The Cooperman Variations by Howard Engel Read Free Book Online

is not much of a life. My everlovin’ husband, Jeff Cutler, is effectively estranged, loving it and living in Vancouver. He takes time out in La Jolla because he adores the mussels at George’s at the Cove on Prospect. He can’t stand my company. That’s not fair. He didn’t see enough of me to decide that. And, as with most modern married women, my ambitions will never be satisfied by a lifetime of lowering toilet seats. Jeff never did understand this crazy business. Or the insane hours involved. Since he left, I live alone. The place is cleaned by Lydia, who also buys my groceries. She leaves cooked meals behind her in the freezer. She also looks after my laundry and sends the bills to the miracle accountant who makes my life possible. He handles all of my business affairs: taxes, parking tickets and charity. There’s a woman at Holt Renfrew, Benny, who puts clothes on my back and looks after me in that department. If I say a word against her taste, I’m afraid she’ll quit. She holds me hostage.”
    “She’s doing a good job.” I said it because Vanessa had paused to take a breath in her monologue. I meant it, too. She was well turned out for her job. But then, Vanessa provided the building blocks for Holt Renfrew to work with. And the accountant paid the bills at the end of the month.
    “All that sounds organized and shipshape, Vanessa. Are there any complications in this arrangement? What about your family? Is all well there?”
    “Poppa and Momma are both dead. Even with me newly back from the grave, my sister still isn’t speaking to me. She thinks I did it to frighten her. We haven’t spoken since Momma’s funeral six years ago.”
    “I should get her name, just to check her out.”
    “Benny, you must be kidding! You think Franny’s out to get me?”
    “I’m just looking at the possibilities. Could you give her number to Sally for me? Anything I’ve left out? What about your private, unscheduled activities?”
    “Are you asking me if I have sexual encounters, Benny?”
    “Those aren’t the words I would have picked,” I said, feeling my collar growing smaller.
    “Why, Benny, you’re blushing!”
    “Damn it, I have to know it all if I’m going to do my job. What’s the use of telling me all this other stuff if you’re withholding this … this other stuff.” I was tripping over my words in some confusion. Vanessa kept her eyes on the traffic, but she was smiling at my awkwardness.
    “You met that boy who brought the car around?”
    “Yes,” I said. “George, the animator.”
    “Doesn’t he look a threat?”
    “Ask me when I know him better. Does he come with a last name?”
    “Brenner. Doesn’t that ripple with muscle tone?”
    “How serious is it?”
    “He’s ambitious and young, I’m well placed and not unattractive. It works out for both of us. Believe me, I have no long-term interest in George Brenner. We keep it simple. He really is a very talented computer animator, you know.”
    “But he won’t gain anything at the network if you … uh, leave, one way or another?”
    “No, he’ll go on parking cars and making out until his looks go. He dreams of surfing in San Diego. Isn’t that sweet? He is a dear, though, and very thoughtful.”
    “Could he be reporting to one of the heavies in your life?”
    “About what? I don’t discuss programming with him. We don’t even watch TV together.”
    “Who’s your boss, Vanessa? Who are you responsible to?”
    “That’ll have to wait, Benny. Here we are.” She drove between the fat granite pillars on the curved driveway and the young animator was there to take the car underground. Vanessa slipped him a golden smile as he moved his lithe, athletic frame behind the wheel and was gone in a squeak of brakes and a belch of exhaust.
    “Rule one,” Vanessa told me, was “never talk in the elevators. They’ve got them wired. One reporter was fired on the spot for talking about the Blue Jays’ selling a third baseman before