The Cottage (27 page)

“No, I don't. I've always worked. And I've never really wanted children, embarrassing as that is to admit.”

“Don't be embarrassed. It's genetic,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I've never wanted children either. They make a lot of noise, they're dirty, and they smell. Or something like that.” She laughed at what he said. She was enjoying him, and she could see why her mother had fallen in love with him, and decided to have his child. He was very charming, and amusing, a gentleman of the old school. Although nothing about him seemed very old, it was hard to believe that he and her mother had been the same age. Her mother had been ill for years. This man seemed years younger than he was. “Will you be here for a while?” he asked with interest. He liked her, and in spite of himself, he felt some kind of bond with her, he just wasn't sure what. It was too new. He needed time to sort it out.

“I think so.” She was still unsure of what she wanted to do. But she felt liberated now that she had done this. It had weighed on her ever since she found out. But now that she had met him, she felt free to go on with her life, whether or not she stayed in touch with him.

“Can I reach you at the Bel Air? It might be nice to get together again. Maybe you'd like to come to dinner one night.”

“That would be lovely,” she said, standing up, and bringing the meeting to a close. She had been true to her word. She had been there for half an hour. She wasn't trying to linger. She had done what she came to do. She had met him. And now she was going back to her own life. And she turned to him then with a serious look. “I want to assure you, in case you're concerned, that I have no intention of talking to the press. This is just between us.”

“Thank you,” he said, and was touched. She truly was a nice woman. She wanted nothing from him. She just wanted to see who he was. And she liked what she saw. So did he. “It's probably a crazy thing to say, but you were probably a very nice little girl. Your mother must have been a decent woman,” particularly for not making trouble for him and shouldering all the responsibilities herself. He wondered if he had cared about her at all. It was hard to say. But he liked her daughter, their daughter, very much. “I'm sorry she died,” he said and meant it. It was an odd feeling knowing that while he pursued his own life, unbeknownst to him, he had a daughter somewhere in the world.

“Thank you. I'm sorry she died too. I loved her very much.” As she left, he kissed her on the cheek, and she turned to him and smiled. It was the same smile he saw in the mirror every day, and that his friends knew so well. It was uncanny looking at her. He could see the resemblance himself, and her mother must have seen it too. It must have been odd for her. He wondered if her husband ever knew. He hoped not, for his sake.

Coop was quiet for the rest of the day. He had a lot to think about. And when Alex came in at seven, he was still pensive and she asked if he was okay. He asked about her meeting with her father, she said it had been fine, but she didn't say much more than that.

“Was he rough on you?” Coop asked with obvious concern, and she shrugged.

“He is who he is. He isn't the father I'd have chosen if they'd asked me, but he's what I've got,” she said philosophically and poured herself a glass of wine.

It had been a long day, for both of them. Coop didn't say anything to her about Taryn until they were eating dinner. Paloma had left some chicken for them, and Alex added some pasta to it, and made a salad. It was enough. And then Coop looked up with a strange expression.

“I have a daughter,” he said cryptically. And Alex looked up at him.

“It's too soon for her to know that, Coop. She's lying to you. She's just trying to soften you up.” Alex was instantly annoyed at what she thought was yet another of Charlene's tricks.

“It's not her.” He seemed almost in a daze. He'd been thinking about Taryn all afternoon. Meeting her had had a powerful effect on him.

“Someone else is having your baby too?” She looked shocked.

“Apparently someone did. Thirty-nine years ago.” He told her about Taryn then, and Alex could see how moved he was.

“What an amazing story,” she said, somewhat in
awe. “How could her mother keep that secret for all those years? What's she like?” She was intrigued.

“Nice. I like her. She looks a lot like me, I think. Better looking of course,” he said gallantly. “I really liked her. She's very…” he searched for the word, “dignified… honorable… something like that. She reminds me of you that way. She's very straightforward and decent. She didn't want anything from me, and she said she wasn't going to talk to the press. She just wanted to meet me. Once, she said.”

“Why don't you invite her back?” Alex suggested. She could see that he wanted to.

