The Cottage (15 page)

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.

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.