“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.