“I think I will.”

But instead, he went to lunch with her at the Bel Air the next day. They told each other all about themselves and were amazed at how similar they were in some ways, how many tastes they shared, right down to their favorite ice cream and dessert, and the kind of books they did and didn't like. It was uncanny how powerful the genetics were. And at the end of lunch, he had an odd idea.

“Would you like to stay at The Cottage while you're here?” he suggested, and meant it. He wanted to spend more time with her. She suddenly seemed like a gift in his life, and he didn't want to turn her away. He wanted her close to him, at least for a few days, or maybe even weeks. And Taryn liked the idea too.

“I don't want to intrude,” she said cautiously, but he could see it appealed to her.

“You wouldn't be.” He was sorry now that he had tenants in the guest wing and the gatehouse. It would have been nice to have her there. But he had an enormous
guest suite in the main house too, and he was sure Alex wouldn't object. He had told Taryn about her, and she thought Alex sounded wonderful, which Coop said she was.

Taryn promised to move in the next day, and he told Alex that night. She was thrilled for him, and excited to meet her. She still hadn't told him what her father had said, and she never would. In retrospect, she realized he had meant well, but she knew it would have broken Coop's heart to hear the horrors her father had to say. He didn't need to know. Her father just didn't understand who Coop was.

And whatever Taryn had brought to him, it was obviously meant to be. She had never seen Coop like that in the few months she'd known him. He seemed remarkably quiet, and totally at peace.

Taryn moved in to
The Cottage with very little luggage, and even less fuss. She was discreet, polite, pleasant, and easy to have around. She asked Paloma for nothing, and was careful not to intrude on Coop. And when Alex met her, the two women hit it off immediately. They were both solid, strong, honest women, who had a penchant for being kind. And Alex could see the resemblance to Coop. Not only physically, but they had the same naturally aristocratic look. It was remarkable. The two things she didn't have in common with him were that she traveled with very little luggage, and she was financially sound. Other than that, they were two peas in a pod. And Coop loved having her around.

They spent days getting to know each other, filling each other in on their pasts, and sharing their views and opinions on everything imaginable. There were differences and similarities that intrigued them both, and Taryn thought him a nice man. After they'd gotten to know each other, she asked him if he was serious about Alex, and he told her he wasn't sure. It was the most honest thing he'd ever said. Even in the short
time he'd known her, Taryn brought the best out in him, even more than Alex. It was as though she had come to make him whole. And he brought her something too. Now that she knew he existed, she wanted to know who he was, and she liked what she saw, although she saw his weaknesses too.

“I have a dilemma about Alex,” he confessed.

“Because she's so young?” Taryn asked, as they lay in the shade at the pool, while everyone else was at work. She had the same fair skin as he, and like her father, she instinctively avoided the sun, and had the same flawless alabaster complexion as he. Coop always said it was thanks to his distant British ancestry. He had “English” skin, and clearly Taryn did too.

“No, I'm used to that, young doesn't bother me,” he grinned. “She's almost too old for me.” They both laughed at that. He had told her about Charlene too. “Her father is Arthur Madison. You know what that means. I constantly question my motives about her. I'm up to my ass in debt.” His honesty seemed charming to her. He had never even told Alex that. “Sometimes I worry that I'm after her money. At other times, I'm sure I'm not. It would be so damn easy and convenient for me. Too easy maybe. The question is, would I love her if she didn't have a cent? I'm not sure. And until I am, I'm stuck. It's a hell of a question to ask yourself.”

“Maybe it doesn't matter,” Taryn said practically.

“But maybe it does,” he said, suddenly honest, which was an immense relief. She was the one person he could be totally candid with, because she had no axe to grind, and he wanted nothing from her. Not her
love or her body or her money. He just wanted her in his life. It was the closest he'd ever been to unconditional love. And it seemed to have happened overnight, almost as though he had known she was out there somewhere, and he was waiting for her to arrive in his life. He needed her. And maybe, in some odd and unexpected way, Taryn needed him. “The minute sex and money get into it, Taryn, it's a mess. It has been in my life anyway.” He loved sharing his secrets with her, and was surprised about it himself.

