Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

can help you find your real father," he said.
    "Oh Michael, can you? How? If you could do that, it would be the most wonderful gift you could ever give me," I cried.
    "I have some good friends, agent friends, who must know agents who placed these singers and performers in resort hotels during the period you described. I'll get them to investigate and come up with some names for us. At least, we can narrow it down and proceed from there," he concluded.
    "He might be a performer working in New York. You might even know him!"
    "Very possibly," Michael agreed. "Let me work on it. In the meantime, young lady," he said, sitting back, "we had better get you on your way. Besides obeying your curfew at the residence, I'd like you to be fresh and energetic when I work with you. For obvious reasons, however, I won't be able to treat you any differently from the way I treat my other students. And you must continue to keep everything we do and say to each other under lock and key."
    "I will," I said. "Here in my heart," I added, my hand over my breast.
    "You are so lovely . . ." he trailed off.
    I couldn't help blushing at the compliment. He got up to kiss me on the cheek and then phoned down to the doorman to hail a taxi cab for me. At his apartment doorway, he kissed me softly on the lips and pressed his cheek to mine.
    "Good night, my little diva," he whispered.
    I felt like 1 floated to the elevator. When I descended to the lobby, the doorman had my taxi waiting. He escorted me out and opened the cab door for me, tipped his hat and said good night. I gave the driver my address and sat back, lost in the memory of all that had happened.
    Michael had singled me out and made love to me first through my music and then the way a man and a woman were meant to make love. I wondered if Michael's other guests had arrived and knocked on the door. I felt that we'd never have heard their annoyed knockings and ringings, so intent had we been on our own world, on our own happiness.
    I didn't think about Trisha until I started to open our bedroom door. 1 should have known she would be waiting anxiously for my return and would want me to tell her every detail of my secret evening with the older man I had invented. She was lying in bed, doing her homework, but she slapped all her books closed the instant I entered the room.
    "I couldn't wait until you got back," she said. "Tell me everything." She sat up and folded her hands on her lap. Just as before, I decided to mix fantasy and fact. As I got ready for bed, I began.
    "He has a beautiful apartment in a very fancy building with a doorman in the lobby." I described Michael's apartment in detail, feeling confident Trisha would never go there. "He has pictures of his dead wife in every room," I added. "One great big one over the fireplace, and it's true: we do look a lot alike. She was even my size in dresses and shoes, and he's kept all her clothing. He wanted to give me some things, but I refused to take anything. I did try a few things on and everything was a perfect fit."
    "That's eerie," Trisha said, eyes wide.
    "Yes, but maybe it was Fate that brought us together. Some things are just meant to be."
    "You mean you're going to see him again and again?"
    "Oh yes, but always secretly," I emphasized. "I told him we shouldn't even meet at the school anymore. If Agnes should-somehow find out, she would be sure to phone Grandmother Cutler, and she might use it as an excuse to ship me off someplace else. You can't imagine how spiteful she can be."
    "What did you do at his apartment?"
    "We drank a little wine, listened to music and talked."
    "What did you talk about so long?" Trisha asked, looking skeptical.
    "First, he talked about himself and his wonderful marriage, how much he had loved his wife and how much she had loved him. It was very sad. I cried. And then I told him my story and he cried for me. He had lost his parents at a young age and knew what it was to feel like an orphan.
    "But do you know what he's going to do? He's going to see if he can help me find my real father. He has friends in important places, just like Grandmother Cutler, and he's going to make some inquiries and have some people do some research. He said he might even hire a private detective to track him down."
    "He did? But that could be very expensive," Trisha said.
    "He said that money doesn't matter to him when it comes to me. He wanted to give me some of his wife's jewelry and expensive perfume, but I told him I