The Cottage

“So where is she?” she asked. She'd drunk almost an entire bottle of wine as she tried to reach him all night. But quite reasonably he had turned his cell phone off at the awards, and had forgotten to turn it on again until he got home.

“Who?” He genuinely had no idea who she meant. She sounded more than a little drunk. She'd gotten upset waiting to talk to him.

“Rita!” Charlene said insistently.

“I have no idea where she is. In her own bed, I assume. And I, dear lady, am going to sleep. I have an early call tomorrow for a commercial. I'm not as young as you. I need my sleep.”

“The hell you do. If I were there, we'd be up all night, and you know it.”

“Yes,” he smiled, “I'm sure we would, which is why you're not here. We both need some sleep.”

“Why don't I come over now?” she asked, slurring her words. She was sounding even drunker than she had at first, and she was still drinking while they talked.

“I'm tired, Charlene. And you sound under the weather too. Why don't we let it go for tonight.” Boredom had crept into his voice.

“I'm coming over.”

“No, you're not,” he said, sounding firm.

“I'll climb over the gate.”

“The security patrol would pick you up, which would be embarrassing for you. Let's both get some sleep and talk about it tomorrow,” he said gently. He didn't want to get into a fight with her, especially if she was drunk and upset. He was smarter than that.

“Talk about what tomorrow? Are you cheating on me with Rita Waverly?”

“What I'm doing is entirely none of your business, Charlene, and the term ‘cheating’ presumes some kind of commitment on either of our parts, and there is no such thing between us. Now, let's keep a little perspective here. Goodnight, Charlene,” he said firmly, and promptly hung up. His cell phone rang again almost immediately and he let it go to voice mail, and then she tried his house. She called for the next two hours, and he finally switched off the phone, and went to sleep. He hated possessive women who made scenes. It was definitely time for Charlene to vanish out of his life. He was sorry Liz was no longer around. She had always been so good at that. If Charlene had been more important to him, he'd have sent her a diamond bracelet or some similarly impressive gift to thank her for the time they'd spent together. But she hadn't been around long enough to warrant it. And in her case, he knew, it would only have encouraged her. Charlene was the kind of girl you had to cut off suddenly, and stay away from after that. It was a shame she had made a scene that night, he mused to himself, as he drifted off to sleep. If she hadn't, he would have been perfectly happy to keep her around for at least another two or three weeks, but surely no longer than that. But after tonight, she was destined for a speedy exit. In fact, he knew, as he heard his phone ring in the distance for the hundredth time, she was already gone. Bye, Charlene.

Coop mentioned her discreetly to Paloma the next morning when she served his breakfast on a tray. She was doing better than she had for the first few days, although she had served him hot peppers with his poached eggs, and even after spitting them out, his mouth burned all day. She said it was a treat for him, and he had begged her not to “treat” him again.

“Paloma, if Charlene calls, please tell her that I'm out, whether or not I'm at home. Is that clear?”

Paloma stared at him through narrowed eyes. He had finally learned to see her through the rhinestone sunglasses. And in any case, her whole face gave her away. Most of the time, her entire body read disapproval, contempt, and rage. She referred to him as a “dirty old man” to her friends. “You don't like her anymore?” She no longer bothered to use the accent on him. She had other tricks up her sleeve instead. She loved challenging him in a myriad of ways.

“That's not the point. It's simply that our… our little interlude… has come to an end.” He would never have had to explain that to Liz, nor did he want to explain it to his maid. But Paloma seemed determined to be the champion of the underdog, and defender of all womanhood, rather than Coop.

“ ‘Interlude’? ‘Interlude’? Does that mean you're not sleeping with her anymore?” Coop winced.

“That's crude, but correct, I'm afraid. Please don't put her calls through to me again.” He couldn't have said it more clearly to her. And half an hour later, she told him he had a call.

“Who is it?” he asked distractedly. He was reading a script in bed, and trying to figure out if there was a part in it for him.

“I don't know. Sounds like a secretary,” she said vaguely, and he picked up the phone. It was Charlene.

She was sobbing and hysterical, and said she wanted to see him immediately. She said she was going to have a nervous breakdown if he didn't, and it took him an hour to get off the phone. He told her he didn't think their relationship was good for her, and it seemed wiser not to see each other for a while. He didn't tell her that these were precisely the kind of histrionics he avoided in his life, and he had no intention of seeing her again. She was still crying, but less hysterically, when he finally got off the phone. And he went to find Paloma immediately. He was still in his pajamas, when he found her in the living room, vacuuming. She was wearing a new pair of purple velvet sneakers and matching sunglasses, with rhinestones of course. She didn't hear a word he was saying to her, and he turned the vacuum off and stood there glaring at her, as she looked unconcerned.

“You knew exactly who that was,” he said accusingly. It was rare for him to lose his cool with anyone, but Paloma brought out the worst in him. He wanted to strangle her, and Abe, for firing the rest of the staff and leaving him with her. Any benevolence he'd begun feeling for her instantly disappeared. As far as he was concerned, she was a witch.

“No. Who?” she said innocently. “Rita Waverly?” She had seen him at the Golden Globes too, and told all her friends watching it, what an asshole he was. He wouldn't have been pleased with her reviews.

“It was Charlene. That was a rotten thing to do. It upset her terribly and me too. She was hysterical, which is not how I like to start my day. And I warn you, if she shows up here, and you let her in, I'm going to throw you both out of this house, and call the police and tell them you broke in.”

“Don't get so nervous,” she said with a quelling look at him.

“I'm not nervous. I'm angry, Paloma. I specifically told you, I don't want to speak to Charlene.”

“I forgot. Or maybe I didn't know who she was. Okay, I won't answer the phone again.” Her final victory, and yet another task she no longer had to do, which only made him angrier.

“You will answer the phone, Paloma. And you will not tell Charlene if I'm here. Is that clear?”

She nodded, and turned the vacuum on again, in open defiance of him. She did defiance extremely well. And passive aggression too.

“Fine. Thank you,” he said, and stomped back upstairs, and when he went back to bed, he couldn't concentrate on the script. Other than his fury at Paloma, he was extremely annoyed at Charlene. She was being tiresome and hysterical and rude. He hated women who hung on like that. When the romance waned, they had to know how to leave elegantly. But elegance was clearly not Charlene's strong suit. He could sense easily that she was going to be difficult. He was still irritated when he finally got out of bed, showered, shaved, and dressed.

He was having lunch at Spago with a director he'd worked with years before. Coop had called and suggested lunch, he wanted to find out what he was up to. You never knew when someone was making a movie with a great part for him. Thinking about it forced Charlene from his mind at least. And it was only on his way to Spago that he remembered he had never heard from Alex, and he decided to page her again. He left his cell phone number on her pager.

He was surprised and pleased when she answered him immediately this time. He had just put his cell phone on the seat next to him when she called.

“Hello, this is Dr. Madison. Who's this?” She didn't recognize the number, and had her official voice on, as he smiled.

“It's Coop. How are you, Dr. Madison?” She was surprised to hear his voice, and in spite of herself, pleased. “I saw you on the Golden Globes last night.” So had half the world, and all of Hollywood. “I didn't think you had time to watch TV.” “I don't. I was walking through the waiting room, looking for one of my patients' parents, and there you were, with Rita Waverly You both looked great,” she said with sincerity. She had a young voice, and the same openness he had liked about her when they met. There was no artifice about her, only beauty and brains, unlike Charlene. But the comparison was unfair. Charlene would have been at a disadvantage with the likes of Alex Madison. Alex had everything going for her, looks, charm, intelligence, breeding. She came from another world. And in contrast, there were things Charlene did that women like Alex knew nothing about. There was room in Coop's world for both of them, or there had been until the night before. But there would be women like Charlene in his world again, Coop knew. There were a lot of them. It was women like Alex who were rare and few and far between. “I think you might have paged me yesterday,” she said candidly. “I didn't recognize the number, and I didn't have time to return the call. I didn't even see it till today. But when it came up again just now, I thought I'd better call. I was afraid you might be a consulting physician. I'm glad you're not.” She sounded relieved.

“So am I, particularly with those little miniature rug rats you play doctor to. I'd rather be a barber than do what you do.” Although in truth, he respected her more than he was willing to admit. But his feigned horror at what she did was part of his game, and she knew it too.

“How was last night? Was it fun? Rita Waverly sure is beautiful. Is she nice?” The question made him smile. “Nice” was not a word he would have chosen to describe Rita Waverly, and she would have been insulted if he had. Nice was not a highly prized virtue in Hollywood. But she was important and powerful and beautiful and glamorous, even if slightly long of tooth.

“I think ‘interesting’ is more appropriate. Amusing. She's very much a movie star,” he said diplomatically.

“Like you,” Alex tossed the ball back to him, and he laughed.

“Touche. What are you doing for the rest of the day?” He liked talking to her, and he wanted to see her again, if he could pry her away from the hospital and her duties in the ICU. He wasn't sure he could.

“I'm working till six o'clock, and then I'm going to go home and sleep for about twelve hours. I have to be back here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning.”

“You work too hard, Alex,” he said sincerely, sounding concerned.

“Residency is like that. It's a form of slavery, I think all you have to do to pass eventually is prove you can survive.”

“It all sounds very noble,” he said blithely. “Do you suppose you could stay awake long enough to have dinner with me tonight?”

“With you and Rita Waverly?” she teased, but it had none of the malice he had gotten from Charlene the night before or earlier that morning. Alex wasn't like that. She seemed all innocence and decency and good spirits. It was very refreshing for Coop, who was so tired of jaded women. Alex was like a breath of fresh air in his very sophisticated existence. She was an entirely different creature, and the fact that she was Arthur Madison's daughter hadn't been forgotten either. A fortune of that magnitude couldn't be ignored.

“I could ask Rita, if you like,” he said sensibly, “but I thought you might have dinner alone with me, if you can make it.”

“I'd like to,” she said honestly, she was flattered to be invited to dinner by Coop. “But I'm not sure I could stay awake long enough to eat.”

“You can sleep on the banquette and I'll let you know what I ate. How does that sound?”

“Unfortunately, very realistic. Maybe if we do something early, quick, and simple. I haven't slept in about twenty hours.” Her work ethic was inconceivable to Coop, but he nonetheless admired her for it.

“It will be interesting to try and meet those specifications. I accept the challenge. Where shall I pick you up?” He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

“How about my place?” She gave him an address on Wilshire Boulevard, in a good but not overly luxurious building. She was entirely self-supporting. She didn't actually live on her resident's salary, but she tried to add very little to it, so as not to set herself too radically apart from the others. She had a very small studio apartment. “I could be ready by seven. But I really don't want to stay out late, Coop. I have to be wide awake and fully conscious while I'm working tomorrow.”

“I understand,” and he respected her for it. “I'll pick you up at seven, and we'll go someplace simple and easy. I promise.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the prospect. She couldn't believe she was actually going to have dinner with Cooper Winslow. If she had told someone, she was certain they wouldn't have believed her. She went back to work after that, and Coop went to his lunch at Spago. It proved entertaining but fruitless.

Things had been more than a little thin for him of late. He'd been offered another commercial, for men's underwear this time, and he had refused to do it. He never lost sight of the importance of his image. But Abe's threats had remained clear in his mind. Much as he hated to be driven by financial concerns, he knew he had to make some money. All he needed was one great, big, fat movie, and a leading role at that. It never seemed impossible to Coop, or even unlikely. It was just a question of timing. And in the meantime, there were cameos and commercials. And girls like Alex Madison. But he wasn't after her money, he told himself. He just liked her.

Coop picked Alex up promptly at seven on Wilshire Boulevard, and she came bounding out the door before he could walk into the lobby. The building looked respectable, though a little worn, and she admitted to him in the car that her apartment was relatively awful.

“Why don't you buy a house?” he questioned her, as they drove along in his favorite Rolls. Money was certainly no object for her, but she seemed very discreet, and he noticed that she wore no jewelry and dressed simply. She was wearing black slacks, and a black turtleneck sweater and a secondhand Navy pea-coat. He was wearing gray slacks, a black cashmere sweater, and a leather jacket, and black alligator loafers. He had sensed that she would dress down, and he was taking her to a Chinese restaurant. And when he told her, she was delighted.

“I don't need a house,” she said in answer to his question. “I'm never home, and when I am, I'm sleeping, and I don't know if I'm going to stay here. When I finish my residency, I'm not sure where I'll go into practice, although I wouldn't mind staying in Los Angeles.” The one place she knew she wasn't going to go was back to Palm Beach, to her parents. That was a closed chapter for her. She only went for major holidays and state occasions, and as seldom as she could.

Coop had a fascinating evening with her. They talked about a thousand different subjects, Kenya again, and Indonesia, where she had done extensive traveling after college. And Bali, which was one of her favorite places, along with Nepal, where she'd gone trekking. She talked about the books she liked to read, most of which were surprisingly serious. And she had very eclectic taste in music. She knew a lot about antiques and architecture. And she was interested in politics, particularly as it related to medicine, and she was surprisingly knowledgeable about recent legislation on the subject. He had never known anyone like her. She had a mind like a finely tuned machine, and she was far better than any computer. He had to work hard to keep up with her, and he liked that. And when he asked, she told him she was thirty. She assumed he was somewhere in his late fifties, early sixties. She knew he'd been making movies for a long time, but she didn't know how old he'd been when he started. She would have been startled to realize that he had recently turned seventy, and he certainly didn't look it.

She had a delightful evening with him, and she said so as he drove her home. It was only nine-thirty, and he'd been careful not to keep her out late, or he knew she'd be reluctant to see him again, if he dragged her around till midnight and she felt like death the next morning. He knew she had to get up at six-thirty.

“You were a good sport to come out with me,” Coop said generously. “I would have been very disappointed if you hadn't.”

“That's nice of you, Coop. I had a great time, and the dinner was delicious.” Simple, but good, and just spicy enough, the way she liked it. And he had been extremely good company, even better than she'd expected. She had feared he would be all glitter and flash and charm, and very much a product of his business. She was surprised to find him intelligent and warm, and well informed. She didn't have the feeling that he was playing a part, but rather that he was in fact a worthwhile human being, which surprised her.

“I'd like to see you again, Alex, if you have time, and aren't otherwise encumbered.” He hadn't asked her until then if she had a boyfriend. Although other men had never stopped him. He had enough faith in himself to dispose of the best of them, and generally he had, without much trouble. He was, after all, Cooper Winslow. And he never forgot it.

“I'm not ‘encumbered’ actually. I don't have enough time to be. I'm not a very reliable date, I'm afraid. I'm either on duty, or on call.”

“I know,” he smiled, “or sleeping. I told you, I like a challenge.”

“Well, I am one, in more ways than one,” she admitted. “I'm a little gun-shy about serious relationships. A lot gun-shy actually.”

“Thanks to your brother-in-law?” he asked gently, and she nodded.

“He taught me some painful lessons. I haven't ventured out too far in deep waters since then. I tend to stay at the shallow end, with the kiddies. I can handle that. I'm not so sure about the other stuff.”

“You'll risk it for the right man, you just haven't met him yet.” There was some truth to what he said, but honesty in what she had too. She was terrified of getting hurt again, hadn't had a serious relationship since her broken engagement, and dated very little.

“My life is my work, Coop. As long as we both understand that, then I'd love to see you.”

“Good,” he sounded pleased. “I'll call you.” Though it wouldn't be too soon, he had good instincts about those things. He wanted her to miss him, and wonder why he wasn't calling. He knew exactly how to play women. And Alex was open and easy to read, and she had explained herself to him.

She thanked him without kissing him, and he watched to make sure she got into the building safely. He waved as he drove away, and she looked pensive as she rode up in the elevator. It was hard to know if he was for real, and she was skeptical. It would be so easy to fall for someone as smooth and charming as he was, and then God knew what would happen. As she let herself into her apartment, she wondered if she should go out with him again, or if it was too risky. He was a very experienced player.

Alex took her clothes off and dumped them in a heap on a chair, along with the surgical pajamas she'd worn all day, and the ones she'd worn the day before, and the day before that. She never had time to do laundry either.

Coop was very pleased with himself as he drove home. It had gone exactly the way he had wanted it to. And whatever his intentions, or hers, it had been a good beginning. He would just have to see which way the wind blew, and how he wanted to play it. But Alex Madison was definitely an option.

He wasn't worried about it, and Alex didn't have the energy to be. She was asleep before he even got home to The Cottage.

Chapter 9

Charlene called Coop half a dozen times that night, and again, at least another dozen times, the next morning. But this time, Paloma didn't trick him into taking the calls. She knew he would have killed her. He finally took a call from her two days later. He was trying to let her down gently, although not speaking to her for two days was not Charlene's idea of gentle.

“What's up?” Coop asked casually when he took the call. “How are you?”

“I'm crazed, that's how I am,” she said, sounding frantic. “Where the hell were you?”

“I was on location, doing a commercial.” It was a lie, but it calmed her down for a minute.

“You could at least have called me,” she said, sounding injured.

“I thought of it,” he lied, “but I didn't have time. And I thought we both needed space. This isn't going to go anywhere, Charlene. I think you know that.”

“Why not? We were great together.”

“Yes, we were,” he conceded gracefully. “But if nothing else, I'm too old for you. You need to find someone your own age to play with.” It never even occurred to him that she was only a year younger than Alex.

“That's never stopped you before.” She knew from the tabloids and people who knew him, that he'd been out with girls who were even younger than she. “That's just an excuse, Coop.” She was right of course, but he would never have admitted that to her.

“It doesn't feel right,” he tried another tack. “It's awfully hard making relationships work in our business.” But that wasn't plausible either. They both knew he'd been out with every actress and starlet in Hollywood, sometimes for long periods of time. He just didn't want to pursue it with Charlene. He thought she was vulgar, at least in the way she dressed, and a little obsessive. What's more, she bored him. He was far more intrigued by Alex. And not entirely indifferent to her fortune. It wasn't his main attraction to her, but it certainly added incentive to lust and fascination. Charlene had none of that to offer. And he also wisely sensed that if he wanted to date Alex, he would have to keep his nose relatively clean. Appearing in the tabloids with a girl who had started as an actress in porn videos was not going to further his cause with Alex. And for the moment, Alex was the object of his current interest. Charlene was history, and an extremely brief, undistinguished chapter. He had had many like her, and he always tired of them quickly. And the few exotic elements she had, like a Japanese grandmother, and having lived in Paris and grown up in Brazil, simply didn't make up for what she lacked in distinction. Besides which, he had discovered, she had a vicious temper, and she seemed a little unbalanced to him. She was not taking the hint and disappearing gracefully, she was hanging on to him like a pit bull with a bone in its teeth, which was something Coop hated. He much preferred swift, painless endings to the dogged, desperate pursuit Charlene was inflicting on him. He resented her for it, and felt trapped and claustrophobic every time he talked to her.

“I'll call you in a few days, Charlene,” he said finally, but that only enraged her.

“No, you won't. You're lying.”

“I don't lie.” He sounded greatly offended. “I have a call on the other line, I'll call you back.”

“You're a liar!” she screamed, and he quietly disconnected. He didn't like anything about the way she was behaving. Overnight, she had become a major problem. But there wasn't much he could do about it. She'd give up eventually, but in the meantime, she was being very unpleasant, and Coop was annoyed at her.