“Maybe you're right. I had a problem with that with my husband too. We built the business together, and in the end, it brought us down. He wanted to take more money out of it than I did. I did the designing so I got the recognition, and he was jealous of that. In the end, he tried to take the business away in the divorce. It was easier to just sell it and move on. And he slept with my assistant, and moved in with her when he left, which damn near broke my heart.”

“See what I mean,” Coop said, nodding, “money and sex. It screws things up every time. We've got neither one between us, and everything's so simple.” And it felt so right. His relationship with her had become precious to him overnight.

“How bad are your debts?” she asked with a look of concern.

“Bad enough. Alex doesn't know. I never told her. I didn't want her to think I was after her money to pay my debts.”

“Are you?”

“I'm not sure,” he said honestly. “It would certainly be simpler than working my ass off, hustling commercials
and God knows what else. But she's so decent, I don't want to take money from her. If she were different, I might. And I don't want money from you,” he said pointedly. He didn't want to add that to the mix, or corrupt what they had. He liked things just the way they were. It was clean between them, and he intended to keep it that way. “All I need is a part in a decent movie, a good part, and I'd be back on my feet. But God knows when that will happen, or if. Maybe never again. Hard to say.” He seemed philosophical about it.

“Then what?” She was worried about him. He seemed a little vague about his financial affairs.

“Something always turns up.” And if not, there was Alex, but that seemed wrong to him. That was what he'd been explaining to Taryn, and as they were talking, he suddenly pointed to her feet.

“Is something wrong?” Taryn asked. She'd just had a pedicure, and her nails were painted pink. She thought maybe he preferred red. But she always wore pink. Red polish looked like blood to her.

“You've got my feet.” He stuck his own next to hers and they both laughed. They looked like twins. They had the same long, elegant feet. She stuck her hands out. “And the same hands.” There was no denying her, not that he wanted to. He had been thinking of introducing her as his niece. But as time wore on and he got to know her better, he wanted to introduce her as his daughter, and he asked her what she thought.

“Sounds good to me, but not if it's going to screw things up for you.”

“I don't see why. We can just say you're big for fourteen.”

“I won't tell anyone how old I am,” she laughed, and they had almost the same laugh as well, “that works for me too. It's a bitch suddenly being single again at my age. I'm nearly forty, and suddenly I'm back out in the world. I've been married since I was twenty-two.”

“How boring,” he scolded her and she laughed again. He was fun to be with, and great to talk to. She loved spending time with him, and he with her. They had done nothing else for days, like catching up on an entire lifetime in one gulp. She brought the best out in him, and he in her. “It was time for a change. We'll have to find someone for you out here.”

“Not yet,” she said calmly. “I'm not ready. I need to catch my breath. I've lost my husband, my business, and my mother, and acquired a father all in the last few months. I need to move slowly for a little while. It's a lot to absorb.”

“What about work? Are you going to look for something out here?” He was protective of her now.

“I don't know. I've always wanted to try my hand at costume design, but that's probably a crazy idea. I don't really have to work. We sold the business very well, and Mom left me what she had. My father… my
other
father,” she said with a smile, “provided for me very well. I can take my time figuring it out. Maybe I can help you figure out yours. I'm pretty good at sorting things out and making sense of a mess.”

“That must have been in your mother's genes. I work it the other way round. I take ‘sense’ and turn it into a mess. It works for me. Financial chaos is familiar
to me.” He said it with good humor and humility, which she found endearing too.

“Let me know if you want me to take a look and tell you what I think.”

“Maybe you can interpret what my accountant says, although it's pretty plain. He's a one-man band. Essentially he says don't buy anything and sell the house. He's an incredibly boring little man.”

“It's the nature of the beast,” she said sympathetically.

And when Alex was around, they had fun too. The three of them cooked dinner together, went to movies, and talked endlessly. But when the time was right, Taryn always discreetly disappeared. She didn't want to intrude on them. But she enjoyed Alex immensely and had great respect for the work she did.