolph and the family and the hotel's reputation.
    "What I did I did for the good of everyone and for the hotel and family, for they are one in the same."
    "But Daddy . . . Ormand Longchamp . . ."
    "He agreed to the arrangements," she said. "He knew what he was doing."
    "But you told him everyone wanted it that way, didn't you? He thought he was doing what my mother and Randolph wanted, right? Isn't that true?" I pursued when she didn't respond.
    "Randolph doesn't know what he wants; he never did. I always made the right decisions for him. Marrying her," she said, leaning over the desk, "is the only time he has ever gone against my wishes, and look how it turned out."
    "But Ormand believed—"
    "Yes, yes, so I thought; but I paid him handsomely and kept the police from finding him. It was his own fault he got caught. He should have stayed farther north and never come to Richmond."
    "He doesn't belong in prison," I insisted. "It's not fair."
    She turned away again, as though what I had to say was unimportant. But it wasn't!
    "I don't care if you can force Mrs. Dalton to recant her story and if you can make my mother look so stupid no one will believe her; they'll believe me or at least it will create enough of a scandal to bring embarrassment. And I'll tell Randolph. Just think how hurt he will be to learn it. You let him go off chasing the hope he would recapture me. You offered that reward."
    She studied me a moment. I held my gaze as firmly as I could, but it was like looking directly into the center of a campfire. Finally she softened, seeing my resolution.
    "What is it you want? You want to embarrass me, rain down disgrace on the Cutlers?"
    "I want you to get Daddy out of jail and stop treating me like dirt. Stop calling my mother a tramp, and stop demanding I be renamed Eugenia," I said determinedly.
    I wanted a lot more, but I was afraid to make too many demands. In time I hoped I could get her to do something for Jimmy and for Fern.
    She nodded slowly.
    "All right." She sighed. "I'll do something about Ormand Longchamp. I'll make some calls to people I know in high places and see about getting him an early parole. I was thinking about doing that anyway. And if you insist on being called Dawn, you can be called Dawn.
    "But," she added quickly when I began to smile, "you will have to do something for me."
    "What? Do you want me to go back to living with him?"
    "Of course not. You're here now and you're a Cutler whether you or I like it or not, but," she purred contentedly, quite pleased with herself, sitting back and contemplating me for a moment, "you don't have to be here all the time. I think it would be much better for all of us . . . Clara Sue, Philip, Randolph, even your . . . your mother, if you were away."
    "Away? Where would I go?"
    She nodded, a curious smile on her face. Obviously, she had thought of something very clever, something that pleased her very much.
    "You have a very pretty singing voice. I think you should be permitted to develop your talent."
    "What do you mean?" Why was she suddenly so eager to help me?
    "I happen to be an honorary member of the board of trustees of a prestigious school for the performing arts in New York