Jimmy and Mark promised to get together for dinner one night the following week. And as Jimmy walked up the path to the gatehouse, Mark walked into the guest wing, and smiled to himself again, thinking of his morning coffee, and the woman who had handed it to him. Lucky, lucky Cooper Winslow.
Chapter 7
Liz called Coop the morning after he had met Jimmy and Mark at the pool, and he was delighted to hear her. She had been married for a week, and was still on her honeymoon, but she was worried about him.
“Where are you?” he asked, smiling at the sound of her voice. It still seemed strange not to see her face every morning.
“In Hawaii,” she said proudly. She was using her married name every chance she got, and even though it felt strange, she loved it, and was sorry now she hadn't done it sooner. Being married to Ted was like a dream.
“How plebeian,” Coop teased her. “I still think you should ditch him and come back. We can have the marriage annulled in a minute.”
“Don't you dare! I like being a respectable, married woman.” Far more than she had ever thought she would.
“Liz, I'm disappointed in you, I thought you had more character than that. You and I were the last holdouts. This leaves only me.”
“Well, maybe you should get married too. It's really not that awful. There are even minor tax benefits, or so I'm told.” In truth, she loved it, and she had married the right man. Ted was wonderful to her. And Coop was happy for her, in spite of the inconvenience she had caused him.
“That's what Abe says. That I should get married. He says I need to find a rich woman. He's so unspeakably crude.”
“It's not a bad idea,” she teased him. She couldn't imagine Coop getting married. He had far too much fun playing the field. She couldn't see him settling down with one woman. He'd have to have a harem to keep him amused.
“I haven't met a rich woman in ages, in any case. I don't know where they're hiding. Besides, I prefer their daughters.” Or in recent years, granddaughters, but neither of them said it. He had been involved with his share of heiresses, and a number of very wealthy women of more respectable ages over the years, but Coop had always preferred the young ones. There had even been an Indian princess, and a couple of very wealthy Saudis. But no matter who they were, or how wealthy, Coop always tired of them. There was always a more beautiful, more exciting one just around the corner. And he always turned just one more corner. Liz suspected he always would, and if he lived to be a hundred, he'd still be turning yet one more corner. He loved being free.
“I just wanted to be sure you were behaving,” Liz said adoringly. She really did miss him. She had enormous affection for him. “How is Paloma doing?”
“She's absolutely fabulous,” Coop said, sounding convincing. “She makes rubber eggs, puts pepper on my toast, she turned my cashmere socks into baby booties, and she has exquisite taste. I've actually come to love her rhinestone glasses. Not to mention the fuchsia pumps she wears with her uniform, when she isn't wearing the leopard sneakers. She's a gem, Liz. God only knows where you found her.” But the truth was, much as she irritated him, he was enjoying the animosity that had developed between them.
“She's a nice woman, Coop. Teach her, she'll learn. She worked with the others for a month, some of it must have rubbed off.”
“I think Livermore had her locked up in leg irons in the basement. I may have to try that. Oh and by the way, I met my houseguests yesterday.”
“Houseguests?” Liz sounded startled. She didn't know about them.
“The two men who are living respectively in the gatehouse and the guest wing.” His tenants.
“Oh, those houseguests. How are they?”
“They seemed respectable. One is a lawyer, and the other one is a social worker. The social worker looks like a kid, and went to Harvard. The lawyer looks a little nervous, but he was perfectly pleasant. They seem reasonable and well behaved, as long as they don't start throwing beer bottles into the pool, or adopt undesirable orphans. They don't look like heroin addicts, or criminals. I'd say we got lucky.”
“Sounds like it. The realtor assured me they were nice people.”
“She could be right. I'll reserve judgment till they've been here a little longer. But for the moment, I don't foresee any problems.” It was a great relief to her, she had been worried about it, which was also why she had called him. “Why are you calling me anyway? You should be making mad, passionate love on the beach with that plumber you married.”
“He's not a plumber, he's a stockbroker. And he's playing golf with a client.”
“He brought clients on your honeymoon? Liz, that's a very bad sign. Divorce him immediately.” Coop was laughing, and Liz was relieved to hear him sound happy.
“He ran into the client here,” she said, laughing. “I'll be home in a week. I'll call you. Now, behave yourself, don't buy any diamond bracelets this week. You'll give Abe Braunstein an ulcer.”
“He deserves one. He's the most humorless, tasteless man on the planet. I should send you a diamond bracelet, just to annoy him. At least you deserve it.”
“I'm wearing the beautiful ring you gave me when I left,” she reminded him. She was always grateful to him. “I'll talk to you when I get back. Take care, Coop.”
“I will, Liz. Thanks for calling.” He enjoyed talking to her, and hated to admit it, but he missed her. Terribly. He had felt adrift ever since she left. His house and his life were like a ship without a rudder. He still couldn't imagine what he would do without her.
And when he checked his appointment book that morning, he saw her careful handwriting in it. He was expected at a dinner party at the Schwartzes' that night. They were the social stars of Hollywood, and had been for two decades. He was a major producer, and she had been an actress and great beauty in the fifties. Coop didn't want to go, but he knew they'd be upset if he didn't. He was far more interested in spending another night with Charlene, and he didn't want to take her with him. She was a little bit too racy for that circle. Charlene was the kind of girl he played with, not someone he wanted to be seen with at formal dinner parties. He had many categories of women. Charlene was an “at home” girl. The major movie stars he reserved for premieres and openings, where they would double their impact on the press by being seen together. And there were a whole flock of young actresses and models he enjoyed going out with. But he preferred going to the Schwartzes' parties alone.
They always had a roomful of interesting people, and he never knew who he'd meet there. It was more effective to be alone, and they enjoyed having him as a bachelor. He was fond of both Arnold and Louise Schwartz, and he called Charlene and told her he couldn't see her that night, and she was a good sport about it. She said she needed a night off anyway, to wax her legs and do her laundry. She needed her “beauty sleep,” she said, which was the one thing he knew she didn't need. She had no problem staying up all night, and looking ravishing in the morning. And he was always willing to ravish. But tonight belonged to the Schwartzes.
He met with a producer at lunch, had a massage afterwards, and a manicure. He had a nap, and a glass of champagne, when he woke up, and at eight o'clock, he was wearing his dinner jacket as he stepped out the front door. The driver he hired when he went out was waiting in his Bentley, and Coop looked more handsome than ever in the well-cut tuxedo with his silvery hair.