The Cottage (21 page)

“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.

“I've had six abortions. I can't have another one, Coop. And besides, I want our baby.”
Our baby
, therein lay the key. She was trying to pull him into the soup with her. He couldn't help wondering if she was
even pregnant, or if this was a ploy for money. “I want to see you.”

“That's also not a good idea,” and it was the last thing he wanted. All he needed was a hysterical meeting with her. What she really wanted was to get him back, and to make him feel obligated to her, but he didn't. He didn't for a moment believe that she was sincere about any of this, and he wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Alex. The affair with Charlene had lasted a mere three weeks. The one with Alex might last a lifetime. “I can't tell you what to do, but I strongly feel you should have the abortion.” He wasn't foolish enough to beg her. He would have preferred to strangle her, and the baby, if there was one. He was not yet even convinced she was pregnant, nor if she was, that it was his baby.

“I'm not having an abortion!” she said plaintively, and then started crying. She told him how much she loved him, and that she had thought they would be together forever, that she thought he loved her too, and what was she going to do now with a fatherless baby?

“Precisely,” he said coolly. He was determined not to let her know he was worried. “No baby deserves a father who won't recognize him. I'm not going to marry you. I'm not even going to see you or the baby. I don't want to be a father. And I never gave you the impression that I loved you, Charlene. We were two adults who had sex together for a few weeks, and nothing more. Let's not get confused here.”

“Well, that's how babies are made,” she said, and suddenly giggled. He felt like he was in a very bad movie, and he didn't like it. He liked her even less for
causing him this much discomfort. “It's your baby too, Coop,” she said, almost cooing.

“It's not my baby. It's not anyone's baby at this point. It's a nothing, it's a cell the size of the head of a pin, and it means nothing. You won't even miss it.” He knew that wasn't entirely true, because hormones would cause her to believe that she loved it. But he was refusing to address that.

“I'm Catholic.” He winced as she said it.

“So am I, Charlene. But if that made any difference to either of us, we wouldn't have been sleeping with each other out of wedlock. I don't think you have a choice here. You can either be sensible, or very, very foolish. And if you choose to be foolish, I'm not going to be a party to it. If you have this baby, you do so without my support or my blessing.” He wanted her to know that from the beginning, and he intended to be unwavering about it. He thought it was better that she should know it, and not harbor any illusions about him.

“You
have
to support it,” she said practically. “The law says so.” She was very clever. “And I can't work while I'm pregnant. I can't model or act with a big, fat stomach. You have to help me.” He could hardly help himself at the moment, and he had no desire whatsoever to support her. “I think we should get together and talk about it.” She sounded suddenly almost cheerful. He suspected that she thought she could eventually suck him into it, and maybe even into marrying her, if she had the baby. But all it did was make him hate her. In his mind, she was threatening not only
his finances, but his relationship with Alex, which meant a great deal to him.

“I'm not going to see you,” he said in a tone of icy determination. He was not going to let her do this to him.

“I think you should, Coop,” she said, with a menacing tone in her voice. “What will people think if they find out you won't take care of me or our baby?” She made it sound like he had walked out on seven children and a ten-year marriage. She was a girl he had slept with for a few weeks, and she had turned into a blackmailer and a nightmare.

“What will people think if they find out you're blackmailing me?” he asked with an edge to his voice he could no longer suppress when he answered.

“This isn't blackmail, it's fatherhood,” she said blithely. “This is what people do, Coop. They get married and have babies. Or sometimes, they have babies and get married.” She made it sound inevitable and he wanted to slap her. No one had ever done this to him before, not as cold-bloodedly or as blatantly. Every woman he'd ever gotten pregnant had been reasonable about it. Charlene wasn't, nor was she prepared to be. This was a golden opportunity for her.

“I'm not going to marry you, Charlene, whether you have the baby or not. Let's get that very clear right now. I don't give a damn what you do. I'll pay for an abortion, but that's all I'm going to do. And if you expect me to support you, you'll have to sue me.” But he had no doubt now that she would. As publicly as possible, most likely.