He called Alex that afternoon, but she had three emergencies back to back, and she didn't get back to him till that evening. And all he got was a message on his voice mail from her. She'd been going to bed at 9 P.M. when she called, and said she had to be up at four the next morning. Establishing a relationship with her was not going to be easy, but it was definitely worth it, in Coop's eyes.

He finally connected with Alex the following afternoon. She only had a few minutes to talk, and she was on duty for the next several days, but she agreed to come to dinner on Sunday. Although she warned him she'd be on call then.

“What does that mean? They call you for advice?” he asked hopefully, and somewhat naively. He couldn't remember ever dating a doctor, although he had dated several nurses, and a chiropractor once.

“No,” she laughed easily, and he loved the sound of her laughter. Everything about Alex was honest and open. “It means I have to leave in a matter of seconds, if they page me.”

“I may have to confiscate your pager in that case.”

“There are days when that would be extremely appealing. Are you sure you want me to come to dinner if I'm on call?”

“Absolutely sure. I'll make you a doggie bag if you have to leave.”

“Would you rather wait till I have a day off free and clear? I have one next week, if you'd prefer that,” she offered fairly.

“No, I want to see you, Alex. I'll make something simple you can take with you.”

“You're going to cook?” She sounded vastly impressed, and so was he. The only thing he could cook was toast for caviar, or boil water for tea.

“I'll figure out something.” Life without a cook was a new challenge for him. He was thinking of calling Wolfgang Puck and having him send over some pasta and a salmon pizza. He liked that idea, and on Saturday, he called Wolfgang, who promised to send over a simple meal for two, and a waiter. It was perfect.

Alex arrived at five o'clock Sunday afternoon, on schedule, in her own car, as she said she needed it in case they called her back to work. She came chugging down the driveway, and was most impressed when she saw The Cottage. Unlike girls like Charlene, she had seen houses of its ilk before, in fact she had lived in several of them. Her parents' house in Newport looked very much like The Cottage, only bigger, although she didn't say that to Coop, she didn't want to be rude. She thought the property itself and the gardens were lovely, and she was excited about using the pool. Coop had told her to bring a bathing suit, and she had just gotten into the water, and swam in long, smooth strokes to the far end and back, as Coop watched her, when Mark and Jimmy arrived in shorts, after a game of tennis, or a game of “lob” as they had come to call it on the damaged court. They were surprised to see Coop and a very pretty young woman, and she was surprised to see them chatting with Coop when she surfaced from under the water.

She swam to the side of the pool, and Mark looked at her admiringly. She was a beautiful girl, and far more interesting looking than the one who had made him coffee. He was still hoping she had never told Coop about their early morning meeting.

“Alex, I'd like to introduce you to my houseguests,” Coop said grandly, as he introduced them by name, and she smiled at them.

“What a wonderful place to stay,” she said, smiling at them. “You're very lucky.” They agreed with her, and a few minutes later, got into the pool with her. Coop rarely swam. Although he had been captain of the swimming team in college, he was happier sitting by the side of the pool, alternately chatting with them, and talking to Alex, and entertaining everyone with his outrageous stories about Hollywood.

They stayed by the side of the pool until six o'clock, and Coop took her inside to show her the house, and let her change back into dry clothes. Wolfgang's waiter was busy in the kitchen by then, and Coop said they would eat at seven. It was all wonderfully civilized, and they settled down in the library, while he offered her a glass of champagne, but she said she couldn't, in case she had to go back on duty. Being on call meant she couldn't touch alcohol, but Coop didn't seem to mind. And they were both relieved that so far at least, her pager had remained silent.

“Your houseguests seem very nice,” Alex said comfortably as Coop sipped a glass of Cristal, and the waiter from Spago served delicious hors d'oeuvres, and disappeared back into the kitchen to finish the meal. “How do you know them?”

“They're friends of my accountant's,” Coop said easily, which was a half-truth, but it explained their presence on his grounds.

“It's nice of you to let them stay here. They seem to love it.” Mark had said he was barbecuing that night, and had invited Coop and Alex to join them, but Coop had said they had other plans. Mark had showed an obvious interest in Alex, and he'd commented on her to Jimmy in an undertone after she and Coop went back into the main house.

“Nice-looking girl,” he said, and Jimmy said he hadn't noticed. He was still wandering around in a blur much of the time, and had no interest in women. Mark was coming back to life more quickly, and he was getting increasingly angry at Janet. It suddenly made other women seem more attractive to him. But his grief was a lot different than Jimmy's. “I'm surprised Coop is interested in her.”

“Why?” Jimmy looked surprised. He hadn't paid much attention to her looks, but she was obviously intelligent, and Coop had said she was a doctor. She seemed appropriate to him.

“Big brain, small boobs. Not his usual profile, from what I've seen,” Mark explained.

“Maybe there's more to him than we think,” Jimmy suggested. There had been something vaguely familiar about her. He wasn't sure if it was just a type he had often seen back in Boston, or if he'd ever met her. He hadn't asked what kind of medicine she practiced, and Coop had monopolized most of the conversation with his stories. And they were always amusing. He was easy to be with, and both Mark and Jimmy could see why women liked him. He was infinitely charming, undeniably good-looking, and his wit was sharp and quick.

Coop and Alex had sat down to dinner by then, and Mark had started the barbecue. It was the first time he had used it, the week before they had used Jimmy's, and the steaks he'd made had been delicious. Mark was making hamburgers and Caesar salad. And things were going pretty well, until he put too much fuel on the charcoal and flames started leaping skyward, and seemed to get rapidly out of control.

“Shit, I haven't done this in a while,” he apologized, trying to dampen the flames and save their dinner. But a minute later, there was a minor explosion. Coop and Alex heard it from the dining room, where they were having an elegant dinner, courtesy of Wolfgang. They were having Peking duck, and three different kinds of pasta, with a big tossed salad and homemade bread.

“What was that?” Alex asked, looking worried.

“The IRA, I think,” Coop suggested, seeming unconcerned, as they went on eating. “My houseguests probably blew up the guest wing.” But as Alex looked over his shoulder out the window, she could see billows of smoke coming through the trees, and the next thing she saw were flames as a small bush caught fire.

“Oh my God, Coop I think the trees are burning.”

He was about to tell her not to worry about it, when he turned to look and saw the same thing.

“I'll get a fire extinguisher,” he said practically, without knowing if he even had one, and if so, where it was kept.

“You'd better call 911.” She pulled her cell phone out of her bag without hesitating, and called them as Coop ran outside to see what had happened.

Mark was standing at the barbecue outside the guest wing, looking mortified, as he and Jimmy tried to squelch the flames with towels. It was a totally unsuccessful effort, and by the time the fire trucks roared through the gate ten minutes later, there was a good-sized blaze going. Alex was horrified, and Coop was worried about the house. It took the firemen less than three minutes to put it out. No great damage had been done, except that several of the neatly trimmed hedges had been scorched pretty badly. But by then, the firemen had spotted Coop, and for the next ten minutes he was signing autographs, and exchanging war stories with them, including his experiences as a volunteer firefighter in Malibu thirty years before.

He offered them each a glass of wine, which they declined, but they were still standing around admiring him and enjoying his stories half an hour later, while Mark continued to apologize, and Coop assured him there was no harm done, when Alex's pager went off, and she called the hospital on her cell phone while the others talked.

She walked away from the center of conversation so she could hear better. Two of their preemies had coded, and one had died. The resident on duty had his hands full and needed her to come in. A new patient was on its way in, a preemie that was hydrocephalic. She glanced at her watch as she approached the group again. She had promised to be back at the hospital in fifteen minutes, or less, if she could.

“What's your specialty?” Jimmy asked quietly as the others continued chatting. Coop had noticed neither her page, nor the conversation on the cell phone. He was too busy talking to the firemen and entertaining the entire group, but Jimmy had been intrigued by the questions he'd heard her ask on her cell. She sounded competent in the extreme.

“Neonatology I'm a resident at UCLA.”

“It must be interesting,” he said pleasantly, as she caught Coop's attention and told him she had to leave.

“Don't let these two arsonists scare you off,” Coop said with a grin in Mark's direction. Coop was being remarkably relaxed about the entire episode, which impressed Alex no end. Her father would have had a fit.

“They didn't,” she smiled at him, “what's a little bonfire among friends? The hospital called me. I have to go in.”

“They did? When? I didn't hear anything.”

“You were busy. I've got to be there in ten minutes. I'm really sorry.” She had warned him, but it was always disconcerting when it happened. And she'd been having a nice time with him.

“Why don't you just have a quick bite to eat before you go. It looks like an awfully good dinner.”

“I know. I'd love to stay, but they need me. They've just had two emergencies, and there's another one on its way in. I've got to run,” she said apologetically. She could see that Coop was disappointed, and so was she, but she was used to it. “I had a great time anyway. I loved the swim.” She had been there for almost three hours, which was practically a record when she was on call. She said goodbye to Jimmy and Mark, and Coop walked her back to her car, as the firemen packed their gear on the trucks, and she promised to call him later. He was back in the group two minutes later, smiling and at ease.

“Well, that was short and sweet,” he said with a rueful look at his tenants. They had grown accustomed to being called “houseguests.” And he seemed to actually believe they were.

“What a nice woman,” Mark said admiringly, sorry that she was Coop's, or seemed to be, and not available for closer inspection, although she was a little young for him. But she was even younger for Coop. Like most of the women he dated, he could have been her grandfather.

“Would you gentlemen like to join me for dinner?” he suggested to Jimmy and Mark, whose hamburgers had turned to ashes in the ill-fated barbecue. “Wolfgang Puck sent over a very creditable meal, and I hate to eat alone,” he said pleasantly, as the last of the firemen drove away.

Half an hour later, Coop and his “houseguests” were enjoying Peking duck, the assortment of pastas, and the salmon pizza, and Coop was regaling them with more of his stories. He poured the wine liberally, and by the time the two younger men left at ten o'clock, they had had a lot to drink, and they felt as though they had a new friend in Coop, or a very old one. The wine had been exceptional, and the dinner delicious. And he seemed no worse for wear when they left him.

“He's a great guy,” Mark commented to Jimmy as they walked toward the guest wing.

“He's a character certainly,” Jimmy agreed, realizing through the haze that surrounded him that he was going to have a hell of a headache in the morning, but at the moment it seemed worth it to him. It had been a very amusing evening. More than he could ever have dreamed it would be. Hanging out with a famous movie star seemed totally surreal.

The two friends said goodnight to each other, Mark went back to the guest wing, and Jimmy to the gatehouse, as Coop sat in the library, smiling to himself, sipping a glass of port. He'd had a very pleasant evening, although different than he'd expected. He was sorry that Alex had had to leave so early, but his two tenants had been fun, and surprisingly good company. And the firemen had added a little spice to the evening.

As Alex sat in her office at the hospital, sipping a cup of coffee, it was midnight before she had time to call Coop, and by then, she was sure it was too late to call. She hadn't had the evening she had expected to have either. The hydrocephalic baby had come in and was in a lot of trouble. And the first one that had coded earlier was doing a lot better. The one they had lost was a heartbreak for all of them. She wondered if she'd ever get used to that, but it was the nature of her business. And as she settled down on a cot in her office to get some sleep, she wondered what it would be like if she ever took Coop seriously, if one even could. It was hard to know who he really was behind the charm, and the wit, and the stories. She wondered if it was all a facade, or if there was someone real inside. It was hard to say, but she was tempted to find out.

She realized too that the age difference between them was considerable, but he was such an extraordinary man, she really didn't care about his age. There was something about Coop that made her want to ignore all the possible risks of being involved with him. He was enchanting and mesmerizing and captivating. She kept trying to remind herself that going out with him might not be such a wise idea. He was older, he was a movie star, and he had been involved with innumerable women over the years. But all she could think of was how dazzling and immensely appealing he was. The lure of him seemed to outweigh the downsides in her mind. She was hooked. And as she drifted off to sleep, she heard little warning bells go off in her head, but for the moment, she decided to ignore them all and see where things went.

Chapter 10

Mark was in a deep sleep, assisted by the wine he had drunk with Jimmy and Coop, when he heard the phone ring. He started to wake up, and then decided he was imagining it. He had had a lot to drink, and he knew if he opened his eyes, he would have a serious headache, so he kept his eyes closed and went on sleeping. But it continued ringing. He opened an eye finally and saw that it was 4 A.M. He turned over with a groan, and then realized he wasn't dreaming. The phone really was ringing, and he couldn't imagine who was calling him at that hour. He reached for the phone, and lay on his back with his eyes closed. The headache was already starting.

“Hello?” His voice sounded gruff, and the room was spinning. And for an instant, all Mark could hear was crying. “Who is this?” He wondered if it was a wrong number, and then his eyes flew open as he came fully awake. It was his daughter, calling from New York. “Jessie? Baby, are you okay? What happened?” He thought maybe something terrible had happened to Janet, or Jason. But all Jessica could do was cry. They were sobs of anguish, she sounded like a wounded animal, or the way she had as a little girl when their dog died. “Talk to me, Jess… what is it?” He was panicked.

“It's Mom “She went back to sobbing.

“Did she get hurt?” He sat up in bed and winced. He felt like someone had hit him in the head with a brick, but his adrenaline was pumping. What if she was dead? He felt sick at the thought of it. Even if she had left him, he still loved her, and would have been heartbroken if she died.

“She has a boyfriendl” Jessica wailed, as he realized it was seven o'clock in the morning in New York, but only four in California. “We met him last night, and he's a total jerk!”

“I'm sure he's not, sweetheart,” Mark said, trying to be fair, but in some part of him, he was relieved that Jessica didn't like him. Mark hated him. He had destroyed their family and stolen Janet. How great a guy could he be after all that? Not very, in Mark's estimation. And apparently in Jessie's as well.

“He's a creep, Dad. He tries to act like he's really cool, and he orders Mom around like he owns her. She says she just met him a few weeks ago, but I don't believe her. I know she's lying. He keeps talking about stuff they did six months ago, and last year, and Mom keeps acting like she doesn't know what he's talking about, and trying to make him stop talking about it. Do you think that's why she wanted us to move to New York?” The ceiling had fallen in on Jessica, and Janet had been very foolish to lie to the children. He had wondered how she was going to handle it, and when. Well, she'd done it, and badly, judging by Jessie's sobs.

“I don't know, Jess. You have to ask her.”

“Is that why she left you?” They were heavy questions for the middle of the night, and not any he wanted to answer, surely not with a hangover of the degree he was developing. He already had a headache of mammoth proportions. “Do you think she had a boyfriend? Is that why she went to New York all the time when Grandma was sick, and after she died?”

“She told me she was worried about Grampa. And Grandma was very sick for a long time, she needed to be there,” he said honestly. He thought Janet should level with her about the rest, eventually. If she didn't, Jessica would never trust her. And he couldn't blame her. He didn't trust her anymore either.

“I want to come back to California,” Jessica said bluntly, sniffing loudly. But she was no longer sobbing.

“So do I,” Jason said, echoing her words. He had gotten on the extension. He wasn't crying, but he sounded badly shaken. “I hate him, Dad. You would too. He's a real asshole.”

“New York hasn't improved your language. You have to discuss all this calmly with your mother, not in the heat of the moment. And much as I hate to say it, you have to give this guy a chance.” It was unlikely that they would be enthusiastic about anyone their mother dated. Or that he did, if he ever found anyone he wanted to date. He wasn't there yet. “He may turn out to be a very nice guy, no matter how long she's known him. And if he's important to your mom, you may have to get used to him. You can't make your minds up after five minutes.” He was trying to be reasonable with them, for their sake as well as hers, but they didn't want to hear it. But stoking the fires against the man their mother was in love with, and had left him for, was only going to make the children more unhappy. If she married Adam eventually, they would have to accept him. There was no other choice.

“We had dinner with him, Dad,” Jason said unhappily. “He treats Mom like he can make her do whatever he tells her, and she acts really dumb around him. She yelled at us after he left, and then she cried. I think she really likes him.”

“Maybe she does,” Mark said sadly.

“I want to come home, Dad,” Jessica said, sounding agonized. But there was no home to come back to. They had sold it. “I want to go to my old school, and live with you,” she insisted.

“Me too,” Jason echoed.

“Speaking of which, shouldn't you guys be leaving for school right about now?” It was almost seven-thirty in New York, and he could hear Janet saying something to them from the background. He wasn't sure, but it sounded like she was shouting. She would have been shouting even louder if she'd known what they'd been saying to him, but he suspected she had no idea. He wondered if she even knew that he was on the line, and they had called him.

“Will you talk to Mom about our coming back to California?” Jessica asked in an undertone, confirming his suspicions that their mother didn't know who they were calling.

“No. You two have to give it a chance there. It's too soon to do anything hasty. I want you both to settle down and try to be reasonable. And right now, I want you to go to school. We'll talk about this later.” Much later. When the hangover was no longer hammering right behind his eyes.

They still sounded miserable when they got off the phone, and for the first time in two months, Jessica told him she loved him. But he knew it was only because at the moment she hated her mother. Eventually, the furor would die down, and they might even like Adam once they got to know him. Janet said he was a wonderful man. But in his heart of hearts, Mark still hoped they would hate Adam, out of loyalty to him. Given what Janet had done, it was hard not to feel that way.

Mark lay in bed thinking after he hung up, and wondering what he should do. For the moment, nothing, he decided. He was going to sit tight and see what happened. He rolled over in bed and tried to get to sleep again, but his head was pounding, and he was worried about them. It was six o'clock when he finally gave in to his own anxieties, and called their mother. She sounded nearly as unhappy as the children had earlier that morning.

“I'm glad you called,” she said, surprised to hear him. “The kids met Adam last night, and they were awful to him.”

“I'm not surprised. Are you? It's too soon for them to accept the idea that you're dating. And maybe they suspect you've known him for a while.”

“That's what Jessica accused me of. You didn't tell her, did you?” she asked, sounding panicked.

“No, but I think you should, eventually. Otherwise, one of you will slip sometime, and they'll figure it out. They already suspect it, from things he said.”

“How do you know?” She sounded startled, and he decided to be honest with her.

“They called me. They were pretty unhappy.”

“Jessie slammed into her room and locked the door halfway through dinner, and Jason wouldn't even talk to him, or me. Jessie says she hates me.” Mark could hear tears in Janet's voice.

“She doesn't hate you. She's hurt and angry, and she's suspicious of you. And she's right. We both know that.”

“That's none of her business,” Janet said hotly, feeling guilty.

“Maybe not, but she thinks it is. Maybe you should have waited to bring him around.” She didn't want to tell Mark that Adam had been putting pressure on her to introduce him to the children, and she had acceded to his wishes. She didn't think they were ready either, but he said he refused to stay hidden any longer. If she was serious about him, he wanted to meet them. And it had been a disaster. She and Adam had had a huge fight afterwards, and he had stormed off, slamming the door behind him. It had been a nightmarish evening.

“What am I going to do?” Janet asked, sounding worried and anxious.

“Wait. Go easy on them. Give them time.” She didn't want to tell him that Adam wanted to move in immediately, he didn't want to wait until they got married, and she wasn't sure she could stall him. She didn't want to lose him. Or her children. She felt pulled in all directions.

“This isn't as easy as you think, Mark,” she said in a plaintive tone that made her sound like the victim, and they both knew she wasn't.

