“How about if I make you an omelette? I'm rather good at those, if I do say so myself. You could make one of your lovely California salads,” he said hopefully, and she laughed.

“I'm not much of a cook,” she confessed. “I live on salads, and the occasional piece of fish.”

“You look it,” he said as a compliment. She seemed healthy, strong, trim, and very thin. He could tell even in her T-shirts that she had a lovely body, but so did her sister, who was a good decade older. Leslie had to try harder, went to the gym every day, and worked out with a trainer intensely before every film. His livelihood depended on it, and so far so good. He didn't show his age, and his body hadn't changed in ten years. But it wasn't easy. And his penchant for ice cream was a curse.

“The omelette sounds delicious,” she said as the ancient van labored up the hill on Divisadero. They barely made it to the crest on Broadway and the dogs were still asleep when they got out. “Everybody out!” she called to rouse them, as Leslie picked up the groceries they'd brought back with them, and she carried in the big straw bag full of clean clothes. They looked no different than the rest of what she had at Jane's. She always wore the same things, in different colors, and more often than not white T-shirts and jeans. She had a closet full of them, and since losing Ian, she never bothered to dress up. There was no one to see or care what she wore. All she needed was to be clean, warm, and have decent running shoes for work. It was a simple life, and far, far less complicated than his. Every time he went out, he had to look like a star. He had mentioned that he had a whole wardrobe to replace now, and didn't really care about that at the moment either, since no one was seeing him, and he wasn't going anywhere. It was a relief not to have to think about it, and a blessing not to have to worry about paparazzi in L.A. No one knew he was in San Francisco, except Coco and her sister and partner. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Leslie Baxter had disappeared. It defined freedom to him, which was what Coco cherished in her life too. Freedom and peace. It was almost like a blessing he was catching from her, and he liked it. It was an easy way to live.

While Coco turned off the alarm Leslie turned on the lights in the house. She left her tote bag at the foot of the stairs, and they put the groceries away together in the kitchen, while the dogs stood around waiting for dinner. She fed them, and then set the kitchen table with some of Jane's impeccable French linen place mats and elegant silver, while Leslie got out the ingredients for their omelette. And Coco made the salad he had asked for. She made a Caesar dressing, and half an hour later, she lit the candles, and they sat down to a simple dinner. As promised, the omelette was delicious.

“What a terrific day,” he said, looking happy, as they chatted about nothing in particular. The day at the beach had been great for both of them, and they finished the meal with Dove bars again.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked as they rinsed the dishes and he looked pensive.

“I think I'd like to take a swim. I checked the pool yesterday and it's very warm. I have to work out every day in L.A., but I'm too lazy to do it tonight,” he said with a grin. Jane had a very professional-looking gym, where she worked out daily with a trainer. Coco never bothered, nor did Liz, who always complained about ten extra pounds but did nothing about it. Jane was a perfectionist in all things, including her appearance.

“I get my exercise walking the dogs every day,” Coco said.

“After looking at the ocean all day, I really fancy a swim.” She smiled at the expression. Now and then he reminded her of Ian, with his very British expressions, that were the same as the Australian ones Ian had used. They were comfortable and familiar, and a little nostalgic for her. “I trust there are no sharks in the pool.”

“Not lately,” Coco reassured him, and he invited her to join him. She usually didn't bother to use her sister's pool, but it sounded like fun with him. “Okay,” she agreed.

They left the kitchen, went to their bedrooms, and five minutes later met at the pool, while Coco turned the lights on. It was spectacular, and indoors, since the weather in San Francisco was usually chilly. She knew that Jane swam in it daily and occasionally Liz.

They swam together for nearly an hour. Coco swam laps while Leslie watched her, and then not to be outdone, he swam laps alongside her. He was winded long before she was, but she was younger and in better shape.

“Good lord, you have the endurance of an Olympic swimmer,” he said in admiration.

“I was captain of the women's swimming team at Princeton,” she confessed.

“I rowed in my youth,” he volunteered, “but if I tried it now it would kill me.”

