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.”