“Just don't screw our kids up in the process,” he warned her. “I don't know how you can expect me to be sympathetic about this, or the kids for that matter. The truth is you did break up our marriage for him, and sooner or later, the kids are going to know that. That's a lot for them to swallow.” It had been a lot for him to swallow, except that he had loved her, and still did. “They have a right to be angry. At both of you.” It was the fairest thing he could say. He hated the fact that he was always the peacemaker, but he always seemed to be able to see all sides of a problem, not just his own. It was one of his great strengths, and failings, vis-à-vis her.

“Yeah. Maybe so. But I'm not sure he understands that. He doesn't have children, and he doesn't understand a lot about them.”

“Then maybe you should have found another guy. Like me, for instance.” She didn't answer, and he felt foolish for having said it. The wine and the port and the brandy weren't helping, nor was his headache. His hangover was already in full swing and he hadn't even gotten up yet. It had been a busy morning for him so far.

“I guess they'll calm down eventually,” Janet said hopefully, but Adam wasn't going to tolerate it if they didn't. He wanted them to like him, and he was insulted by the way they'd behaved, and threatened her about it.

“Stay in touch,” Mark said, and then hung up. He lay in bed for another two hours after that, unable to sleep, with his head pounding. It was nearly nine when he got up, and after ten when he got to the office. And the kids were back on the phone with him at lunchtime. They had just gotten home from school, and they were insistent that they wanted to come and live with him, but he told them he wasn't going to do anything hasty. He wanted them to calm down and at least try to be fair to their mother. But all Jessica could say was that she hated her, and she'd never speak to her again if she married Adam.

“We want to come and live with you, Dad,” Jessica insisted. She was relentless.

“And what if I go out with someone you don't like? You can't keep running away from things like this, Jessie.”

“Are you dating, Dad?” She sounded shocked. She hadn't even thought about that prospect, nor had Jason.

“No, but I will someday, presumably, and you might not like her either.”

“You didn't leave Mom for her. I think Mom left you for Adam.” He realized that if he hadn't known the truth himself, it would have been a brutal piece of information for him. Kids certainly didn't hesitate to throw bombs or information. But he did know. And Jessica's suspicions were accurate. He didn't want to tell her the truth, but he didn't want to lie to her either. “I'll run away if you make us live with her, Dad.”

“Don't threaten me, Jess. That's not fair. You're old enough to know better. And you're getting your brother worked up. We'll talk about all this when we go on vacation together. You may feel differently about it by then. You may decide you like him after all.”

“Never!” she said vehemently.

For the next two weeks, it was a constant battle. Tears, threats, calls in the middle of the night. Adam had actually been foolish enough to tell them he wanted to live with them and their mother. By the time Mark picked them up in New York, they were waging a full-scale war on their mother. And it was all they talked about during the vacation. And Janet had her hands full with Adam. He was telling her that if she didn't let him move in, he would feel that she was choosing her children over him. He said he had waited long enough for her. He wanted a life with her now, and her children. But her children didn't want him. And as a result, they didn't want Janet either. At the end of the vacation, Mark sat down with Janet, and told her he had no idea how to make them settle down and stay with her. Jessica was threatening to call a child advocacy lawyer, and ask the court to send her to her father. And she was old enough not only to do it, but to have the court listen, and so was Jason.

“I think you have a major problem on your hands here,” Mark told her honestly. “There's no way to de-escalate this right now. What about letting them come back to LA till the end of the school year? You can renegotiate with them then. But I think you're only going to make things worse now if you force them to stay here. They are not willing to listen, or compromise.”

She had handled the entire situation abominably, and she was paying the piper, and they both knew it. She felt torn in opposite directions, loyalty to Adam, and loyalty to her children. And the two factions were in direct conflict one hundred percent of the time.

“Will you send them back to me at the end of the school year?” she asked, looking panicked. She didn't want to lose her children. Or Adam. And he had not only told her he wanted to marry her as soon as the ink on the divorce was dry, but he wanted her to get pregnant. He wanted them to have a baby, maybe two. She couldn't even imagine selling that to her children. But she'd deal with that later. Right now they were threatening to move out and go back to their father.

“I don't know what I'd do,” Mark said honestly about the following school year. “It depends what they want.” She had created an incredible mess for herself, and Mark almost felt sorry for her. But he was torn by his own feelings too. She had damn near killed him when she left him, and the worst of it was that he still loved her, but he didn't tell her that. She was completely obsessed with Adam, enough so to jeopardize not only her marriage, but her relationship with her children. In Mark's eyes, she'd made a very bad bargain. He wouldn't have sacrificed anything for his children, and they knew it, which was why they wanted to come and live with him.

“Can you get them back into their old school?” Janet asked, dabbing at her eyes. She had never expected anything like this to happen, or she might not have left him. And now she had Adam on her hands, ready for a full-scale battle, to force her to allow him to move in with them.

“I don't know. Maybe. I'll try to get them into their old school,” Mark said, mulling it over.

“Is your place big enough?” She was almost resigned to the idea. She could see that she had no other choice, unless she stopped seeing Adam, or hid him from them, and she knew he wouldn't let her do that.

“It's perfect for them,” Mark reassured her. He described the grounds of The Cottage to her, and she cried as she listened. She knew she was going to be miserable without them, but maybe if they went to stay with Mark for a few months, they might ease into it when they got back. She hoped so. “I'll see what I can do when I go back, and I'll call you.” Both children pounced on him after he'd talked to Janet, and wanted to know what their parents had agreed on. “Nothing yet,” he said sternly to both of them, “we'll see what happens. I don't even know if I can get you back into school. And whatever happens, I want you to be nice to your mother in the meantime. This is hard for her too. She loves you.”

“If she loved us, she'd have stayed with you,” Jessica said bluntly with eyes full of anger. She was a pretty blonde teenager with a heart full of scars now. Mark just hoped he could minimize any future damage. He didn't want their divorce to destroy his children. That was the last thing he wanted.

“It doesn't always work that way, Jess,” he said sadly. “People change… lives change… you can't always have what you thought you would, or do what you said you would. Life throws curves at you.” But they didn't want to hear it. They were still furious with their mother, and her boyfriend.

He flew back to California that night, and spent the next week negotiating with their school to let them back in. They had been gone for less than three months, and they were in an excellent school in New York, so they hadn't lost any ground. And by the end of the week, their old school in Los Angeles had agreed to take them back. The rest was simple. All he had to do was hire a babysitter to keep an eye on them while he was at the office, and drive them to their after-school activities and sports. He didn't think that was going to be a problem, and he called Janet over the weekend.

“We're all set. They can start on Monday if they want, but I figured you'd want at least another week with them, to make your peace with them. It's up to you when you send them.”

“Thanks, Mark. Thanks for being so decent. I guess I don't deserve it. I'm going to miss them so much,” she said, and started to cry again. This whole chapter had been an agony in their lives, and now for their children.

“They'll miss you too. Once they stop being pissed off at you, they'll probably want to come back to school in New York after the summer.”

“I'm not so sure. They're pretty emphatic about Adam, and he has very definite ideas. It's hard for him to start parenting with teenagers, particularly since he's never had children.” From Mark's perspective, it sounded like a miserable situation, and he didn't envy Janet. He and the kids were calling the shots, and she was bouncing like a ball between them. She had never done well in stressful situations. He had always handled everything for her. Except her affair with Adam. She had managed that on her own, and screwed up everyone's life in the process.

She told the children on Sunday, and they didn't even have the grace to pretend they were sorry they were leaving. They both cheered, and Jessica started packing half an hour later. They would have gladly left the next day, but Janet insisted they spend another week with her. And she told them they would have to come home for the summer. She and Adam had already agreed to get married in July, when the divorce was final, but she didn't tell them that. She was afraid they'd never come back if she told them the news. She'd have to figure that out later.

It was an agonizing week for her, knowing they were leaving, and the following Saturday, she put them on a plane to California. Mark had decided not to hire a babysitter for them, he told her he had made an arrangement with his landlord's housekeeper. She was going to babysit for them. He was going to drive them to their activities himself, and shorten his workday if he had to. They were worth it.

Janet stood in the airport looking devastated when they left. They had hugged her before they left her, and Jason hesitated for a long moment. Even if he didn't want to stay, he felt sorry for her. But Jessica never even looked back. She just kissed her mother, said goodbye, and walked straight down the gangway. She could hardly wait to get to California, and see her dad.

And the scene at the other end was one of unreserved jubilation. Mark was waiting for them as they got off the plane, and the kids gave a whoop of joy. There were tears in his eyes as he held them. Things were finally beginning to look up for him. He had lost Janet irreversibly, maybe through his own fault, maybe not, but he had his kids back. That was all he wanted.

Chapter 11

Alex's work schedule was a whole new world for Cooper Winslow. He had never known another woman like her. He'd been involved with career women before, and even a couple of lawyers, but never a doctor. And not a resident. His dating life with her consisted of pizzas, fast food, and Chinese takeout, and nearly every meal, movie, and evening was interrupted by calls from the hospital. She couldn't help it. It was why most residents had no personal life, and most of them dated doctors or nurses, or other med students or residents. Dating a famous movie star was a whole other experience for her. But she was clear about the demands on her time, and she did the best she could to juggle. Coop did his best to adjust to it. He was excited about her. And most of the time, he forgot about her fortune. Every now and then, it crossed his mind, and it only enhanced the package further. Like a red ribbon on a Christmas gift. But he tried not to think about it. His only concern was how her parents would feel about him. So far, he hadn't dared discuss it with her.

Things were moving slowly between them, partially because of the number of hours and days she worked, and in part because she'd been badly burned, and was extremely cautious. She didn't want to make another mistake, and she had no intention of moving quickly with Coop. He had kissed her after the fifth date, but they had gone no further, and he didn't press her. He was smarter than that, and far more patient. He wasn't going to sleep with her until she begged him for it. He knew instinctively that if he pushed her, she might back off or bolt, and he didn't want that to happen. He was more than willing to wait until she was ready for him to make a move. He was exquisitely patient.

And Charlene had finally disappeared off his screen. After two weeks of his not responding to her calls, she had stopped calling. Even Paloma approved of Alex. It would have been hard not to. But Paloma felt sorry for her, and wondered if she knew what she was getting into, although Coop was behaving for the time being. Even when he wasn't with Alex, he stayed at home at night and read scripts, or went out with friends. He went to another, smaller dinner at the Schwartzes', but Alex couldn't make it this time, she was working. And he didn't mention her to them. He didn't think it was a good idea for people to know they were dating. He wanted to keep every possible breath of scandal from her. He knew how proper and decent she was, and she would have hated being dragged through the tabloids, as a member of a chorus line he was now trying to avoid. She knew of his reputation to some extent, he had been a glamorous playboy around Hollywood for decades after all, but he preferred to keep the details from her.

And at the places where they dined, they were unlikely to catch the attention of the tabloids. He hadn't taken her to a decent restaurant yet, simply because she never had the time or the energy for an elegant evening. She was always working. It was a major victory when they went to a movie. And she enjoyed coming to The Cottage whenever she was off on the weekends. She swam in the pool, and she cooked dinner for him one night, and then had to leave before she could eat it with him. She was used to it, but it was a major adjustment for Coop. He had had no idea what he was getting into. But it seemed challenging, and she was so bright and intelligent, the obstacles and inconveniences seemed worth it to him.

She enjoyed chatting with Mark when she ran into him at the pool. He talked a lot about his kids, and shared with her one night, the problems he was having with them and Janet, and Adam. He admitted to Alex that he didn't really want them to like the man who had destroyed his marriage, and at the same time he didn't want his kids to be unhappy. Alex felt sorry for him, and liked talking to him.

She saw less of Jimmy than she did of Mark. He seemed to work almost as hard as she did. He visited foster homes on some evenings, and coached a softball team in the projects. But Mark always said what a great guy he was, and he told her what he knew about Maggie. Her heart went out to him as she listened, but Jimmy never talked about his wife when Alex saw him. He kept to himself a lot of the time, and he seemed uncomfortable around women. He hated the fact that he was single again. In his heart, he was still married. And by then, she had figured out that they were both tenants, although Coop never admitted it to her, and she never questioned him about it. She figured it was none of her business what his financial arrangements were with them.

She had dated Coop for three weeks when he invited her to go away for a weekend. She said she would see if she could get the time, although she doubted it, and was amazed when she found she could arrange it. Her only condition was separate rooms at the hotel. She wasn't ready to commit her body to the relationship yet. She wanted to take her time, and move slowly, but she was immensely attracted to him. And she told Coop she would pay for her own hotel room. They were going to stay at a resort he knew in Mexico, and she was excited about it. She hadn't taken a vacation since she started her residency, and she loved to travel. Two days of sun and fun with him sounded like heaven to her. And she assumed that by going to Mexico, they would avoid any noise in the tabloids. No one would know what they were up to. It was a naive assessment on her part, and Coop didn't disabuse her of it. It suited his purposes not to. He wanted to go away with her, and didn't want to discourage her from going by frightening her about the press. He wanted to keep everything simple and pleasant.

They left on a Friday night, and the hotel was even more beautiful than he had promised her it would be. They had connecting rooms, and an enormous living room and patio, their own pool, and a little private beach just beyond it. They never saw anyone, except when they wanted to. And in the late afternoon, they went into town, wandered into shops, and sat at outdoor cafes drinking margaritas. It felt like a honeymoon, and on the second night, just as he had hoped she would, she seduced him. She wasn't even drunk when she did it. She wanted to. She was falling in love with him. No man had ever been as kind to her, as thoughtful, or as gentle. He was not only a wonderful companion, and a great friend, but the perfect lover. Cooper Winslow knew his way around women. He knew what they wanted, what they liked to do, and how they liked to be treated, as well as what they needed. She had never enjoyed shopping with anyone as much as she did with Coop, she had never talked as easily to anyone, never laughed as much, had never been as spoiled. She had never known anyone like him.

She was also surprised by how many autographs he signed, and how many people stopped him to take his photograph. It seemed like the whole world knew him. But none as well as she did. Or at least that was what it felt like to her. He seemed surprisingly willing to share not only his life and his history, but his innermost secrets with her. And she reciprocated easily. She was entirely open with him.

“What are your parents going to think about us?” Coop asked after they made love for the first time. It had been a memorable experience. And they sat in their private pool afterwards, naked in the moonlight, with music in the distance. It had been the most romantic night of her life.

“God knows,” she said, looking pensive. “My father's never liked anyone in his life, man or woman, including his children and my mother. He's suspicious of everyone. But it's hard to imagine him not liking you, Coop. You're respectable, you're well born, you're polite, intelligent, charming, successful. What's to object to?”

“He may not like the difference in our ages.” For a start.

“That's possible. But some days you look younger than I do.” She smiled at him in the moonlight, and they kissed again. He hadn't told her that there was also a difference in their circumstances, that she was solvent, and he wasn't. It pained him to admit it. It wasn't a reality he faced often. But it was nice knowing she wasn't financially dependent on him. That had always been an issue for him. He had never wanted to take on a wife, when his own circumstances weren't stable, and most of the time, they weren't. Even when he had money, it slipped right through his hands. He didn't need help spending it, and most of the women he had known had been fearfully expensive. Alex wasn't, and she had her own anyway, so it wasn't an issue. For the first time in his life, he was actually thinking about marriage. In a vague, distant way of course, but it no longer terrified him to the same degree. Much to his own amazement, he could actually contemplate settling down with her, without wanting Dr. Kevorkian to officiate at the wedding. He had always thought he would have preferred suicide to marriage. The two had always seemed equally lethal, and synonymous to some degree. But with Alex, everything was different. And he said so, in the magical Mexican night, as he kissed her.

“I'm not there yet, Coop,” she said softly, always honest with him. She loved him, but didn't want to mislead him. She was by no means ready for marriage, both because of her medical career, and her previous brush with disaster as she approached the altar. She didn't want another disappointment, but Coop seemed like the one man who wouldn't do that to her.

“I'm not there yet either,” he whispered. “But at least it doesn't give me shingles when I think about it. For me, that's an improvement.” She liked the fact that they were both cautious about marriage. So much so, that he had never done it before. When she'd asked him about it, he had said that he'd never found the right girl. But now he was beginning to think he finally had. Alex was a woman worth having for a lifetime.

The weekend they shared was magical, and when they flew back to LA, they were both starry-eyed and sorry to leave each other.

“Do you want to stay at the house with me?” he asked as he drove her home from the airport, and she looked pensive as she thought about it.

“Want to, yes. But probably shouldn't.” She still wanted to move slowly. She was afraid to get used to it, and then have something go wrong that would spoil it. “I'm going to miss you tonight though.”

“So will I,” he said, and meant it. He felt like a new man. He insisted on carrying her bag up to her apartment. He had never seen it, and he was shocked when he did. He was stunned by the stacks of discarded hospital scrub suits, lying in piles, the medical books stacked sky high on the floor, the bathroom with no frills and no amenities. All she had was soap, toilet paper, and towels. She hardly had any furniture, no curtains, no rugs, no decor. “For God's sake, Alex, it looks like a barracks.” She had never bothered to decorate it. She didn't have time, and she didn't care. All she did was sleep there. “If anyone sees this, they're going to condemn it.” All he could do was laugh at the way she lived. She was so exquisite and so delicate, but all she had cared about for years was being a doctor. He had seen gas stations that were more inviting. “I think you should throw a match into this place and move in with me immediately.” But he knew she wouldn't. She was far too cautious and independent to do that. Not for a while at least. But in spite of the unmade bed and the grim decor, he spent the night with her, and got up with her when she left for work at six o'clock the next morning. And when he got back to The Cottage, he truly missed her. He had never felt that way before about any woman.

Paloma came in later that morning, and when she saw the look on his face, she was intrigued. She was beginning to think he really was in love with the young doctor. It almost made her like him better. Maybe he had a heart after all.

He was out at a series of appointments all afternoon, and posed for the cover of GQ. It was six o'clock when he got home, and he knew Alex was still working. She was going to be at the hospital until the next morning. She had to pay her dues for the trip to Mexico. She was going to have to work for several days to pay people back for the shifts they had taken for her.

He had just settled down in the library with a glass of champagne, and put some music on, when he heard a terrifying sound at the front door. It sounded like a machine gun, or a series of explosions, as though part of the house were falling down, and he got up to look out the window. At first he didn't see anything, and then he caught a glimpse of a young boy, and Coop's eyes opened wide with amazement. The little hooligan was riding a skateboard down the marble steps, and using it to do exotic jumps, and land on the marble that stretched out around it. He did it again and again, and with a few quick strides, Coop reached the front door and yanked it open with a look of fury. The marble had been there since 1918, unblemished, and the juvenile delinquent skateboarding on it was going to destroy it.

“What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm going to call the police if you don't get out of here in the next three seconds. How did you get on this property?” The alarms should have gone off when he climbed over the gate, and hadn't. Coop couldn't imagine any other way for him to get there. The boy stood staring up at him in terror and amazement.

All he could think of to say was, “My father lives here,” in a strangled voice as he clutched his skateboard to his chest. He had never contemplated for an instant the damage he might do to the marble. It just looked like a good place to practice jumps, and he'd been having a great time doing it, until Coop opened the door and shouted at him, threatening to have him arrested.

“What do you mean your father lives here? I live here, and thank God, I'm not your father!” Coop said, still in a fury. “Who are you?”

