The Cottage Read Free Page B

understanding of the situation you're in. If you don't follow my suggestions, you're going to have to put the whole house on the market and sell it in six months. You're damn near bankrupt, Coop.”
    “That's ridiculous. All I need is a part in one major film. I got a terrific script for one today,” he said, looking pleased.
    “How big is the part?” Abe asked mercilessly. He knew the drill.
    “I don't know yet. They're talking about writing me in. The part can be as big as I want.”
    “Sounds like a cameo to me,” Abe said, as Liz winced. She hated it when people were cruel to Coop. And reality always seemed cruel to him, so much so that he never listened to it. He just shut it out. He wanted life to be pleasant and fun and easy and beautiful at all times. And for him it was. He just couldn't pay for it, but that never stopped him from living the way he wanted to. He never hesitated to buy a new car, or order half a dozen suits, or buy a woman a beautiful piece of jewelry. And people were always willing to do business with him. They wanted the prestige of having him wear or use or drive their things. They figured he would pay for whatever it was eventually, and most of the time he did, when he could. Somehow, in time, the bills got paid, mostly thanks to Liz.
    “Abe, you know as well as I do, that with one big film, we'll be rolling in money again. I could get tenmillion dollars for a picture by next week, or even fifteen.” He was living in a dream.
    “Make that one, if you're lucky. Or more like five hundred thousand, or three or two. You can't pull in the big money anymore, Coop.” The only thing he didn't say was that Cooper Winslow was over the hill. Even Abe had boundaries about what he felt he could say to him. But the truth was he'd be lucky to get a hundred thousand dollars, or maybe two. Cooper Winslow was too old to be a leading man now, no matter how handsome he was. Those days were over for good. “You can't count on a windfall anymore. If you tell your agent you want to work, he can get you some commercials, for fifty thousand dollars, maybe a hundred if the product is big. We can't wait for big money to come in, Coop. You've got to cut back until it does. Stop spending money like water, reduce the staff down to next to nothing, rent out the gatehouse and part of this house, and we'll take another look at things in the next few months. But I'm telling you, if you don't, you'll be selling this house before the end of the year. I think you should. But Liz seems to think you're determined to stay here.”
    “Give up The Cottage?” Coop laughed even more heartily this time. “Now that is an insane idea. I've lived here for more than forty years.”
    “Well, someone else will be living here if you don't start tightening the belt. That's no secret, Coop. I told you that two years ago.”
    “Yes, you did, and we're still here, aren't we, and I'm neither bankrupt nor in jail. Maybe you need to take mood elevators, Abe. They might help that dismalpoint of view.” He always told Liz that Abe looked like an undertaker, and dressed like one. Coop didn't say it, but he strongly disapproved of Abe wearing a summer suit in February. Things like that bothered him, but he didn't want to embarrass him by commenting on it. At least he wasn't suggesting Coop sell his wardrobe too. “You're serious about the staff, aren't you?” Coop glanced at Liz, and she was looking at him sympathetically. She hated knowing how uncomfortable he would be.
    “I think Abe's right. You're spending an awful lot on salaries, Coop. Maybe you should cut back just for a little while, until the money starts rolling in again.” She always tried to allow him his dreams. He needed them.
    “How can one Salvadorian woman possibly run this entire house?” Coop said, looking momentarily stunned. It was a truly absurd idea. To him at least.
    “She won't have to, if you rent out part of it,” Abe said practically. “That'll solve one