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“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.