“I'm Jason Friedman.” The boy looked like he was shaking, and he dropped the skateboard with a clatter, which made them both jump. “My father lives in the guest wing.” He had arrived the night before from New York, with his sister. And he loved the place. He had spent all afternoon exploring it, after he got back from school. The night before, Mark had introduced him and Jessica to Jimmy, and they'd had dinner with him. Jason had only heard about Coop from his father. And Coop was in Mexico for the weekend when they arrived. And to add insult to injury, Jason looked at him, and added, “And now I live here too, and so does my sister. We got here yesterday, from New York.” All the boy wanted was not to get arrested. He was willing to offer name, rank, and serial number, and any information Coop wanted to prevent that from happening.

“What do you mean, you ‘live’ here? How long are you staying?” He wanted to know how long he had to endure the presence of the enemy within his borders. He vaguely remembered Liz telling him that Mark had children who would come to visit from New York occasionally, but only for a few days and very rarely.

“We left our mom in New York, and we came to live with our dad. We hated her boyfriend.” It was more information than Jason would have offered normally, but Coop was more than a little daunting.

“I'm sure he hated you too, if you took a skateboard to his marble steps. If you ever do that again, I will personally whip you.”

“My father wouldn't let you,” Jason said fiercely. He had decided the man was crazy. He knew he was a movie star, but first he had threatened to have him arrested, and now he was threatening to whip him. “You'd end up in jail. But anyway,” he backed down slightly, “I'm sorry. I didn't hurt them.”

“You could have. Have you actually moved here?” That was the most horrifying piece of information he'd had so far, and he hoped the boy was lying. But he had a gnawing terror that he wasn't. “Your father didn't tell me you were moving in.”

“It was kind of a last-minute decision, because of the boyfriend. We just got here yesterday, and we started back at our old school today. My sister's in high school.”

“I don't find that reassuring,” Coop said, looking at him with anguish. This couldn't be happening to him. These two children couldn't have come to live in his guest wing. He was going to have to evict them. As quickly as possible before they burned the place to the ground, or damaged something. He was going to call his lawyer. “I'll speak to your father,” he said menacingly, “and give me that,” he said, reaching for the skateboard, but Jason took a big step back from him, unwilling to give it up. It was his prize possession, and he'd brought it with him from New York.

“I said I was sorry,” Jason reminded him.

“You said a great many things, mostly about your mother's boyfriend.” Coop was all aristocratic grandeur as he looked down at him from the top step. He was a tall man, and Jason was standing on the marble which led to the steps. From where he stood, Coop looked like a giant.

“He's an asshole. We hate him,” Jason volunteered about the boyfriend.

“That's very unfortunate. But that doesn't mean you can come to live in my house. Not by a long shot,” he said, glowering at him. “Tell your father I'll speak to him in the morning.” And with that, he walked back into the main house and slammed the door, as Jason skated hell-for-leather back to the guest wing, and recounted a modified version of the encounter to his father.

“You shouldn't have skated on the steps, Jase. It's an old house, and you could have damaged them.”

“I told him I was sorry. He was a real shithead.”

“He's a nice guy actually. He's just not used to having kids here. We have to go a little easy on him.”

“Can he make us leave?”

“I don't think so. That would be discrimination, unless you do something awful and give him reasonable cause. Do me a favor, try not to.” Both kids had loved the place when they saw it. And Mark was thrilled to have them with him. They had been beside themselves with joy when they saw their old friends at school. Jessica was already on the phone, with everyone she knew. And Mark had been cooking dinner. They had met Paloma in the courtyard that afternoon, and she loved them. But her employer was significantly less enchanted. He still didn't know that Paloma occasionally did laundry and some minor housekeeping for Mark in her spare time.

Coop had poured himself a stiff drink the minute he slammed the door, and sat down to page Alex. She called him five minutes later. She could hear in his voice that something terrible had happened.

“My house has been taken over by aliens,” he said in a voice that was so shaken it didn't sound like him.

“Are you all right?” She sounded worried.

“No, I'm not. Mark's children have moved in. I've only met one of them, but he's a juvenile delinquent. I'm going to start eviction proceedings immediately. But I may have a nervous breakdown in the meantime. The boy was skateboarding on my front steps, doing jumps off the marble.” She laughed when he said it, and was relieved that it was nothing serious. But Coop sounded as though the house had fallen in.

“I don't think you can evict them. There are all kinds of laws to protect people with children,” she said sensibly, amused by how upset he was. He truly hated kids, just as he'd said he did.

“I need laws to protect me. You know how I hate children.”

“I guess that means we won't be having any, huh?” She was teasing him, but it occurred to him that that could be a major obstacle for her. He hadn't thought about it, but she was young enough to want children. And he was in no mood to think about it now.

“We can certainly discuss it,” he said reasonably. “Your children would be civilized at least. Mark's aren't. Or at least not this one. He says his sister is in high school. She probably smokes crack and deals drugs at her school.”

“It may not be quite as bad as all that, Coop. How long will they be there?”

“It sounds like forever. Tomorrow would be too long. I'm going to call him in the morning and inquire.”

“Well, try not to get yourself in a state over it.” But she could hear that he already was.

“I'm becoming an alcoholic. I think I have a severe allergy to anyone under the age of twenty-five. He can't possibly intend to have his children live here. And what if I can't throw them out?”

“We'll make the best of it, and teach them to behave.”

“You're sweet to say that, my love. But some people cannot be taught. I told him I'd whip him if he skate-boarded on my steps again, and he said he'd have me put in jail.” They were definitely off to a rocky start. But threatening to whip him had hardly been the politically correct thing to say.

“Just tell Mark to keep them out of your hair. He's a nice guy. I'm sure he'll understand.”

The next day, when Coop called him, Mark apologized profusely for any disturbance Jason had caused. He explained the circumstances to Coop, all of them, and said that he was sure the kids would go back to Janet at the end of the school year. More than likely, they would only be there for three months.

It sounded like a death sentence to Coop. All he wanted to hear was that they were leaving the next day. But there wasn't a chance. Mark swore they would behave, and Coop resigned himself to living cheek by jowl with them. He knew he had no other choice. He had called his attorney before calling Mark, and Alex had been right. He was stuck with Jason and Jessica, and even the letter of apology Mark forced Jason to write barely mollified Coop. He was furious that Mark had somehow snuck them in on him. Coop didn't want to run a high school or a nursery, or a Cub Scout troop, or a skateboard park. He didn't want children within a hundred miles of his house, or his life. He just hoped their mother's romance ended quickly, and they'd go back to her soon.

Chapter 12

After Coop's initial run-in with him, Mark told Jason to stay away from the main wing of the house at all times, and only use his skateboard on the driveway. Jason saw Coop drive in a few times, but there was no further incident, at least for the first two weeks of their living there. They were happy to be back in LA with their old pals, loved their school, and thought their new home was really “cool,” in spite of what they referred to as their crabby landlord. He continued to take a dim view of them, but both the realtor and his attorneys had told him there was nothing he could do. There were strong laws to prevent people from discriminating against children. And Mark had warned him that he had kids and they'd be out from time to time. He had a right to live there with his children, even now that they were in residence full-time. Coop had no other option than to get used to it, and complain if they did something they shouldn't. And other than Jason using his front steps as a skateboard ramp on the first day he was there, so far at least there had been no other problems.

It was only on the first weekend Alex spent at the house with him, that they both woke up at noon, and heard what sounded like a convention in full progress at his pool. It sounded like there were five hundred people shouting to each other. There was loud rap music coming from somewhere, and Alex couldn't help smiling as she lay in bed listening to the lyrics. They were absolutely filthy, but very funny, and totally irreverent about grown-ups and what kids thought of them. It was quite a message to Coop.

“Oh my God, what is that?” Coop asked with horror as he raised his head from his pillow, looking stunned.

“It sounds like a party of some kind,” Alex said with a stretch and a yawn, as she cuddled up beside him. She had traded four shifts just to be there, and things were going well between them. Coop was adjusting well to her busy life, and he hadn't enjoyed any woman as much in years. And in spite of their considerable age difference, she was very comfortable with him. Even after giving it some careful thought, his age wasn't an issue for her. He seemed younger, and far more interesting, than most men her age.

“It must be the aliens again. I think another UFO just landed.” He had had sightings of teenagers in the past three weeks, but Mark seemed to be keeping them in good control, until that morning. Coop was not yet aware that Paloma was doing occasional babysitting for them. “They must be deaf. You could hear that music in Chicago for chrissake.” He got out of bed and looked out the window. “Oh my God, Alex, there are thousands of them.” She got out of bed to look with him, and there were twenty or thirty teenagers, laughing and shouting and throwing things, at the pool.

“Looks like a party,” Alex confirmed, “must be someone's birthday.” She thought it was nice seeing healthy, happy kids having fun. After all the agony and tragedy she saw in her daily life, it looked blissfully normal. But standing next to her, Coop looked horrified.

“Aliens don't have birthdays, Alex. They hatch at the most inconvenient time, and then they come to Earth to break everything in sight. They were sent here to destroy us and Planet Earth.”

“Do you want me to go out and tell them to turn down the music?” she asked helpfully with a broad grin. She could see that it really upset him. He loved his peaceful, orderly life, and he loved having everything beautiful and elegant around him. The songs they were listening to qualified as neither, and she felt sorry for him.

“That would be lovely,” he said gratefully, as she stepped into shorts and a T-shirt and slipped her feet into sandals. It was a beautiful spring day, and she promised to make breakfast as soon as she got back. He thanked her, and went to take a shower and shave before breakfast. He always looked impeccable, and he even looked handsome and in relatively good order when he woke up. Unlike Alex, who always woke up feeling as though she'd been dragged behind a horse on a rope all night. Her hair was all over the place, and with the hours she worked, she was always exhausted. But she had youth on her side, and she looked like a kid herself as she went out to the pool, to deliver his message to Mark.

When she got to the pool, she saw that Mark was there, and Jessica was at the hub of a flock of girls in bikinis and one-piece bathing suits, giggling and screaming. The boys were being “cool” and ignoring them, and Mark was trying to organize a game of Marco Polo from the pool.

“Hi, how've you been? I haven't seen you in a while,” he said pleasantly when he saw her. He'd been beginning to wonder if Coop had stopped seeing her. But Mark hadn't seen any other women there either. Things had been relatively quiet for weeks.

“I've been working. What's the occasion? Someone's birthday?”

“Jessie just wanted to get together with her old friends and celebrate being back here.” She was ecstatic to be living with her father, and for the moment she was refusing to speak to her mother, much to Mark's dismay. But so far at least, he hadn't been able to sway her. He kept telling Janet to give her time, but Jessica seemed to be relentlessly unforgiving. At least Jason was willing to talk to her, but he made no bones about the fact that he was thrilled to be living with his father.

“I hate to bug you about it, they look like they're having so much fun,” Alex said apologetically, “but Coop is having a little problem with the noise. Do you think they could turn the sound system down a little?” Mark looked startled, and then winced, realizing how bad it had gotten. He was so used to the chaos of having kids around, he hadn't noticed. And he realized he probably should have warned Coop of the gathering, but he was afraid now to even mention the kids to him.

“I'm sorry. Someone must have turned the volume up while I wasn't looking. You know how kids are.” She did, and she was happy to see that they were good, clean, wholesome kids. There wasn't a tattoo or a Mohawk in sight. Just a lot of earrings and the occasional nose pierce. Nothing scary. And none of them looked like delinquents or druggies, contrary to what Coop would have told her if he'd seen them. They were just ordinary “aliens,” in Alex's opinion.

Mark got out of the pool and went to turn the sound down on the stereo, and Alex stood smiling as she watched the kids for a minute. She saw that Jessica was a pretty girl, with long, straight blonde hair and a lovely figure, and she was giggling uncontrollably in the midst of her girlfriends, as several young boys eyed her with lust. She seemed to be oblivious to them. And then, Alex saw Jason approach with Jimmy. He was wearing a catcher's mitt and holding a baseball, and he was wearing a big grin as they talked earnestly about something. Jimmy had just taught him how to put a spin on the ball with unfailing precision. It was an art Jason had never previously mastered, but Jimmy made it easy for him.

“Hi,” Alex said pleasantly, as they stopped where she was standing. Jimmy looked awkward for a minute, and then introduced her to Jason. There was always something guarded about Jimmy's eyes, as though even looking at people now was painful. Alex could see the toll his loss had taken on him. He looked like someone who had suffered a trauma. He had that familiar shell-shocked look she saw in the eyes of parents who had just lost their babies. But when he was talking to Jason, he seemed more at ease than when he was in the midst of adults. “How've you been?” she asked casually. “Been to any good fires recently?” The last time she'd seen him was when Mark had nearly caused a forest fire with the barbecue, and they'd paged her to come back on duty. “That was quite an experience.” They both smiled at the memory. And she still had an unforgettable vision of Coop signing autographs for the firemen while the bushes were burning. It made her laugh to think of it.

“I got a very good dinner out of it,” Jimmy said with a shy smile. “I think we ate yours after you left. Too bad you had to go back to work. But if you hadn't, we wouldn't have gotten dinner,” he said sensibly, and then grinned at his own memory of the evening. “It was quite an evening. I haven't been that hungover since I was in college. I couldn't even go in to work until eleven o'clock the next morning. He serves some pretty exotic stuff, and a lot of it.”

“Sounds like I missed a good time,” she smiled at him, and then turned her attention to Jason and asked him what position he played. He said he was a shortstop.

“He throws a good ball,” Jimmy praised him, “and he's a hell of a hitter. We lost three balls this morning, over the fence. Definite home runs, right out of the park.”

“I'm impressed. I can't hit a ball to save my life,” she confessed.

“Neither could my wife,” he said, without thinking. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. And she could see in his eyes that they had hurt him. “Most women can't hit a ball, or throw one. They have other virtues,” he said, trying to bring the comment back to the world at large and get it away from Maggie.

“I'm not sure I have those virtues either,” Alex said easily, sensing that it had been an uncomfortable moment for him. “I can't cook to save my life. But I make a mean peanut butter sandwich, and I order a great pizza.”

“That'll do it. I'm a much better cook than my wife was.” Damn. He had done it again. She could see him retreat behind a wall after he made the comment, and he lapsed into a distracted silence as she chatted with Jason, and then the boy wandered off to see his sister and her friends.

“They're nice kids,” Alex said, hoping to put him at ease again. She could see what a hard time he was having, and she wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she didn't want to upset him more than he already was.

“Mark is out of his mind with joy to have them out here. He really missed them,” Jimmy said, trying to drag himself back from the precipice. He was constantly falling into an abyss of grief. Everything he said or did reminded him of Maggie. “How's our landlord handling it?”

“He's in deep therapy, and on mood-altering medication,” she said solemnly, and Jimmy burst into laughter. It was a wonderful sound, and in sharp contrast to what she suspected he was feeling most of the time.

“That bad, huh?”

“Actually, worse. Last week, he almost coded.” It was hospital-ese for a code blue, when all of a patient's systems failed, their heart stopped, and they stopped breathing. But Jimmy seemed to understand. “I think he might make it, but I had to brush up on my CPR training. We've got him on a respirator now, speaking of which, I'd better get back. I came out here to ask them to turn down the music.”

“What's it going to be?” Jimmy asked casually.

“It's been rap up to now, with some pretty juicy lyrics.” She grinned at him.

“No, breakfast, I mean. Peanut butter, or pizza?”

“Hmmm…now that's an interesting question. I hadn't thought about it. Personally, I'd opt for pizza, used, leftover. I live on it. With doughnuts for dessert, preferably stale. I think Coop has more mundane taste, maybe eggs and bacon.”

“Can you handle it?” Jimmy asked solicitously. He liked her, he got a sense of enormous warmth and compassion from her. He wasn't sure what she did, but he remembered it was something with babies. And he suspected she was good at it. She was obviously smart, and seemed like a very caring person. He hadn't figured out yet what she was doing with Cooper Winslow. It seemed like an odd match to him, but there was no accounting for people's choices of partners and playmates. They never seemed to follow the path you'd expect them to. Coop was old enough to be her father and then some. She didn't look like the kind of woman to be lured by celebrity or glamour. It made him wonder if there was more to Coop than he suspected, or maybe, bad news, less to Alex. In spite of the evening Jimmy had spent with him, he didn't think much of Cooper. Charming and handsome without a doubt, but not a lot of substance or depth.

“Can I call 911 to deliver breakfast?” Alex asked, continuing the banter. He was a sweet guy, and she felt sorry for him.

“Sure, just have Coop sign for it,” he said unkindly, and then was instantly apologetic. He had no reason to be nasty about the guy, and he knew it. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“It's okay, he has a great sense of humor, even about himself. It's one of the things I like about him.”

It made him want to ask her what else there was to like, other than his looks, but he didn't.

“Well, I'd better get back. I guess we won't be using the pool today. Coop definitely couldn't handle this scene. We'd have to restrain him.” They both laughed, and she waved at Mark and went back to the main wing, where she found Cooper looking petulant, and struggling with breakfast. He had burned muffins to a crisp, and had broken the yolks on all four of the eggs he was frying. The bacon was burned beyond recognition, and he had spilled orange juice all over the table.

“You can cook!” she said with amazement, and a broad smile as she took stock of the chaos. She couldn't have done much better. She was far more skilled in the ICU than in the kitchen. “I'm impressed.”

“Well, I'm not. Where the hell were you? I thought the aliens had taken you hostage.”

“They're nice kids, Coop. I don't think you need to worry. I was just chatting with Mark and Jimmy, and Mark's son, Jason. All the kids out at the pool look polite and wholesome and well-behaved.” He turned to stare at her then, with a spatula in his hand, as the eggs burned.

“Oh my God… it's the pod people… they've exchanged you…you're one of them…who are you really?” He had the wide-eyed look of horror you only saw in science fiction movies and she laughed at him.

“I'm still me, and they're fine. I just thought I'd tell you so you don't worry.”

“You were gone so long, I figured you'd run off with them, so I made my own breakfast… our breakfast,” he corrected, and then looked around him with dismay. “Do you want to go out to eat? I'm not sure any of this is edible.” He looked a little discouraged.

“I guess I should have ordered a pizza.”

“For breakfast?” He looked appalled, and rose to his full height with a look of indignation. “Alex, your eating habits are dreadful. Don't they teach you anything about nutrition in med school? Pizza is not an appropriate breakfast, even if you are a physician.”

“Sorry,” she said humbly, and put two more muffins in the toaster, and then cleaned up the spilled orange juice and poured two more glasses.

“This is women's work,” he said with a look of chauvinistic relief. “I think I'll leave you to it. Just give me orange juice and coffee.” But five minutes later, she produced scrambled eggs, bacon, muffins, juice, and coffee, and brought it to him on a tray on the terrace. She had used his best plates, Baccarat crystal for the orange juice, and folded paper towels in lieu of napkins.

“The delivery is excellent You need a little work on table service Linen is always a nice touch when you're using good china,” he teased her, but he smiled at her as he set down the newspaper.

“Just be grateful I didn't use toilet paper. We do that at the hospital when we run out of napkins. It works fine, so do paper plates and Styrofoam cups. I'll bring some for next time.”