“I'd hate to do that, Coop,” she said regretfully. “It
would be such bad publicity for both of us. It could really hurt our careers.” He didn't want to anger her further by telling her she didn't have one, and the truth was, at the moment, he didn't either. No one was hiring him anyway, except for cameos, and the occasional commercial. But he still didn't want to be pulled into a scandal with her. He had never been involved in anything like that. He might have been known as frivolous, or a playboy, but no one had ever had anything truly scandalous to say about him. And if she had her way, Charlene was going to change that. And because of his current affair with Alex, her timing was appalling. Arthur Madison was really going to love that one. “Can't I just see you for lunch before you leave?” She sounded pitiful and innocent. She went from shark to minnow and back again in a matter of seconds. And for an instant he almost felt sorry for her, and then went back to feeling threatened.

“No, you can't. I'll send you a check this morning. And what you do about it is up to you, but rest assured I'm not going to warm up to this, or change my mind. I will not be involved in this insanity, if you have my baby.”

“See?” she sounded satisfied. “You're already thinking about it as your baby too. It's our baby, Coop. And it's going to be a beautiful baby.” She was waxing poetic, and he wanted to throw up as he listened.

“You're insane. Goodbye, Charlene.”

“Bye, Daddy,” she whispered and hung up, as he sat staring at the phone in horror. This truly was a nightmare.

He wondered what she was going to do about it, if
she would realize he wasn't willing to play ball with her, and have the abortion, or if she would insist on having the baby. If she did, it was likely to cause one hell of an ugly scandal, especially with Alex. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have said anything to her, but there was so much at stake, that he decided, given the possibilities with Charlene, he was better off making a clean breast of it with Alex. Charlene was a loose cannon, and there was no telling what she would do. He knew there were two things he had to do immediately, no matter how much he disliked them.

First he had to send Charlene a check to cover the cost of an abortion. And then he had to find Alex and tell her. He walked naked through his bedroom, and grabbed his checkbook. He jotted off a check in an amount he thought was suitable. And then he called Alex at the hospital and left her a message to call him when she had a free moment. He was not looking forward to telling her, but it seemed the wisest thing to do under the circumstances. He just hoped she wouldn't end the affair with him when he told her.

When Alex got Coop's
message, she called him back half an hour later. She'd been busy doing paperwork on a new intake, and after that they had another new admission, a preemie with a heart valve problem. It was presumably reparable, but the baby needed close supervision. And she sounded busy and distracted when she called him.

“Hi, what's doing?”

“Busy morning?” He was nervous, but he didn't want her to know it. Suddenly, he realized how much she meant to him, and not just because of her fortune. He genuinely didn't want to hurt her, or lose her.

“Not too busy. Things are moving, but they're not insane yet.” She seemed to be in full control of what she was doing, but she was always happy to hear from him, and to chat with him, when she had a minute. It had been nice of him to call her.

“Have you got time for a quick lunch?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“I'm sorry, Coop. I can't get out of here. I'm the senior resident in charge here. I'm stuck for the duration.”
She was on duty until the following morning. “I can't leave the building.”

“You don't have to. Why don't I come by for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, that would be fine, if you don't mind my being stuck here. Is something wrong?” He sounded all right, but he had never offered to come by the hospital before. She wondered if he missed her.

“No, I just wanted to see you.” The way he said it almost made her nervous. He had said he'd come by at noon, and as soon as she hung up, an emergency distracted her. She was still tying up loose ends and signing forms when the technician at the front desk told her there was someone to see her.

“Is that who I think it is?” the woman asked when she called Alex in her office. Her voice was filled with wonder, and Alex laughed as she answered.

“I guess so.”

“Damn, he's pretty,” she said admiringly, just out of his earshot, and Alex smiled as she put down her papers.

“Yes, he is. Tell him I'll be right there.” It was a good time to take a break, and she hurried out in her scrubs with her white coat over it. She was wearing socks and clogs, with her stethoscope at a crazy angle around her neck, and a pair of rubber gloves hanging out of her pocket. She was wearing her hair pulled back in a braid, and as usual, she never bothered to wear makeup when she was working. She looked like a teenager in costume as she hurried out to see him.

“Hi, Coop,” she said breezily, with a big smile, as people hanging around the ICU tried to stare at him
discreetly. She was used to it by now, and he looked as impeccable as ever, in a tweed sport jacket and a beige turtleneck, with perfectly pressed khaki slacks and brown suede loafers. He looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine and she felt like she'd been dragged through a bush backwards.