Danielle Steel - The Cottage

“Well, that certainly spells things out, doesn't it?” He was a little taken aback by the vehemence of her speech, and it was easy to see how much they'd hurt her, particularly her father. Coop had always heard he was both ruthless and heartless. “I've always read that your father is very philanthropic.”

“He has a great PR man. My father only gives to causes that will do him some good, or lend him prestige. He gave a hundred million dollars to Harvard. Who cares about Harvard when there are children starving all over the world, and people dying of diseases that could be cured, if someone put up the money to do it? He doesn't have a real philanthropic bone in his body.” But she did. She gave away ninety percent of her income from her trust fund every year, and lived on as little as she was able. She allowed herself small luxuries, like the studio apartment on Wilshire Boulevard, but very seldom. She felt she had a responsibility to the world because of who she was, not in spite of it, which was why she had spent a year working in Kenya. It was also where she had realized that her sister had done her a huge favor by stealing her fiancé, although she hated her for the betrayal it had been. But she and Carter would have killed each other. It had taken her years to realize that he was just like her father, and her sister was just like her mother. All her sister wanted was the money and the name and the security and the prestige of being married to someone important. She didn't know who he was, or care. And all Carter wanted was to be the most important man on the planet. Her father was all about himself, and so was Carter. And they weren't close enough to discuss it anymore, but Alex had suspected for years that her sister was unhappy. Alex was sorry for her, she was an empty, lonely, vapid, useless human being.

“Are you telling me that if it comes out in the tabloids, or elsewhere, that we're involved, your father won't care about it?” he asked incredulously. That came as a surprise to Coop.

“No, I'm not. I'm telling you he'll probably care a great deal. But I don't care what he thinks about it. I'm a grown woman.”

“That was my point though,” he said, looking even more worried. “He probably wouldn't like you being involved with a movie star, let alone someone of my vintage.” Or reputation. He had been a notorious playboy for years after all. Alex was sure that even her father knew that.

“Possibly,” she said, offering only minimal reassurance. “He's three years younger than you are.” That piece of information smarted, and didn't seem like good news to Coop, nor had anything she'd said, except for the fact that she seemed indifferent to her father's opinions. But if he got angry enough, her father might cause her or Coop some real problems. He wasn't sure how, but people as powerful as Arthur Madison usually found ways to do it.

“Could he cut off your money?” Coop asked, sounding nervous.

“No,” she smiled calmly, as though it was decidedly none of Coop's business. But she suspected he didn't want to be responsible for her family causing her discomfort. It was sweet of him to worry about it. “Most of what I have came from my grandfather. The rest is already set up in an irrevocable trust by my father. And even if they could cut me off, I wouldn't give a damn. I earn my own living. I'm a doctor.” And the most independent woman he'd ever met. She wanted nothing from anyone, and surely not from him. She didn't need Coop, she just loved him. She wasn't even emotionally dependent on him, she enjoyed his company, and she was able to walk at any time, if need be. It was an enviable position to be in. Young, smart, free, rich, beautiful, and independent. The perfect woman. Except that Coop would have liked it if she were a little more dependent on him. He had no guarantees with Alex, and no hook in her. She was there by choice, until further notice. “Does that answer all your questions?” she asked Coop, as she leaned over to kiss him, with her long dark hair falling over her shoulders. She looked like one of the teenagers at the pool, in her bare feet, shorts, and T-shirt.

“Enough so, for the time being. I just don't want to cause problems for you with your family,” he said, sounding kind and responsible, “that would be a high price to pay for a romance.”

“I've already paid that price, Coop,” she said, looking pensive.

“So I gather.” It sounded like she had gotten the hell out of Dodge years before, probably when her sister ran off with her fiancé.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly. They read the paper, lay in the sun on the terrace, and made love in the middle of the afternoon. The teenagers calmed down eventually, and they hardly heard them. And after they left the pool, she and Coop went out for a swim before dinner. Everything at the pool had been cleaned up and put back in place, and appeared to be in good order. Mark had done a good job policing them, and made them tidy up everything before the party was over.

And that night, she and Coop went to a movie. Heads turned as he paid for tickets at the box office, and two people asked him for autographs while he bought popcorn. She was getting used to being noticed by people wherever they went, and amused when they asked her to step aside while they snapped his picture, usually while one or more of their group posed with him.

“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.