“I'm enormously relieved to hear it,” he said grandly. She had a way of refusing to be pretentious no matter where she'd grown up, or what her last name was. When they finished the excellent eggs she had prepared for them, it led to a question he'd been meaning to ask her. “How do you suppose your family would feel about me, Alex? About us, I mean.” He looked worried, and it touched her. She had a growing feeling that he was serious about her, and she didn't really mind. So far at least, she liked everything about him, but it was early days yet. They had been going out for barely more than a month, and a lot of things could change, problems could come up, as they got to know each other better.

“What difference does it make? They don't run my life, Coop. I do. I decide who I want to spend time with.”

“And they have no opinions on the subject? That seems unlikely.” From everything he'd read about her father, Arthur Madison had opinions about everything on the planet, and surely about his daughter. And from what Coop knew, most of what Arthur Madison thought and did was not overly warm and cozy. He would be the perfect candidate to object to her being involved with Cooper Winslow.

“My family and I don't get along,” Alex said quietly. “I keep them at a very healthy distance. That's one of the reasons why I'm out here.” Her parents had criticized her all her life, and her father had never had a kind word for her. Her only sister had run off with her fiancé the night before their wedding. There was very little she liked about any of them, if anything. And as far as Alex was concerned, her mother had ice water in her veins, and had given up on life years before. She let her husband do and say anything he wanted, even to his children. Alex had always felt she had grown up in an entirely loveless household, where everyone was out for themselves, no matter who it hurt in the process. And no amount of money and history changed that. “They are actually the aliens you talk about. They came here from another galaxy, to stamp out life on Planet Earth, as they see it. They have a tremendous advantage in doing so, they have no hearts, medium-sized brains which process only the obvious, and they have an embarrassing amount of money, which they use almost exclusively to their own advantage. Their plot to take over the world has gone relatively well. My father seems to own most of it, and he doesn't give a damn about a single human being other than himself. To be perfectly blunt with you, Coop, I don't like them. And they don't like me much either. I won't play the game with them, and I don't buy their bullshit, never have, never will. So whatever they think about us, if they eventually hear about it, and I assume they will, I really could care less what they think about it.”

“Well, that certainly spells things out, doesn't it?” He was a little taken aback by the vehemence of her speech, and it was easy to see how much they'd hurt her, particularly her father. Coop had always heard he was both ruthless and heartless. “I've always read that your father is very philanthropic.”

“He has a great PR man. My father only gives to causes that will do him some good, or lend him prestige. He gave a hundred million dollars to Harvard. Who cares about Harvard when there are children starving all over the world, and people dying of diseases that could be cured, if someone put up the money to do it? He doesn't have a real philanthropic bone in his body.” But she did. She gave away ninety percent of her income from her trust fund every year, and lived on as little as she was able. She allowed herself small luxuries, like the studio apartment on Wilshire Boulevard, but very seldom. She felt she had a responsibility to the world because of who she was, not in spite of it, which was why she had spent a year working in Kenya. It was also where she had realized that her sister had done her a huge favor by stealing her fiancé, although she hated her for the betrayal it had been. But she and Carter would have killed each other. It had taken her years to realize that he was just like her father, and her sister was just like her mother. All her sister wanted was the money and the name and the security and the prestige of being married to someone important. She didn't know who he was, or care. And all Carter wanted was to be the most important man on the planet. Her father was all about himself, and so was Carter. And they weren't close enough to discuss it anymore, but Alex had suspected for years that her sister was unhappy. Alex was sorry for her, she was an empty, lonely, vapid, useless human being.

“Are you telling me that if it comes out in the tabloids, or elsewhere, that we're involved, your father won't care about it?” he asked incredulously. That came as a surprise to Coop.

“No, I'm not. I'm telling you he'll probably care a great deal. But I don't care what he thinks about it. I'm a grown woman.”

“That was my point though,” he said, looking even more worried. “He probably wouldn't like you being involved with a movie star, let alone someone of my vintage.” Or reputation. He had been a notorious playboy for years after all. Alex was sure that even her father knew that.

“Possibly,” she said, offering only minimal reassurance. “He's three years younger than you are.” That piece of information smarted, and didn't seem like good news to Coop, nor had anything she'd said, except for the fact that she seemed indifferent to her father's opinions. But if he got angry enough, her father might cause her or Coop some real problems. He wasn't sure how, but people as powerful as Arthur Madison usually found ways to do it.

“Could he cut off your money?” Coop asked, sounding nervous.

“No,” she smiled calmly, as though it was decidedly none of Coop's business. But she suspected he didn't want to be responsible for her family causing her discomfort. It was sweet of him to worry about it. “Most of what I have came from my grandfather. The rest is already set up in an irrevocable trust by my father. And even if they could cut me off, I wouldn't give a damn. I earn my own living. I'm a doctor.” And the most independent woman he'd ever met. She wanted nothing from anyone, and surely not from him. She didn't need Coop, she just loved him. She wasn't even emotionally dependent on him, she enjoyed his company, and she was able to walk at any time, if need be. It was an enviable position to be in. Young, smart, free, rich, beautiful, and independent. The perfect woman. Except that Coop would have liked it if she were a little more dependent on him. He had no guarantees with Alex, and no hook in her. She was there by choice, until further notice. “Does that answer all your questions?” she asked Coop, as she leaned over to kiss him, with her long dark hair falling over her shoulders. She looked like one of the teenagers at the pool, in her bare feet, shorts, and T-shirt.

“Enough so, for the time being. I just don't want to cause problems for you with your family,” he said, sounding kind and responsible, “that would be a high price to pay for a romance.”

“I've already paid that price, Coop,” she said, looking pensive.

“So I gather.” It sounded like she had gotten the hell out of Dodge years before, probably when her sister ran off with her fiancé.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly. They read the paper, lay in the sun on the terrace, and made love in the middle of the afternoon. The teenagers calmed down eventually, and they hardly heard them. And after they left the pool, she and Coop went out for a swim before dinner. Everything at the pool had been cleaned up and put back in place, and appeared to be in good order. Mark had done a good job policing them, and made them tidy up everything before the party was over.

And that night, she and Coop went to a movie. Heads turned as he paid for tickets at the box office, and two people asked him for autographs while he bought popcorn. She was getting used to being noticed by people wherever they went, and amused when they asked her to step aside while they snapped his picture, usually while one or more of their group posed with him.

“Are you famous?” they would ask her bluntly.

“No, I'm not,” she smiled humbly at them.

“Could you move over please.” She obliged, as she laughed and made faces at him from behind the camera. But it didn't bother her, she thought it was funny, and loved to tease him about it.

They went to a deli for a sandwich afterwards, and got home early. She had to get up at six, and be at the hospital by seven. The weekend had worked out well, and she was happier than ever with him. She was careful not to wake him when she got up. He didn't even hear her leave, and he smiled when he saw her note next to his razor.

“Dearest Coop, Thanks for a great weekend… peaceful and relaxing… If you'd like an autographed picture, call my agent… talk to you later. Love you, Alex.”

The funny thing was he loved her too. He hadn't expected to, he had thought she would just be a diversion, because she was different from the other women he normally dated. But he was stunned to realize how much he liked her. She was so real, and so decent, and so loving. He had no idea what to do about it, if anything. Ordinarily, he would have just enjoyed it for a few weeks or months, and moved on to the next one. But because of what she represented, and what she had, he found himself thinking about the future. Abe's words hadn't been entirely lost on him. And if he wanted a rich wife, which he wasn't even sure he did, Alex was perfect. Everything about her made sense for him. And being married to Alex wouldn't be embarrassing, it had a lot to recommend it. At times, he almost wished she wasn't who she was, because he couldn't pretend to himself that she wasn't one of the richest young women in the country. And he wasn't sure what he would have felt about her, other than just enjoying her for a short time, if she wasn't. It complicated things, and colored them. More than she was, he was suspicious of his own motives. And yet, in spite of all that, he realized that he loved her, whatever that meant, or would mean in the future.

“Why don't you just relax and enjoy it?” he asked his own reflection in the mirror as he picked up his razor.

The uncomfortable thing about her was that she made him question himself, and challenge his own conscience. Did he love her? Or was she just a very rich girl who could solve all his problems forever if he married her? If her father even let her. He didn't completely buy her theory that she didn't give a damn what her father said, and his opinion meant nothing to her. She was after all a Madison, which implied a certain responsibility as to who she married, whose children she had, and what she did with her money.

And that was another thing… children… he still hated the thought of having children, even rich ones. He thought they were a pain in the neck and he had no desire to have any. Ever. But she was far too young to give up the idea of having children. They hadn't talked about it seriously, but it was clear even to him that she expected to have some one day. It was all very complicated, and convoluted, in his mind, if not Alex's. And worst of all, he didn't want to hurt her. He had never worried about that before, with any of the women he dated. Alex brought the best out in him, and he wasn't at all sure he liked it. Being responsible and respectable was an enormous burden.

The phone rang while he was shaving, and he didn't answer it. He knew Paloma was there somewhere, but wherever she was, she didn't pick it up, and it went on ringing. He thought it might be Alex. She was working for the next several days to make up for the weekend. He ran to answer the phone with shaving cream still on his face, and was irritated the instant he heard her. It was Charlene, and she sounded breathless.

“I called you last week, and you didn't return my call,” she began by sounding angry, and went straight to accusation.

“I didn't get the message,” he said honestly. “Did you leave me a voice mail?” he asked, wiping off the rest of the foam on a towel.

“I talked to Paloma,” she said, sounding righteous. Just hearing her irritated him. His brief fling with her seemed light-years from where he was at the moment, with Alex. He was having a respectable romance with an honorable woman, not a sexual circus with a girl he scarcely knew. The two women, and his feelings for them, were worlds apart, and entirely different.

“That explains it,” Coop said pleasantly. He wanted to get her off the phone as soon as possible. He never wanted to see her again, and didn't plan to. He was very pleased the tabloids had never gotten wind of her, but they had hardly ever gone out. He had spent most of his time with her in his bedroom. “She never gives me messages except when she feels like it, and that's not often.”

“I have to see you.”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said bluntly. “And I'm leaving town this afternoon.” That was a lie, but it usually discouraged women when he said it. “I don't think we have anything more to say to each other, Charlene. It was fun, but that's all it was, for both of us.” He had only seen her for a few weeks, between Pamela and Alex. It was hardly grounds for histrionics and drama.

“I'm pregnant.” She had believed him when he said he was going out of town, and figured she'd better tell him while she had the chance to. There was a long, thoughtful silence on Coop's end. He'd been there before, and it had always been relatively easy to take care of. A few tears, a little emotional support, and money to pay for the abortion. And it was over. He assumed this would be no different.

“I'm sorry to hear that. I don't mean to be rude, but are you sure it's mine?” Women always hated it when he asked that, but some weren't sure, in which case, he was usually less sympathetic. And in Charlene's case, it seemed a fair question. He knew she had had quite an active romantic career before him, possibly during, and surely after. Sex was the mainstay of Charlene's life, and her primary means of communication. The way some women used food, or shopping. She was a very active young woman.

She was outraged. Incensed virtue itself when she answered. “Of course I'm sure it's yours. Would I call you if it weren't?”

“That's an interesting question. But in that case, I'm very sorry. Do you have a good doctor?” Her announcement had instantly caused him to feel distant, and sound guarded. He was feeling threatened.

“No. And I don't have any money.”

“I'll have my accountant send you a check to cover everything.” These days it wasn't a big deal. In the old days, it had meant driving across the Mexican border, or flying to Europe. Now, it was as routine as having your teeth cleaned, as far as Coop was concerned at least. And it was neither dangerous nor expensive. “I'll send you the names of some doctors.” It was a ripple on the ocean of his life, but hardly a tidal wave. Worse things could have happened. Like a public scandal, which he did not want at the moment, because of Alex.

“I'm having the baby,” she said, and to Coop's ears, sounded dogged and stubborn. She was dangerous and menacing from his perspective. All he wanted was to protect himself, and Alex, and all Charlene was in his mind was a threat. He had never loved her. He felt utterly threatened not only by what she said, but the tone of her voice. And more than a human dilemma, her plight seemed more like a threat for blackmail. It was hard for him to feel anything toward her. And every protective feeling he had was not for her, but for Alex. He didn't want her upset by this nightmare.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Charlene,” he said, trying to maintain distance between them. He couldn't help thinking too that as brief as their affair had been, she could have taken care of it without even telling him. Instead, she wanted to pull him into the drama with her. But having the baby of a celebrity appealed to some women, and so did pressing them for money. She seemed to have a sense of entitlement that terrified him, and an agenda he had no desire to share with her. “We don't know each other that well. And you're too young and attractive to get tied down with a baby. They're a lot of trouble.” It was a tack that made sense and had worked for him in the past, but Charlene seemed to have no intention of backing off. In truth why would she want to have a baby with a relative stranger? Except in this case, the stranger was Cooper Winslow.

“I've had six abortions. I can't have another one, Coop. And besides, I want our baby.” Our baby, therein lay the key. She was trying to pull him into the soup with her. He couldn't help wondering if she was even pregnant, or if this was a ploy for money. “I want to see you.”

“That's also not a good idea,” and it was the last thing he wanted. All he needed was a hysterical meeting with her. What she really wanted was to get him back, and to make him feel obligated to her, but he didn't. He didn't for a moment believe that she was sincere about any of this, and he wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Alex. The affair with Charlene had lasted a mere three weeks. The one with Alex might last a lifetime. “I can't tell you what to do, but I strongly feel you should have the abortion.” He wasn't foolish enough to beg her. He would have preferred to strangle her, and the baby, if there was one. He was not yet even convinced she was pregnant, nor if she was, that it was his baby.

“I'm not having an abortion!” she said plaintively, and then started crying. She told him how much she loved him, and that she had thought they would be together forever, that she thought he loved her too, and what was she going to do now with a fatherless baby?

“Precisely,” he said coolly. He was determined not to let her know he was worried. “No baby deserves a father who won't recognize him. I'm not going to marry you. I'm not even going to see you or the baby. I don't want to be a father. And I never gave you the impression that I loved you, Charlene. We were two adults who had sex together for a few weeks, and nothing more. Let's not get confused here.”

“Well, that's how babies are made,” she said, and suddenly giggled. He felt like he was in a very bad movie, and he didn't like it. He liked her even less for causing him this much discomfort. “It's your baby too, Coop,” she said, almost cooing.

“It's not my baby. It's not anyone's baby at this point. It's a nothing, it's a cell the size of the head of a pin, and it means nothing. You won't even miss it.” He knew that wasn't entirely true, because hormones would cause her to believe that she loved it. But he was refusing to address that.

“I'm Catholic.” He winced as she said it.

“So am I, Charlene. But if that made any difference to either of us, we wouldn't have been sleeping with each other out of wedlock. I don't think you have a choice here. You can either be sensible, or very, very foolish. And if you choose to be foolish, I'm not going to be a party to it. If you have this baby, you do so without my support or my blessing.” He wanted her to know that from the beginning, and he intended to be unwavering about it. He thought it was better that she should know it, and not harbor any illusions about him.

“You have to support it,” she said practically. “The law says so.” She was very clever. “And I can't work while I'm pregnant. I can't model or act with a big, fat stomach. You have to help me.” He could hardly help himself at the moment, and he had no desire whatsoever to support her. “I think we should get together and talk about it.” She sounded suddenly almost cheerful. He suspected that she thought she could eventually suck him into it, and maybe even into marrying her, if she had the baby. But all it did was make him hate her. In his mind, she was threatening not only his finances, but his relationship with Alex, which meant a great deal to him.

“I'm not going to see you,” he said in a tone of icy determination. He was not going to let her do this to him.

“I think you should, Coop,” she said, with a menacing tone in her voice. “What will people think if they find out you won't take care of me or our baby?” She made it sound like he had walked out on seven children and a ten-year marriage. She was a girl he had slept with for a few weeks, and she had turned into a blackmailer and a nightmare.

“What will people think if they find out you're blackmailing me?” he asked with an edge to his voice he could no longer suppress when he answered.

“This isn't blackmail, it's fatherhood,” she said blithely. “This is what people do, Coop. They get married and have babies. Or sometimes, they have babies and get married.” She made it sound inevitable and he wanted to slap her. No one had ever done this to him before, not as cold-bloodedly or as blatantly. Every woman he'd ever gotten pregnant had been reasonable about it. Charlene wasn't, nor was she prepared to be. This was a golden opportunity for her.

“I'm not going to marry you, Charlene, whether you have the baby or not. Let's get that very clear right now. I don't give a damn what you do. I'll pay for an abortion, but that's all I'm going to do. And if you expect me to support you, you'll have to sue me.” But he had no doubt now that she would. As publicly as possible, most likely.

“I'd hate to do that, Coop,” she said regretfully. “It would be such bad publicity for both of us. It could really hurt our careers.” He didn't want to anger her further by telling her she didn't have one, and the truth was, at the moment, he didn't either. No one was hiring him anyway, except for cameos, and the occasional commercial. But he still didn't want to be pulled into a scandal with her. He had never been involved in anything like that. He might have been known as frivolous, or a playboy, but no one had ever had anything truly scandalous to say about him. And if she had her way, Charlene was going to change that. And because of his current affair with Alex, her timing was appalling. Arthur Madison was really going to love that one. “Can't I just see you for lunch before you leave?” She sounded pitiful and innocent. She went from shark to minnow and back again in a matter of seconds. And for an instant he almost felt sorry for her, and then went back to feeling threatened.

“No, you can't. I'll send you a check this morning. And what you do about it is up to you, but rest assured I'm not going to warm up to this, or change my mind. I will not be involved in this insanity, if you have my baby.”

“See?” she sounded satisfied. “You're already thinking about it as your baby too. It's our baby, Coop. And it's going to be a beautiful baby.” She was waxing poetic, and he wanted to throw up as he listened.

“You're insane. Goodbye, Charlene.”

“Bye, Daddy,” she whispered and hung up, as he sat staring at the phone in horror. This truly was a nightmare.

He wondered what she was going to do about it, if she would realize he wasn't willing to play ball with her, and have the abortion, or if she would insist on having the baby. If she did, it was likely to cause one hell of an ugly scandal, especially with Alex. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have said anything to her, but there was so much at stake, that he decided, given the possibilities with Charlene, he was better off making a clean breast of it with Alex. Charlene was a loose cannon, and there was no telling what she would do. He knew there were two things he had to do immediately, no matter how much he disliked them.

First he had to send Charlene a check to cover the cost of an abortion. And then he had to find Alex and tell her. He walked naked through his bedroom, and grabbed his checkbook. He jotted off a check in an amount he thought was suitable. And then he called Alex at the hospital and left her a message to call him when she had a free moment. He was not looking forward to telling her, but it seemed the wisest thing to do under the circumstances. He just hoped she wouldn't end the affair with him when he told her.

Chapter 13

When Alex got Coop's message, she called him back half an hour later. She'd been busy doing paperwork on a new intake, and after that they had another new admission, a preemie with a heart valve problem. It was presumably reparable, but the baby needed close supervision. And she sounded busy and distracted when she called him.

“Hi, what's doing?”

“Busy morning?” He was nervous, but he didn't want her to know it. Suddenly, he realized how much she meant to him, and not just because of her fortune. He genuinely didn't want to hurt her, or lose her.

“Not too busy. Things are moving, but they're not insane yet.” She seemed to be in full control of what she was doing, but she was always happy to hear from him, and to chat with him, when she had a minute. It had been nice of him to call her.