“I was on the crew team for a year, sophomore year, I hated it. Swimming was easier.” They were both relaxed and tired as they got out of the pool. He had worn plain blue swim trunks, and she wore a simple black bikini that showed off her figure, but there was nothing overtly seductive about her. She was a pretty woman with a good body, but she never flirted with him. She was coming to value their friendship.

They both put on the thick terrycloth robes Jane kept at the pool, and went back to their bedrooms to shower, dripping water on the carpet. He came to her bedroom a few minutes later, showered and clean, wearing the robe from the pool. She had on her flannel pajamas, and had just started a movie, not one of his this time, so as not to embarrass him. She knew it made him uncomfortable to see himself on screen, from what he had said the night before. “Want to watch? It's a chick flick. I'm addicted to them.” It was a well-known romantic comedy that she had already seen many times and loved. He said he had never seen it, and she patted the bed beside her. Jack hadn't taken his favorite place yet, and was passed out on the floor with Sallie. They had worn the dogs out totally that day, which Leslie considered a blessing. They still made him a little nervous when they got lively, particularly the bull mastiff, however gentle Coco said he was. He was still a two-hundred-pound dog.

At her invitation, Leslie settled back against the pillows to watch the movie with her. She disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a bowl of popcorn. She giggled and he smiled. It felt like being children again. Her cell phone rang as soon as she sat down. It was Jane. And he could hear Coco's end of the conversation. Yes, everything was fine. She gave her a full update on the dog. She assured her sister she wasn't bothering him, and Leslie suddenly realized that Jane was inquiring about him. It intrigued him to note that Coco did not tell her that they had gone to Bolinas, nor that they were comfortably ensconced on her bed, watching a movie together. The conversation was brief and more like an interrogation. There were no warm, intimate exchanges between the two sisters. Coco said yes about six times to what were obviously instructions, and hung up with a glance at him.

“She wanted to make sure I wasn't annoying you. Tell me if I am,” Coco said, looking hesitantly at him, and Leslie leaned over to kiss her cheek chastely to reassure her.

“I've just had the two nicest days I've had in years, thanks to you. If anyone is being annoying, it's me, intruding on you. And I really like this movie,” he said, grinning. “I usually stick with sex and violence. It's kind of sweet watching these two silly people bumbling around and falling in love. Do they wind up together in the end?” he asked hopefully and Coco laughed at him.

“I'm not telling. Wait and see,” she said, turning off the light, as they watched it on the enormous screen. It was like being in a theater, on a bed in pajamas. It was the perfect way to see a movie, as they shared the bowl of popcorn.

The movie turned out just as they wanted it to, as Coco knew it would. She loved seeing it again and again. It never bored her. The happy ending was always reassuring. She preferred those kinds of movies.

“Why can't life turn out that way?” he sighed, as he lay back on the pillows, thinking about the movie. “It makes so much sense, it's so reasonable and so simple. A few kinks to work out, a few minor dilemmas that can be resolved when everyone figures out what they have to do. They don't act like assholes, they're not mean to each other, no one is hopelessly screwed up by an abusive childhood, they're not out to get each other, they like each other, they fall in love, and they live happily ever after. Why is it so goddamn hard to have that happen?” He sounded wistful as he said it.

“Because people are complicated sometimes,” she said gently. “But maybe it can happen. It almost did to me. It happens to others. I think you just have to be smart going in, keep your eyes open, don't kid yourself about who you're getting involved with, be honest with them and yourself, and play fair.”

“It's never that simple,” he said sadly. “Not in my world anyway. And most people don't play fair. They're obsessed with winning, and if one of you wins, you both lose.” She nodded agreement.

“Some people do play fair. Ian and I did. We were very good to each other.”

“You were babies, and nice people I guess. And then look what happened. If we don't screw it up for ourselves, destiny does.”

“Not always. I know a number of couples in Bolinas who are happy. They don't lead complicated lives. I think that's part of the secret. In the world you live in and I grew up in, people complicate things, and most of the time they're not honest, particularly with themselves.”

“That's what I love about you, Coco. You are, and so straightforward. Everything about you is clean and good. It's written all over you.” He smiled at her as he said it.