“Have you got time for a quick lunch?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“I'm sorry, Coop. I can't get out of here. I'm the senior resident in charge here. I'm stuck for the duration.” She was on duty until the following morning. “I can't leave the building.”

“You don't have to. Why don't I come by for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, that would be fine, if you don't mind my being stuck here. Is something wrong?” He sounded all right, but he had never offered to come by the hospital before. She wondered if he missed her.

“No, I just wanted to see you.” The way he said it almost made her nervous. He had said he'd come by at noon, and as soon as she hung up, an emergency distracted her. She was still tying up loose ends and signing forms when the technician at the front desk told her there was someone to see her.

“Is that who I think it is?” the woman asked when she called Alex in her office. Her voice was filled with wonder, and Alex laughed as she answered.

“I guess so.”

“Damn, he's pretty,” she said admiringly, just out of his earshot, and Alex smiled as she put down her papers.

“Yes, he is. Tell him I'll be right there.” It was a good time to take a break, and she hurried out in her scrubs with her white coat over it. She was wearing socks and clogs, with her stethoscope at a crazy angle around her neck, and a pair of rubber gloves hanging out of her pocket. She was wearing her hair pulled back in a braid, and as usual, she never bothered to wear makeup when she was working. She looked like a teenager in costume as she hurried out to see him.

“Hi, Coop,” she said breezily, with a big smile, as people hanging around the ICU tried to stare at him discreetly. She was used to it by now, and he looked as impeccable as ever, in a tweed sport jacket and a beige turtleneck, with perfectly pressed khaki slacks and brown suede loafers. He looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine and she felt like she'd been dragged through a bush backwards.

She told the tech at the front desk that she was going to the cafeteria to grab something to eat, and to page her if they needed her. “If I'm lucky, they might even give me ten uninterrupted minutes.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and he put an arm around her as they got into the elevator to go to the basement. Alex smiled as the doors closed and she saw everyone staring at them. He was quite a vision. “You just increased my importance around here by about four thousand percent. You look terrific.” He pulled her closer to him affectionately as she said it.

“So do you. You look very official with all that stuff hanging off you.” She was wearing her pager, her stethoscope, and there was a clamp she had forgotten clipped to her pocket. The tools of her trade made her look more like a grown-up. Or if it was a Halloween costume, it was a very good one. It impressed him to see her there, and the easy way she had breezed past the desk and instructed one of the nurses before she addressed him. She was really something. Which made him even more nervous as he contemplated what he was about to tell her. He had no way of knowing what her reaction would be. But he knew he had to tell her before someone else did. Thanks to Charlene, things could get dicey.

They both selected sandwiches and put them on a tray, and Alex poured them each a cup of coffee. “This stuff is pretty dangerous,” she warned him, pointing to the coffee. “Legend has it there's rat poison in it, and I believe them. I'll take you over to the ER after lunch, if you think you need it.”

“Thank God you're a doctor,” he said, as he paid for their lunch, and followed her to a small corner table. Mercifully, there was no one else around them, and no one seemed to have recognized him in the cafeteria so far. He wanted a few minutes of peace with her. And she was already eating her sandwich, before he had unwrapped his. He took a few minutes to assemble his composure, and she saw that his hands were shaking when he poured sugar in his coffee.

“What's up, Coop?” She was calm and quiet and sympathetic, and her eyes were gentle.

“Nothing… no… that's not true… something came up this morning.” She watched his eyes as she waited for him to explain it. She could see now that he was worried. He hadn't touched either his sandwich or his coffee.

“Something bad?”

“Something annoying. I wanted to talk to you about it.” She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was. His eyes told her nothing. He took a breath, and launched into what he feared would rapidly become troubled waters. “I've done a few foolish things in my life, Alex. Not many, but some. And I've had a very good time most of the time. I haven't hurt anyone. I generally play on a level playing field, with people who understand the ground rules.” As he said it, she began to panic. She felt sure he was about to tell her it was over between them. This sounded like the introduction. She had been there before, but not in a very long time. She hadn't allowed herself to care about anyone since then. Until Cooper. She had been falling for him since she met him. And now this sounded like a farewell speech. She sat back in her chair and watched him. If nothing else, she was going to take her lumps with dignity and courage. And he could see that she was backing off as he watched her. It was self-protection. But he continued. He had to. “I've never taken advantage of anyone. I don't mislead women. Most of the people I've gotten involved with did so with their eyes open. I've made a few mistakes, but generally, I have a pretty clear slate. No casualties, no victims. And when it's over, it's been goodbye and thank you, on both sides. As far as I know, no one hates me. Most of the people I've been involved with like me, and I like them. And the mistakes have been short-lived and quickly corrected.”

“And now? Is this a mistake, Coop?” She wondered if he was correcting it now, and she had to fight back tears as she listened, but he looked shocked when she asked the question.

“Us? Of course not! Is that what you think I'm saying? Oh, baby… this isn't about us. This is about something stupid I did before I met you.” She looked immensely relieved as he held her hands and continued. “I'll try to get through this quickly,” particularly if there was a chance they might get interrupted. That would be awful. He had to tell her. “I went out with a young woman shortly before we met. I probably shouldn't have. She's a simple girl, an aspiring actress, and her only roles so far have been in porn videos and trade shows. She doesn't have a lot going for her, but I thought she was a sweet girl, and we were both playing. She knew the ground rules. She's not an innocent. She's been around the block more than a few times. I never misled her. I never pretended to care about her. It was a sexual interlude for both of us, and nothing more, and it ended very quickly. Even I can't stay involved for long with a woman I can't talk to. It seemed like a very simple thing, and completely harmless.”

“And?” Alex couldn't stand the suspense. Clearly, he wasn't telling her he was in love with the girl, but what was he saying?

“She called this morning. She's pregnant.”

“Shit,” Alex said simply, but with a feeling of immense relief. “At least it's not terminal. She can fix that.” She was enormously relieved that he wasn't telling her he was in love with the woman, and she smiled reassuringly at Coop, who felt like a thousand-pound weight had been taken off his shoulders. She hadn't stood up and walked out, or told him she never wanted to see him again, but she also didn't know the whole story.

“That's the other half of the problem. She wants to have the baby.”

“Now that is a nasty little problem. But I can see why it would appeal to her. Celebrity baby. Is she blackmailing you, Coop?” Alex was practical, intelligent, and perceptive, which made it easier to talk to her than he'd expected.

“More or less. She wants money. She says in her line of work, she can't work while she's pregnant. I guess they don't do porn videos with pregnant women,” he said grimly, and Alex squeezed his hands to give him comfort. “She wants me to support her and the baby. I told her I don't want a baby, hers or anyone else's … except yours possibly,” he amended with a rueful smile. He felt utterly foolish to be confessing all this to her, but he had wanted to make a clean breast of it to Alex. “I didn't tell her about you, or she'd really be up in arms. She already was. She sounds crazy. One minute she's crying, the next she's threatening, and then she's talking in saccharine tones about ‘our baby’ Nauseating, and somewhat terrifying. I have no idea what she's going to do, or if she'll actually have the baby. Or call the tabloids. She's a loose cannon, and she's fully loaded, if you'll pardon the pun. I sent her a check to pay for an abortion, but that's all I'm willing to do for the moment, and I said so. The entire affair lasted three weeks. It shouldn't have happened at all. I should have known better at my age. But I was bored, and she was amusing. But what's happening now is definitely not amusing,” he said, looking remorseful. “I'm so sorry, Alex, to bring this mess into our lives. But I wanted to tell you. I thought you had a right to know, particularly if she goes to the tabloids. She could do that. They'd love it.”

“So would she probably,” Alex said, sounding sympathetic. “Are you sure she's pregnant? She might just be trying to see what she can get out of you. She doesn't sound like a very nice person.”

“She isn't. I don't know if she's really pregnant or not, or even if it's mine. I wore protection, but to give you the ugly details, it broke on one occasion. I guess from her perspective, she got lucky.” At least he knew it hadn't been a setup, just the fates conspiring against him.

“You can have DNA tests eventually, particularly if she's willing to do amnio. They can test her then. But that's a way down the road. How pregnant is she?”

“I think she said two months or something.”

He and Alex had been together for six weeks, so he was being truthful when he said he'd been involved with her right before Alex. Right before. Like two weeks before, or less. But Alex reminded herself that what he had done before her was none of her business.

“What are you going to do, Coop?” Alex asked, still holding his hands in hers. She loved the fact that he'd been honest with her, and if anything, she felt closer to him. She knew that these things happened. Particularly in his world, to men who were celebrities and were easy targets for extortion and blackmail and greed.

“I don't know yet. There's nothing much I can do for the moment, except wait and see what she does. I just wanted to warn you that there could be a land mine down the road for us, if she goes public with it.”

“Would you marry her if she has the baby?” Alex asked, looking worried.

“Are you crazy? There's no way. I hardly know her. And other than great legs, and other similar attributes, what I do know, I don't like.” At least not anymore. “I'm not in love with her, never was, and never will be. And I'm not foolish or noble enough to marry her under these circumstances. At worst, I'll have to pay her child support, at best the whole thing will vanish. I told her I would never see the child, and I meant it.”

But that was a whole other kettle of fish, involving responsibility and morality. She knew he would have to review the situation later, if she really did have the baby. But at least he wasn't in love with the woman, and didn't intend to marry her. In essence, it affected nothing between Coop and Alex. Except for some noise that could come up later in the tabloids, and that didn't worry Alex. All she cared about was how he felt about her.

“I hate to say it,” Alex said, as Coop held his breath and waited for what was coming. “And I'm sure you don't feel that way about it, but it doesn't sound like a big deal, Coop. These things probably happen to men in your shoes with a fair degree of regularity. It's unpleasant but it's not earth-shattering. I feel a lot better knowing about it, and I just don't see that it's such a big problem. Embarrassing maybe, if it comes out. But things like this happen all the time. I feel a lot better,” she beamed at him, “I thought you were about to tell me it was over.” In fact, life was just beginning for them.

“You're amazing.” He sat back, as he exhaled, and took a long, grateful look at her. “I truly love you. I was afraid you'd tell me to get lost and throw me back in the river.”

“Not likely.” Neither of them had eaten lunch, they had been so intent on what he was saying. “I think there's a distinct possibility you're a keeper.” He felt the same way about her, and he was about to tell her so, when her pager went off, and she glanced at it.

“Shit!” she said, taking a swig of coffee as she stood up. “Someone's coding… I gotta go… don't worry, everything's fine… I love you… I'll call you later….” She was halfway across the cafeteria at a dead run before he knew what had happened. And he stood up and called out to her as everyone around him stood staring.

“I love you!” he shouted. She turned back with a smile and waved, as a man wearing a hairnet cleaning tables with a wet cloth grinned at him.

“Right on!” Coop smiled at him, and walked out of the cafeteria with a light heart and a spring in his step that hadn't been there when he'd walked in. Alex was a remarkable woman, and in spite of what had happened, she was still his.

Chapter 14

Jimmy was sitting in his kitchen going over a stack of papers he'd brought home from work, and trying to decide if he wanted to cook dinner. He never seemed to eat dinner anymore, except when friends from work talked him into it, or Mark came by with a steak and a six-pack. He didn't care if he ate or not, if he lived or didn't. He was just getting through the days. And the nights were endless.

It had been three months since Maggie died, and he was beginning to wonder if it would ever get better. There was no end in sight to the grief he was feeling. And at night, he lay in bed and cried. He never fell asleep until 3 or 4 A.M., and some nights he was awake until daylight.

He knew that moving into the gatehouse had been a good thing, but what he also knew now was that he had brought Maggie with him. She went with him everywhere, in his heart, in his head, in his bones, in his body. She was part of him now, part of every thought and reaction. Part of the way he looked at things, and what he believed, and wanted. Sometimes he felt more Maggie than Jimmy. He saw everything through her eyes. She had taught him so much. He wondered sometimes if that was why she had died. Because she had taught all the lessons she was meant to. But thinking that still didn't make it any easier for him. He missed her unbearably, and the pain he felt night and day was barely tolerable. Nothing made it better. He managed to stave it off for a few hours sometimes, like when he hung out with Mark, or went to work, or coached softball to the kids he worked with. But it was always waiting there for him, like an old friend, the pain that lurked everywhere and waited to overtake him. It was a fight he couldn't seem to win. For the moment, the pain was still winning.

He had just decided not to bother cooking anything, when he heard a knock on the door, and got up to answer it. He was looking tired and disheveled, and smiled when he saw it was Mark. Jimmy saw less of him now, because Mark was busy with his children. He had to cook dinner for them, and help them with homework. But he often called Jimmy and invited him to join them for dinner. Jimmy liked Jessica and Jason, and being with them was fun. But that made him lonely too. It reminded him that he and Maggie should have had children, and now he would never have her babies, or her arms to hold him ever again.

“I just bought groceries,” Mark explained, “I thought I'd stop by and see if you want to come for dinner.” Sometimes, Mark knew, it was better to drop in on him. It was good to get in his face and drag him out of his cave. Jimmy isolated a lot, and Mark knew he was having a tough time about Maggie. Even more so lately. It was as though with the nice weather, and the feeling of spring everywhere, he was even more lonely for her.

“Naw…it's okay…but thanks I brought a mountain of shit home from work. I'm always out doing home visits, and I never seem to be able to get anything done in the office.” He looked pale and tired to Mark, and he felt sorry for him. It had been a rough stretch for Jimmy, and Mark knew it. He'd had a tough time too, but things had gotten better for him when his kids came back to California to live with him. He just hoped something happened soon to make things easier for Jimmy. He was a bright, good-looking guy, and a nice one. They hadn't even had time to lob tennis balls at each other lately. The kids were keeping him too busy, and he never seemed to have any free time.

“You've got to eat anyway,” Mark said practically, “why not let me cook for all of us? I have to feed the kids in a few minutes. I'm making ribs and burgers.” It was almost a steady diet for them. He had promised the kids he'd buy a cookbook and learn how to make something else.

“Honest, I'm fine,” Jimmy said, looking tired. He knew Mark was trying to be a good Samaritan, and he appreciated it. He just wasn't in the mood to see people. He hadn't been in months, and it was getting worse lately. He had stopped working out, and hadn't been to a movie since the last one he'd been to with Maggie. It was as though by living a full life now, he would have felt he was being unfaithful to her.

“Oh, by the way, I almost forgot…” Mark said with a broad grin. “I have a little tidbit about our landlord.” He handed Jimmy a copy of one of the tabloids. He had seen it at the grocery store, and bought it to show Jimmy. It was too bad, but Mark had to admit, it amused him. The guy was a real shaker and mover. “Page two.” Jimmy opened the tabloid and his eyes grew wide.

“Holy shit.” There was a picture of Coop that covered half the page, and another photograph next to it of a sexy woman with long, black hair, and Asian eyes. The article was full of alleged details and innuendos about their passionate love affair, their love child, gossip about him, and a list of the many well-known women he'd been involved with. “My, my,” Jimmy said with a grin, as he handed the paper back to Mark. “I wonder if Alex has seen it? It's not much fun to be going out with a guy who gets himself in that kind of trouble. And she looks like a pretty straight shooter.”

“I don't think it's a big deal with them,” Mark surmised, “she's only been around for about ten minutes. And they don't seem to last longer than that with Coop. I think I've seen three so far since I moved in here. Keeps things interesting though, doesn't it?”

“For him at least. I'll bet he's real thrilled about the baby.” Jimmy couldn't help laughing at him. “Imagine having him as your father.”

“He'll be close to ninety when the kid goes to college,” Mark added.

“Yeah, and he'll probably be sleeping with coeds,” Jimmy ventured. It was an uncharitable exchange, but the tabloid article titillated them both, and as Mark left, Jimmy promised to come to dinner on the weekend.

Coop wasn't nearly as amused as he discussed the article with Alex when they had dinner that night. He was profoundly upset by it, and the fact that the news was out. And he was very glad he had warned Alex beforehand.

“Look, you've been in the tabloids a million times. It's part of your business. If you weren't who you are, no one would give a damn who you sleep with.”

“It was filthy of her to go to the tabloids.” He was livid, but Alex was calm.

“But predictable probably.” Alex tried to soothe him by assuring him that it didn't matter to her. And eventually, everyone would forget about the baby, if they ever heard about it in the first place. “Not everyone reads the tabloids,” she reminded him. He was relieved that she was so philosophical about it. It made things a lot easier for him.

They went out for pizza that night, and Alex did everything she could to distract him. But it wasn't easy. He was in a glum mood, and then when they got back to his place, he remembered something he had wanted to ask her. He invited her to go to the Academy Awards with him, and she was startled and delighted, and then looked suddenly worried.

He gave her the date, and she was pensive. “I'll have to see if I can get the night off. I think I'm working.”

“Can you trade it?” He knew the drill now.

“I'll try. I've been doing a lot of trading lately. I'm using up all my tickets.”

“This is a big one,” he said, hoping she would come. Not only did he want to share it with her, but he wanted to be seen with her. She lent an aura of respectability to him, and at the moment he needed that to counter the dirt Charlene was spewing. But he didn't want to explain that to Alex. Those were the inner machinations of Hollywood, and he thought he'd spare her the details.

She was spending the night with him again, although she had been reluctant to at first. But he was so uncomfortable in her apartment and it was always such a mess, it was easier just staying with him. Her studio was more like a giant laundry basket than an apartment. Coop had taken to calling it “the hamper.” And she enjoyed being at The Cottage. She loved being able to swim at night, and didn't mind running into Mark's children. There was something so peaceful and relaxing about the place. It was easy to see why Coop loved it and had hung on to it through thick and thin.

Two days later, she told him she had made another trade to get off for the Academy Awards, and then she panicked when she realized she had nothing to wear, and no time to shop for it. The only evening dress she had was the one she had worn to the Schwartzes' the night she met him. And she needed something fancier if she was going to the Academy Awards with Cooper Winslow.

“I never thought I'd be doing something like that,” she said with a giggle as she cuddled up to him that night. He was pleased she was going with him. There was another article about Charlene in one of the other tabloids. The flak was hot and heavy. But aside from that, he also loved the idea of sharing a major event with Alex. “I have nothing to wear, you know. I may have to go in scrubs and clogs. I don't have much time off between now and then to go shopping, if any.”

“Leave that to me,” he said mysteriously. He knew a lot more about clothes than she did. He had been paying for women's wardrobes for years, and selecting them for them when they didn't know how. It was one of his many skills. And he was generous to a fault.

“If you buy something, I'll pay for it,” she reminded him. She had no intention of becoming a kept woman. And unlike the other women he had gone out with, she was perfectly able to pay for her own extravagances, and intended to do so. But she appreciated his offer to find something for her.

She fell asleep that night dreaming of being at a ball, and wearing an enormous gown that swirled around her as she danced and danced with a handsome prince who looked just like Coop. He was the handsome prince. And she was beginning to feel like a fairy princess. The fact that one of the townsfolk was having his baby didn't seem to matter to her at all.

Chapter 15

The night of the Academy Awards came faster than Alex expected. It was two weeks after he'd invited her, and it was later than usual this year, in the third week of April. And true to his word, Coop had found her a fabulous dress at Valentino. It was midnight blue satin and the most elegant thing she'd ever seen, bias cut, and it showed off her flawless figure. All it needed, when she tried it on, was to be shortened. He had borrowed a sable jacket for her from Dior, and a sapphire necklace that took her breath away, with matching bracelet and earrings.

“I really do feel like Cinderella,” she said as she modeled it for him. He had also hired a hairdresser and makeup artist, to do her hair and makeup. And in order to save time, she dressed at his place.

She arrived from the hospital in scrubs, and three hours later, she emerged. Presto magic, a fairy princess. Better than that. She looked like a young queen as she came down the stairs from the master bedroom. He was waiting for her in the front hall, and he beamed when he saw her. She looked elegant and beautiful and very striking. She looked every inch the aristocrat she was, and when she looked in the mirror, she was surprised to see that she was reminded of her mother. Her mother had gone to balls dressed like that when Alex was a little girl. She even remembered a blue dress a little like it. But even her mother had never owned sapphires like the ones Coop had borrowed from Van Cleef and Arpels. They were enormous, and they suited Alex to perfection.

“Wow!” he said, and then bowed when he saw her. He was wearing one of the many dinner jackets he owned, that he had made by his tailor in London. He was wearing perfect patent leather pumps, and sapphire studs and cuff links that were his own, and not borrowed. They had been the gift of a Saudi princess, whose father had banished her to God knows where, rather than let her marry Coop. Coop often said that she had been sold into white slavery rather than allowed to become Mrs. Winslow. It made a good story, and the sapphire studs and links were very impressive. “You look incredible, my love,” he said, as they exited together.

Nothing he had told her had prepared her for the fanfare of the award ceremony. It was still broad daylight when they got there. There was a long red carpet going in, and an endless wagon train of limousines waiting to disgorge their contents. Beautiful women in expensive gowns, wearing dazzling jewels, were the norm, and photographers were pressing and shoving to take their pictures. Many of them were well-known actresses, and Coop usually attended the Oscars with one of them, but this year it meant more to him to go with Alex. They were the epitome of aristocratic respectability as they made their way slowly down the red carpet. Alex was wearing staggeringly high blue satin heels, and she was grateful for Coop's arm to keep her upright. And she smiled shyly as hundreds of cameras took their picture. Coop hadn't said it to her, but she reminded him of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. She was beautiful, elegant, and distinguished. And as she turned toward yet another bank of cameras, as Coop waved at them like a visiting head of state, there was a whoop at the guest wing of The Cottage.

“Oh my God!… That's her!… It's… what's her name…you know…Alex!!! And him!” Jessica was pointing as all heads in the room turned. Jimmy was watching with them, as he had the Golden Globes with Mark, and Coop and Alex had gotten out of the limousine, and were walking slowly into the Oscars. “She looks gorgeous!” Jessica was more excited to see her than any movie star, because she knew her.

“She sure looks good,” Mark said, as they all stared at Alex. “I wonder where she got the necklace.”

“It's probably borrowed,” Jimmy said sensibly, still wondering what she was doing with him. He thought she was foolish to be dating a man like Coop, and deserved better. All she'll ever be is “flavor of the month” to him, he had said to Mark, but Mark thought she was smart enough to know that, although neither of them really knew her, but they liked her.

“I never realized how pretty she is, she looks good all dressed up like that,” Mark commented. He had only seen her in shorts and T-shirts at the pool, and the night he had set the bushes on fire. But dressed as she was, he had to admit she was pretty impressive. He was beginning to look around and see women, unlike Jimmy who still felt as though he were brain-dead. Any interest he'd once had in the opposite sex seemed to have died with Maggie. But Mark hadn't started dating yet either. He was just looking. He had no time to anyway, he was too busy keeping track of his children.

Coop and Alex walked off the screen then, and went in to the Oscars. They saw them again later, once they were seated, and the cameras panned on them. They got a close-up of Alex laughing and whispering something to Coop, which made him laugh in answer. They seemed to be very happy together. And later on, the fans at The Cottage saw them going in to the Vanity Fair party at Morton's. She was wearing the sable jacket and looked as glamorous as any movie star. Maybe better, because she was real.

She had a fabulous time that night and thanked Coop profusely as they rode home in the back of the chauffeured Bentley. The turbo convertible Azure had gone back long since, because Coop couldn't afford to buy it. But the Bentley limousine had been his for years, and it looked very elegant as they came and went at the Oscars.

“What an incredible evening,” she yawned happily. It was three o'clock in the morning. She had seen every star she'd ever heard of, and although she'd never been starstruck as a young girl, she had to admit it was exciting. Particularly, seeing it all with Coop, who told her all the little inside stories and lurid gossip, and introduced her to everyone she had ever seen in a movie. She really did feel like Cinderella. “I guess now I'm going to turn back into a pumpkin,” she said as she leaned against him. He had been very proud of her, and said so. “I have to be at the hospital in three hours. Maybe I should just stay up.”

“It's an option,” Coop said, smiling at her. “You were perfect, Alex. Everyone thought you were a new star. You'll probably have a dozen producers sending you scripts tomorrow.”

“Not likely,” she said, laughing as she got out of the car at The Cottage. It was wonderfully peaceful, and nice to get home after a long evening. But she'd had a better time than she would have ever dreamed of, thanks to Coop, who saw to it that it was memorable for her, right down to her hair and makeup and the borrowed sapphire necklace.

“I ought to buy it for you,” he said regretfully as she handed it back to him, and he put it in the safe, along with the matching earrings and bracelet. “I wish I could.” It was three million dollars, as Alex had seen from the price tag. Rather a big ticket. But it was the first time Coop had admitted to her that some things were beyond his means. Although that one would have been out of reach for many. It didn't surprise her, and she wouldn't have accepted it anyway. It was a nice thought, and it had been fun to wear it. Louise Schwartz had been wearing a similar one, although it was noticeably bigger, which was hard to imagine. And Coop knew Louise had the same one in rubies. Louise had been wearing a spectacular gown, also by Valentino, who had made it especially for her.

“Well, Princess, shall we go up to bed?” Coop looked at her as he took off his jacket and loosened his tie. He was incredibly handsome, and looked as impeccable at the end of the evening as the beginning.

“Am I a pumpkin yet?” Alex asked sleepily, as she carried her shoes in her hand and walked up the stairs with her satin gown trailing behind her. She looked like a very tired princess.

“No, my darling,” Coop said softly, “and you never will be.”

It was like a fairy tale being with him, and at times it had a feeling of unreality to it. Alex had to remind herself that she worked in a hospital with sick preemies, and lived in a studio apartment filled with dirty laundry. Although she had other options, but she had long since decided not to use them. The glamour in her life, and the extravagance, was provided only by Coop.

She was asleep in his arms in less than five minutes, and when the alarm went off at five, she almost turned over and went back to sleep, but Coop pushed her gently out of bed and told her he'd call her later. Twenty minutes later, she was grinding down the driveway in her ancient car, and wide awake. The night before seemed like a dream. Until she saw herself in the morning papers. There was a big photograph of her with Coop on their way into the Oscars.

“She looks like you,” one of the nurses said as she ogled it, and then looked up wide-eyed when she saw the name under the picture. Alexandra Madison. Coop had forgotten to tell them she was a doctor, and Alex had teased him about it. She told him she had worked hard for her title, and expected him to use it.

“Can't I just tell them you're my psychiatric nurse?” he had teased her back. She looked radiant in the photographs, and Coop was holding her hand and beaming. It was a message to the world that all was well with him, and he wasn't hiding. It was exactly the message he had wanted to convey, and his press agent congratulated him later that morning.

“Good for you, Coop,” he said. Without saying a word, it countered all the filth and rumors in the tabloids. The subliminal message was, so what if he had gotten a minor porn actress pregnant, he was still who he was, and involved with respectable women.

There was another photograph of them in the afternoon paper. And when Coop called her, he told her that several of the gossip columnists had called him, from the respectable press, not the tabloids.

“They wanted to know who you are.”

“And did you tell them?”

“Of course. And this time, I remembered to tell them you're a doctor,” he said proudly. “They also wanted to know if we're getting married. I told them it was much too early to comment, but that you are the special woman in my life and I adore you.”

“Well, that should keep them busy,” she smiled as she sipped a Styrofoam cup filled with cold coffee. She had been working for twelve hours by then, but fortunately it had been a relatively easy day. She was more tired than she'd expected. She wasn't used to carousing all night and working all day. Coop had slept till eleven, and then had a massage, a manicure, and a haircut. “Did they ask about the baby?” she inquired, sounding concerned. She knew how much that upset him.

“Not a word.” And he hadn't heard anything from Charlene either. She was too busy talking to the tabloids.

But two weeks later, he heard from her lawyer. It was early May, and she claimed to be three months pregnant. She wanted support for the duration of the pregnancy, and she was ready to start negotiating child support and palimony with him.

“Palimony? For a three-week fling? She's crazy,” Coop complained to his lawyer. But she was claiming she was so sick she couldn't work until after she had the baby. According to her attorney, she was unusually nauseous. “Apparently not too nauseous to give interviews. Christ, this woman is a monster.”

“Just pray the baby isn't your monster,” his lawyer told him. And they agreed that whatever Coop offered her temporarily, had to be offset by a promise from her to have an amniocentesis that included a DNA test. “What are the chances it's yours, Coop?”

“I guess about fifty-fifty. As good as anyone's. I slept with her, the condom broke. Depends how my luck is running these days. What would be the odds in Vegas?”

“I'll have to check on that for you,” his lawyer said, sounding somber. “I hate to be crude, but as one of my clients put it, ‘You stick it in, you pay forever.’ I hope you're being careful now, Coop. That was a very pretty woman I saw you with at the Oscars.”

“And a smart one,” Coop said proudly. “She's a doctor.”

“And hopefully not a gold digger like the last one. The prospective mom is good-looking too. Eurasian or something, isn't she? But whatever she is, she has a heart like a cash register. I hope the rest of her was worth it.”

“I don't remember,” Coop said discreetly, and then hastened to defend Alex. “My doctor friend is anything but a gold digger. With her family background, she doesn't need anything from me. Not by a long shot.”

“Really? Who are they?” he asked with interest.

“Her father is Arthur Madison. None other.” The attorney whistled.

“Now that is interesting. Have you heard from him yet about the baby?”

“No, I haven't.”

“I'll bet you will, sooner or later. Does he know you're dating his daughter?”

“I'm not sure. He and Alex don't seem to talk much.”

“Well, it's no secret now. The two of you are in every paper in the country.”

“Worse things could happen.” And had. Charlene was in all the tabloids.

And a week later, so was Alex. They were rehashing the same news, only now they added Alex's photos to Charlene's and Cooper's. She looked like a young queen in the tabloids, and the headlines were predictably ugly. Mark kept buying all of the papers to show Jimmy, and Jessica was enamored with Alex, whom she ran into at the pool regularly, whenever she wasn't working. The two had struck up an easy friendship, and Alex liked her, although she didn't say anything to Coop. She knew how he felt about them, and he had enough on his plate for the moment.

He was getting calls from Abe these days too, reminding him that he was spending too much money, and concerned over the child support he was going to have to pay Charlene. “You can't afford it, Coop. And if you miss a payment, she'll put you in jail. That's how those things work, and from the look of her, she'll do it.”

“Thanks for the good news, Abe.” He was spending less money than he usually did on Alex because she had simple tastes, but his overhead was still too high, according to Abe. He kept assuring Coop that the reckoning was coming.

“You'd better marry the Madison girl,” he said, chuckling, wondering if that was why Coop was going out with her. Given who she was, it was hard to imagine Coop didn't have an ulterior motive, and he was still examining his own conscience. He was daily more convinced that he loved her.

And Liz had also called him about the furor in the tabloids. She was outraged.

“What a rotten situation! You never should have gone out with her, Coop!”

“Now you tell me,” he chuckled ruefully. “How's marriage?”

“I love it, although San Francisco takes a little getting used to. I'm always cold, and it's awfully quiet.”

“Well, you can leave him, and come back to me. I always need you.”

“Thank you, Coop.” But she was happy with Ted, and loved his daughters. She was only sorry she had waited so long to get married. She realized now how much she had sacrificed for Coop. She would have loved to have children of her own, but it was too late for that now. At fifty-two, she had to content herself with Ted's daughters. “What's Alex like?”

“An angel of mercy,” he said, smiling, “the girl next door. Audrey Hepburn. Dr. Kildare. She's terrific. You'd love her.”

“Bring her to San Francisco for a weekend.”

“I'd love to, but she's always working, or on call. She's the senior resident. It's a big responsibility.” It was an odd match for him, Liz couldn't help thinking, but she was obviously very pretty. And the papers said she was thirty, which was the outer limit of the age he liked them. Anything between twenty-one and thirty was fair game for Coop.

Liz also asked him how much he was working. She hadn't seen him in anything lately, not even a commercial. He'd been calling his agent, but nothing seemed to be brewing, for the moment. But as his agent reminded him, he wasn't getting any younger.

“I've been working less than I'd like to, but I've got some irons in the fire. I just talked to three producers this morning.”

“What you need is one big juicy part to get everyone's motors going again. Once they see you in a big part, they'll all want you. You know what sheep producers are, Coop.” She didn't want to say it to him, but he needed a big part playing someone's father. The trouble was Coop still wanted to be the leading man, and no one wanted to hire him for that. But Coop just couldn't see himself as any older, which was why he was so comfortable with Alex. He never even thought about being forty years older than she was. And neither did Alex. She had pondered the issue initially and as she got to know him and fell in love with him, she dismissed it.

They were lying on his terrace talking about nothing in particular that weekend, when her pager went off. She was on call, but when she glanced down at it, she saw that it wasn't the hospital. She instantly recognized the number, and waited half an hour to pick up her cell phone. Coop was stretched out in a deck chair in the shade next to her, reading the paper, and only listening with half an ear to her conversation.

“Yes, that's right. I had a good time. How are you?” He had no idea who she was talking to, but the exchange didn't sound friendly, and she was frowning. “When?…I think I'm working…I can see you for lunch at the hospital, if I'm covered. How long will you be here?… Fine… see you on Tuesday.” He couldn't tell if she was talking to a friend or someone like a lawyer, but whatever it was, she didn't look as though she'd enjoyed it.

“Who was that?” Coop looked puzzled.

“My father. He's coming to LA on Tuesday for meetings. He wants to see me.”

“That should be interesting. Did he say anything about me?”

“Only that he saw that I was at the Oscars. He never mentioned you by name. He'll save that for later.”

“Should we take him to dinner?” Coop offered generously, although it still unnerved him to think that the man was younger than he was, and far more important. Arthur Madison was not only made of money, but of power.

“Nope,” Alex said, glancing at him. She was wearing dark glasses, so he couldn't read her expression, but it was definitely not warm and fuzzy, nor was she enthusiastic about seeing her father. “Thanks anyway. I'll see him for lunch at the hospital. He's flying back after his meeting.” Coop knew he had his own 727.

“Maybe next time,” he said pleasantly. But he could see that she wasn't looking forward to the meeting. And ten minutes later, she got called to the hospital for an emergency.

She didn't come back until dinner. And when she did, she went out to the pool for a swim and ran into Jimmy and Mark and his children. And for the first time since she'd met him, she thought Jimmy looked more cheerful. And the kids were delighted to see her. Jessica told her how beautiful she'd looked at the Oscars.

“Thank you. It was a lot of fun,” Alex said easily after swimming around the pool for half an hour. Jessica was in the pool with her and Mark, and Jason and Jimmy were throwing a baseball. Jimmy was telling him how to correct his throw and Jason was listening intently.

And ten minutes later, Jessica was quizzing Alex about what all the stars had been wearing, when Alex heard a whizzing sound overhead, and Jason threw the ball right through Coop's main living-room window.

“Shit!” Mark said under his breath, as the two women stared and Jimmy gave a whoop of excitement.

“Great throw!” he shouted at Jason before he realized where it had landed. The sound of tinkling glass punctuated his exclamation as Mark and Alex exchanged a look, and Jason looked panicked.

“Uh-oh,” Jessica added, and within instants, Coop was at the pool in barely controlled fury.

“Are we trying out for the Yankees, or just indulging in a little idle vandalism?” He addressed them generally, and Alex was embarrassed for him. There was no doubt about it. He hated mess and disruptions and children.

“It was an accident,” Alex said calmly.

“Why in God's name are you throwing baseballs at my windows?” Coop shouted at Jason. He had seen the catcher's mitt, and it was no mystery who had done it. The boy looked near tears in the face of Coop's outrage, and he was sure he was going to get in big trouble with his father, who had warned him about not rocking the boat by upsetting Mr. Winslow. He had already had one run-in with him with his skateboard.

“I did it, Coop. I'm really sorry.” Jimmy stepped forward. “I should know better.” It broke his heart to see how upset his young friend was, and there wasn't much Coop could do to Jimmy. “I'll replace it.”

“I should hope so. Although I don't believe you. I think it was young Mr. Friedman who did it.” He glanced from Jason to Mark and then back to Jimmy, as Alex got out of the pool and grabbed a towel.

“I'll replace it if you want, Coop,” Alex said generously. “No one meant to do it.”

“This isn't a ballpark,” he said angrily. “Those windows take forever to make, and they're damn near impossible to install.” They were curved and had been blown specially for the house. It was going to cost a fortune to replace it. “Keep your children under control, Friedman,” Coop said unpleasantly and disappeared back into the main house as Alex looked apologetically at the others.

“I'm really sorry,” she said softly. It was a side of him she didn't like to see, but he had warned her often enough that he hated children.

“What an asshole,” Jessica said loudly.

“Jessie!” Mark said sternly, as Jimmy looked at Alex.

“I agree with her, but I'm really sorry. I should have taken him out on the tennis court to throw balls. It never occurred to me he'd throw one through a window.”

“It's okay,” Alex said sympathetically. “He's just not used to kids. He likes everything peaceful and perfect.”

“Life isn't like that,” Jimmy said simply. He dealt with kids every day, and nothing was ever peaceful or perfect or the way you expected, that was what he loved about it. “At least mine isn't.”

“Neither is mine,” Alex said realistically, “but his is. Or he likes to think it is.” They were all thinking of the mess in the tabloids. “Don't worry about it, Jason. It's just a window. Not a person. You can always replace things, not people.” And as she said it, she could have cut her tongue out, as she glanced at Jimmy.

“You're right,” he said softly.

“I'm sorry… I didn't mean that “She was horrified.

“Yes, you did. And you're right. We all forget that sometimes. We get so attached to our stuff, our ‘things.’ It's the people that matter. The rest is all bullshit.”

“I deal with that every day,” she said and he nodded.

“I learned that lesson the hard way,” he said honestly and smiled at her. He liked her. He couldn't understand what she was doing with a man who was all about show and pretense. Everything about her seemed honest and real. “Thanks for being nice to Jason. I'll take care of it.”

“No, I will,” Mark interjected. “He's my son. I'll pay for it. Just be careful next time,” he said to Jason, and then glanced at Jimmy. “And that goes for you too.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Jimmy said, looking apologetic, and they all laughed as Jessica and Jason watched them. Jason figured he had gotten off pretty easy, except for Mr. Winslow yelling at him, but everyone else had been pretty decent. He had expected his dad to kill him when he saw the ball sail through the window. “It was a great throw though, Jason. I'm proud of you.”

“Let's not go that far,” Mark added. He didn't want to give Coop an excuse to evict them. “Let's keep our ball sports on the tennis court from now on. Deal?” Both Jason and Jimmy nodded, as Alex put her shorts back on over her wet bathing suit and pulled on her T-shirt.

“I'll see you guys soon,” Alex said as she left them, with her long dark hair wet behind her. Both men watched her go, and Mark commented as soon as she was out of earshot.

“Jessie's right. He is an asshole. And she is a great woman. He doesn't deserve her, no matter how good he looks. He's going to make mincemeat of her.”

“I think he's going to marry her,” Jessica added with interest, joining into the conversation. She wished her father would go out with someone like Alex.

“I hope not,” Jimmy added, as he put an arm around Jason, and the four of them went home to the guest wing. Mark was doing another barbecue for them, and Jimmy had agreed to stay for dinner.

And upstairs, in the main house, Alex was scolding Coop, who was still fuming.

“He's just a kid, Coop. Didn't you do things like that when you were a boy?”

“I was never a boy. I was born wearing a suit and a tie, and sprang full-blown into manhood, with good manners.”

“Don't be such an asshole,” she teased as he kissed her.

“Why not? I enjoy having tantrums. Besides, you know how much I hate children.”

“What if I told you I was pregnant?” she asked, with a look that nearly made his jaw drop.

“Are you?”

“No. But what if I were? You'd have to put up with skateboards and broken windows and dirty diapers and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all over the furniture. It's something to think about.”

“Must I? I'm getting nauseous. You, Dr. Madison, have a vicious sense of humor. I hope your father beats you when he sees you.”

“I'm sure he will,” Alex said coolly. “He usually does.”

“Good, you deserve it.” It was a meeting he would have given almost anything to be at. But Alex hadn't invited him, and she didn't intend to. “When are you seeing him?”

“On Tuesday.”

“Why do you suppose he wants to see you?” Coop asked with obvious curiosity. He was convinced it was about him.

“We'll see,” Alex said with a smile, as they walked slowly arm in arm up to his bedroom. She had a sure cure for his tantrums. In fact, the incident with the baseball was already nearly forgotten as she kissed him. And a moment later, the broken window was the farthest thing from his mind.

Chapter 16

Alex could have predicted the way the meeting with her father went on Tuesday, or at least to some degree. It was the way meetings with him always went. Nothing ever changed in her dealings with him.

He arrived five minutes early, and he was waiting in the cafeteria for her when she arrived. He was tall and slim, with gray hair and blue eyes, and he looked stern. He always had to have an agenda when he saw her. He could never just talk to her and ask her how she was. Instead, he seemed to go down some kind of mental list, as though he were running a board meeting, and in some ways he was. The only affectionate thing he said to her that even indicated that they were related was that her mother sent her love. And her mother was no warmer than he, which was why she had tolerated being married to him for all those years. But it was her father who had total control. Except over Alex. It was the bone of contention between them, and had been a raging battle all her life.

It took him exactly ten minutes to get down to business with her, and he didn't waste any time.

“I wanted to speak to you about Cooper Winslow, Alex. And I didn't want to do it on the phone.” It made no difference to her. Their exchanges were so distant and so bloodless, being face-to-face added nothing at all.

“Why not?”

“I thought this was a sufficiently important matter, to warrant our meeting in person.” For Alex, the fact that he was her father would have been enough to warrant seeing him, but that didn't even occur to him. There always had to be a reason. “It's a delicate matter, and I'm not going to beat around the bush.” He never did, but then again, neither did she. She would have hated to admit it, but in some ways she was not unlike him. She was ruthlessly honest, not only about others, but also about herself. She had principles that she adhered to and she was very clear about what she believed. The major difference between them was that Alex was kind, and he was not. Arthur Madison wasted no time on emotions, and never minced words. And if something unpleasant had to be done, he was the first one to volunteer. He just had.

“How serious is this affair between you?” he asked bluntly, his eyes narrowing on hers. He knew her well, and he was reading her face. He knew she wouldn't lie to him, but it was unlikely that she would tell him how she felt either. She felt that it was her business and not his.

“I don't know yet,” she said carefully, and in fact it was true.

“Are you aware that the man is up to his neck in debt?” Coop had never said it to her, but the fact that he had tenants had suggested to her that things were tight. And he was no longer getting a lot of work, in fact hadn't in years. But she had assumed, incorrectly, that he had some money put away. And of course, The Cottage was worth a great deal. Her father knew it was the only asset he had, and there was an enormous mortgage on it.

“I don't discuss his financial affairs with him,” she said succinctly. “They're none of my business, any more than mine are his.”

“Has he asked you about your income, or your inheritance?”

“Of course not, he's much too polite for that,” she countered honestly. Coop was far too well bred to discuss her money with her.

“And too shrewd. He has probably done a thorough check on you, just as I did on him. I have a file an inch thick on him on my desk. And it's not good news. He's been in over his head for years, he has a mountain of bad debts. His credit is nonexistent, I don't think he could borrow a book at the library, if he tried. And he has a knack for attracting rich women. He's been engaged to at least five.”

“He has a knack for attracting all women,” Alex corrected him. “What you're saying is that he's after me for my money? Is that correct?” Like him, she cut to the chase. They were an even match. And she was hurt that he was suggesting that Coop only saw her as an easy mark. She was absolutely certain that he loved her, and it was unfortunate that he also happened to be in debt.

“Yes, I am. I think it's entirely possible his motives aren't as pure as you'd like to think, and he's setting you up. Maybe even unconsciously. Maybe he's not even aware of it himself. The man is in a terrible spot. Alex, desperation is not a good thing, for either of you. It might even force him to want to marry you, when he might not otherwise. Aside from that, he's far too old for you. I think you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. I had no idea you were even seeing him, until your mother saw you with him at the Academy Awards. We were both quite shocked. Apparently he went out with someone she knew many years ago. He didn't do anything inappropriate, but he's been around for a very long time. And I assume you know about this illegitimate baby with the porn star. That's just the icing on the cake.”

“It can happen to anyone,” she said calmly, hating her father for every word he had said, although nothing showed in her face. She had concealed all of her emotions from him for years.

“Those things don't happen to responsible men. He's a playboy, Alex. He's had a life of extravagance and self-indulgence. He hasn't saved a dime. And his debts currently amount to just under two million dollars, not to mention the mortgage on his house.”

“If he gets one decent part in a movie,” she defended him valiantly, “he could wipe out his debt.” She loved him, no matter what her father said.

“The trouble is, he won't. He can't get work. He's too old. And even if he got a windfall, which is unlikely, he's far more likely to spend it, just as he always has. Is that who you want to be married to, Alex? A man who is going to run through money like water, and spend every cent he gets? And possibly yours as well? Just why do you think he's pursuing you? It would be impossible to believe he doesn't know who you are, and who I am.”

“Of course he does. I haven't given him a penny, and he hasn't asked me. He's extremely proud.”

“He's full of hot air. All hat and no cattle, as they say in Texas. He can't afford to support you or himself. And what about this woman expecting his child? What's he going to do about that?”

“Support her if he has to,” she said fairly, “he doesn't even know yet if it's his. She has to submit to tests in July.”

“She wouldn't accuse him of it if the baby weren't his.”

“She might. I actually don't care about it. It's not pleasant, but it's not the end of the world. These things happen. It matters to me a lot more that he's nice to me, and he is.”

“Why wouldn't he be? You're rich and you're single, not to mention the fact that you're a very attractive girl. But frankly, if your last name weren't Madison, I don't think he'd be giving you the time of day.”

“I don't believe that for a second,” Alex said, looking her father right in the eye. “But we'll never know, will we, Dad? I am who I am, and I have what I have, and I'm not going to select the men in my life by the size of their trust fund. He's from a respectable family. He's a good man. Some people don't have money. That's just the way it is. And I don't give a damn.”

“Is he honest with you, Alex? Has he ever told you he's in debt?” He was pressing the point, and trying to undermine everything she felt for Coop, and he for her. But she didn't care. Even if she'd never seen his balance sheet, she knew who Coop was, his quirks, his virtues, and his flaws. And she loved him just as he was. The only thing that worried her was the fact that he didn't want children at his age. That concerned her far more, because she did want them at some point.

“I already told you, we don't discuss financial matters, his or mine.”

“The man is forty years older than you are. If you marry him, God forbid, you're going to wind up being his nurse.”

“Maybe that's a risk I'll have to take. It wouldn't be the end of the world.”

“You say that now. When you're forty, he'll be eighty, twice your age. It's ridiculous, Alex. Be sensible. And be smart. I think the man is gunning for your wallet, not your heart.”

“That's a disgusting thing to say,” she said heatedly.

“Who can blame him? What if he's trying to provide for his old age, and trying to save himself now, and this is the only way he has? It's too late for him to do it any other way. You're the only meal ticket he has. The girl having his baby isn't going to support him. It's not pretty, Alex, but this book is very easy to read.

“I'm not telling you to stop seeing him, if he means something to you. But for God's sake, be careful, and don't marry him, whatever you do. And if you do, if you're foolish enough to risk it, I can assure you I'm going to do everything I can to stand in your way. I'll talk to him if I have to, and warn him off. He's going to have a very powerful enemy in me.”

“I knew I could count on you, Dad,” Alex said with a tired smile. Even if he meant well, he did it in such an ugly, painful way. It was the way he had always dealt with her. It was all about power and control. And when Carter had run off with her sister, hours before her wedding, he had blamed Alex, and told her that if she'd handled him right, he never would have done it to her. Everything was always her fault. Although she'd heard he was less enthused about Carter these days. He had invested a lot of her sister's money in the stock market unwisely, and lost it all. Fortunately, she still had a lot left. But if nothing else, it proved he wasn't very smart.

“I know you think what I'm saying is very unkind, and it is. I was worried about him, and about you. And when I began looking into it, I was horrified by what I found. He may be attractive, and obviously he is, as you say, and charming I'm sure, undoubtedly fun to be with, all of which is very alluring at your age. But the rest is an absolute disaster, and I don't think he'll make you happy in the long run, if he even marries you. He's never gotten married before. He didn't have to. He just has fun and then moves on to the next one. That's not serious, Alex. And it's not what I want for you. To see you paraded around, swept off your feet, and tossed away. Or worse yet, married and used to meet his financial needs. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am,” her father said unhappily. But if anything, it didn't warn her off Coop, it only increased her allegiance to him. Her father's speech had had the reverse effect. Hearing about the extent of Coop's debt, she felt sorry for him.

Mercifully, her pager went off at the end of his speech. It wasn't an emergency, but she used it as an excuse to bring the meeting to a close. They hadn't eaten a thing. What he had to say was far more important, and he felt it was his responsibility. He had discussed the entire matter with her mother, and as usual, she didn't want to get involved. But she had encouraged him to speak to Alex. Someone had to talk to her. And he was always willing to do the dirty work. It had been a very unpleasant hour for both of them.

“I've got to go back to work,” Alex said, and he stood up.

“I think you ought to do your best to stay out of the papers with him, Alex. Being seen with him isn't going to do your reputation any good. You'll have every fortune hunter in the world running after you.” And so far, mainly due to her own efforts, and the way she lived, she had avoided that. The people she knew at work had no idea who she was, or more important, who her father was, and she liked it that way. “They're all going to smell blood in the water, after Winslow gets through with you.” Another lovely image. He saw her as chum for the sharks. She knew her father cared about her, but the way he expressed it was revolting. And the way he perceived the world seemed pathetic to her. He was suspicious of everyone, and all too willing to believe the worst. It was inconceivable to him that, whatever Coop's reputation or financial pressures, he was actually, genuinely in love with her. And she believed he was. “Are you coming to Newport this summer?” he asked in an effort at more pleasant conversation, and she shook her head.

“I can't get away from work,” she said, but even if she could, she would have stayed in LA rather than go there. She had no desire to see her mother, her sister, or Carter, or her father, or any of their friends. She had renounced her passport to that world long since. She was staying in California with Coop.

“Stay in touch,” her father said stiffly, as she kissed him goodbye.

“I will. Say hello to Mom.” She never came out to see Alex, she never had. She expected Alex to visit her in Palm Beach, although she was perfectly able to travel, and went to visit friends all over the world. But she and Alex had nothing in common. Her mother never knew what to say to her, so she rarely called. She thought her oldest daughter an odd bird, and she'd never understood the need for her medical career. She should have stayed home and married some nice boy in Palm Beach. Even if it hadn't worked out with Carter, there were plenty of others like him, which was precisely why Alex had left. She didn't want a man like him. And for the moment, she was happy with Coop, in spite of everything her father had said.

He walked her to the elevator, and as the doors closed, he turned and walked away, as Alex closed her eyes and rode up to her floor, feeling numb. He always had that effect on her.

Chapter 17

While Alex was meeting with her father, Coop was relaxing under a tree, beside the pool. He was always careful to stay out of the sun, to protect his skin. It was part of the secret of why he never seemed to age. And he loved the peace and quiet of being at the pool in the daytime during the week. There was no one else around. His tenants were at work, and Mark's miserable kids were in school. He was lying there, looking pensive in the shade of the tree, and wondering what her father was saying to her. He was almost certain it was about him, in part at least. And he was sure her father wouldn't approve. He just hoped the old man wouldn't upset Alex too much. But even Coop had to admit her father had cause to be concerned. He wasn't exactly solvent at the moment. And if her father had done an investigation, he was undoubtedly well aware of it.

For the first time in his life, it actually bothered Coop what someone might think of him. For both their sakes, he had been meticulously scrupulous with her, in spite of his financial woes. She was just such a decent person, that it was hard to take advantage of her, although he'd thought of it. But so far, he had been remarkably good, and had held himself in check. Besides which, he was seriously beginning to suspect he really was in love with her, whatever that meant to him. It had meant different things over the years. Lately, it meant being comfortable and at ease, not having headaches in the relationship. Sometimes just liking her was enough. There were so many difficult women out there, and girls like Charlene.

It was so much easier being with a woman like Alex. She was fair and kind and funny, and she didn't ask for much. He liked that about her too. She was wonderfully self-sufficient, and if he did get desperate and the bottom fell out of his life financially, he knew he could turn to her. The money she had was like an insurance policy for him. He didn't need it yet, but he might one day. He wasn't with her because of her money, but he liked knowing it was there. Just in case. It made him feel safe.

The only thing he didn't like, and which kept him from making any overt promises, was that she was young enough to have kids, and probably should have them one day. That really was too bad, in Coop's eyes. And a real flaw in their relationship. But you couldn't have everything. Maybe being Arthur Madison's daughter was enough to compensate for it. He hadn't figured that out yet. But he would one of these days. She hadn't pressed him yet, and he liked that about her too. There was no pressure involved in being with her. There was a lot about her he liked. Almost too much.

He was thinking about her, as he walked back into the house, and ran smack into Paloma. She was dusting furniture and eating a sandwich at the same time. And while she did, she was dropping mayonnaise on the rug. And he pointed it out to her.

“Sorry,” she said, as she stepped on the spot she'd made with the leopard sneakers.

He had given up trying to train or educate her. They were just trying to survive on parallel paths without killing each other. And he had figured out several weeks before, that she was doing work for the Fried-mans too, but as long as she did what she had to do for him, he didn't really care. It wasn't worth the fight. Out of sheer necessity, he was mellowing. Maybe it was Alex's effect on him. The glaziers were working on his living room window that afternoon, although he still wasn't amused about the baseball incident. If he did have children with Alex one day, he hoped they wouldn't be boys. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. Like that damn woman Charlene. At least she wasn't in the tabloids that week.

He was pouring himself a glass of the iced tea he had taught Paloma to make. She left it in a jug in the fridge. And as he did, the phone rang. He thought it might be Alex, but it was an unfamiliar voice, a woman called Taryn Dougherty who said she'd like a meeting with him.

“Are you a producer?” he asked, still holding the glass of iced tea. He'd been a little lax about drumming up work since the incident with Charlene. He had other things on his mind.

“No, actually I'm a designer. But that's not why I called. There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you.” He thought she might be a reporter, and was instantly sorry he'd answered the phone, and he'd already admitted who he was. It was too late to say he was the butler and Mr. Winslow was out, which he did sometimes now that Livermore was gone.

“What sort of matter?” he asked coolly. He didn't trust anyone these days. Everyone seemed to want something from him, or Charlene did at least.

“It's a personal matter. I have a letter from an old friend of yours.” It sounded too mysterious to him. It was probably a ruse, or a scheme of some kind. Maybe from Charlene. But the woman sounded pleasant at least.

“Who would that be?”

“Jane Axman. I'm not sure you'll remember the name.”

“I don't. Are you her attorney?” It was also possible that he owed her money. He got a lot of calls like that too. He always referred them to Abe. Liz used to screen them for him, but now he had to do it himself.

“I'm her daughter.” The woman on the phone didn't seem to want to say more, but she insisted that it was important and wouldn't take much time. And he was ever so slightly intrigued. He wondered how attractive she was. He was tempted to tell her he'd meet her at the Beverly Hills Hotel, but he was too lazy to go out. And he was waiting to hear from Alex, after she met with her father. She hadn't called him yet. And he was afraid she might be upset. He didn't want to take her call on a cell phone in the middle of a restaurant.

“Where are you?” Coop asked as though it mattered.

“I'm at the Bel Air Hotel. I just arrived from New York.” At least she was staying at a good hotel. It didn't mean much, but it was something, and finally his curiosity got the best of him.

“I'm not far from there. Why don't you come over now?”

“Thank you, Mr. Winslow,” she said politely. “I won't take much of your time.” She just wanted to see him. Once. And show him her mother's letter. It was a piece of history for them to share.

She was at the gate ten minutes later, and he buzzed her in from the house. She drove up in a rented car, and when she got out, he saw that she was tall and blonde, in her late thirties, he guessed. She was actually thirty-nine. She was a good-looking woman, with a slim figure, and a short skirt. She was very well dressed, and seemed to have a sense of style. There was something familiar about her, but he didn't know what it was. He didn't think he'd ever seen her before. And as she approached, she smiled, and then shook his hand.

“Thank you for seeing me. I'm very sorry to disturb you. I wanted to get this out of the way. I've been wanting to write to you for a long time.”

“What are you doing in California?” he asked as he led her into the library, and offered her a glass of wine, which she declined. She asked for a glass of water instead. It was hot outside.

“I'm not sure yet. I had a design business in New York. I just sold it. I've always wanted to do costume design for a movie, but I think that's just one of those crazy ideas. I thought I'd come out here and look around.” And meet him.

“That must mean you're not married,” he said, handing her the glass of water she'd asked for, in a Baccarat glass. Paloma was using one like it to water the plants.

“I'm divorced. I got divorced, sold my business, and my mother died, all within a few months. It's one of those rare times when you have no encumbrances and can do anything you want. I'm not sure if I like it, or if it scares me to death,” but she smiled as she said it. She didn't look as though she would be scared by much. She was extremely poised.

“So what's in this letter? Did someone leave me some money?” He laughed as he said it, and she smiled in response.

“I'm afraid not.” She handed him the letter from the woman he no longer remembered, and didn't say another word. The letter was long, and as he read it, he looked up at her several times. And when he finished it, he sat for a long moment, staring at her, not sure what to say next, or what she wanted from him. He handed her back the letter, and looked serious as he did. If it was another blackmail scheme, he wasn't up to it. One of those was enough.