The Best of Friends

Fifteen

REBECCA SAT IN THE book-lined conference room and tried not to let anyone know she was nervous. The article had appeared that morning, and she’d already received nearly a dozen calls.

David walked into the conference room. She resisted the need to run to him so he could make her feel better.

“I don’t need a lawyer,” she said instead. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Not just a lawyer,” he said with a grin. “A team. We have a spin consultant and a media specialist coming, too.”

“Goody.”

“Along with Mom and Dad.”

She stood. “No way. I’m not staying if she’s going to be here. I don’t want to listen to whatever it is she’s going to say.”

But Blaine and Elizabeth appeared at the doorway before she could make her escape. Rebecca sat back down, wishing she hadn’t had that extra shot in her latte. It wasn’t sitting well in her stomach.

She’d called David after Jonathan had stalked out of the restaurant. He’d promised they would fix whatever problem Jonathan had created. While she believed him, she was seriously pissed that there was something that had to be fixed. Maybe she could have been slightly more sensitive when she’d broken up with Jonathan, but that was no excuse for what he was doing.

“Don’t worry,” Blaine said, moving toward her. “We’ll make this right.”

She stood and hugged him. “Thanks, Dad. Jonathan is being ridiculous. Conflict diamonds. I would never do that.” She stepped back. “I shouldn’t have told him about the jewelry at all.”

“But so interesting that he knows,” Elizabeth said coldly. “About your being Rivalsa. Apparently you all know, and no one thought to tell me. Now I’ll have to pretend to be excited and have a coming-out party.”

Rebecca watched Blaine and David try not to squirm. She felt a flicker of sympathy. None of this was their fault.

“Why would anyone tell you?” she asked Elizabeth. “You never showed any interest in me before. Your own daughter took off when she was eighteen, and you did nothing.”

Elizabeth pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. “Here we go again. I didn’t look hard enough. Poor, poor you.”

“You didn’t look at all,” Rebecca said coldly. “Admit it. You were relived not to have to worry about me.”

“Because every move everyone makes is about you. God forbid anyone go five minutes without considering what you might be doing or thinking. The world would cease turning.”

“Elizabeth,” Blaine said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t helping.”

“Oh, and if we’re not helping Rebecca, we’re not doing the right thing,” Elizabeth said, her voice thick with anger and contempt. “How foolish of me to forget.”

“Admit it,” Rebecca said, refusing to let her mother’s words hurt her. “You’re pissed because you love the pieces and you had no idea they were mine. Now it’s all going to come out, and you’re going to have to pretend you’re proud of me, that you knew all along. You’re going to have to convince your friends that it was a happy secret, when you’ll be left feeling like a fool.”

Elizabeth’s blue eyes turned cold. “How little you know me, Rebecca. My friends will be nothing but jealous to find out my daughter has been delighting them all with her jewelry. There’s no convincing. You’ve made me a celebrity. How that must annoy you.”

“Not as much as your not knowing it was me in the first place,” Rebecca said. “David’s known from the beginning. He helped me. Did you know that, Mom? Gave me a place to stay, looked out for me.”

David sighed heavily. Rebecca knew she was selling him down the river, but making her point with Elizabeth was more important.

“Dad came out to Australia to make sure I was all right,” she continued. “The rest of the family gave a damn, but not you. You couldn’t be bothered to check up on the mistake you’ll always regret.”

Elizabeth stood and faced her. “Look at this mess. Look at what you’ve become. Why wouldn’t I have regrets where you’re concerned?”

“Elizabeth.” Blaine’s voice was sharper now. “She’s your daughter.”

“I’m well aware of that, Blaine. But while you left for work every day, running the family business and enjoying yourself, I was left with an uncontrollable child whose only goal was to make my life a living hell. She was rude, defiant, and insulting to my friends. She skipped school, drank, slept with her friends’ boyfriends. She worked hard at destroying her life and taking me down with her.”

She turned to Rebecca. “You brought this on yourself. I’m not going to help you fix it.”

With that, she left. Rebecca didn’t watch her go. Instead, she turned to her father. “Dad, you really need to think about finding someone else.”

Blaine bent over and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll get right on that.”

David took the chair next to her and grabbed her hand. “What’s with the two of you?”

“She’s a bitch and can’t stand my perfection.”

He squeezed her fingers. “That must be it.”

She pulled back her hand. “I’m okay. She’s always been like this. It’s not new.”

“No, it’s not,” Blaine said, sitting on her other side. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew Tannin, the aging family attorney, walked into the conference room.

He greeted them all, then took a seat opposite and put down several sheets of paper.

“Well, young lady,” he said, smiling at Rebecca, “you’re in a bit of a pickle.”

Despite everything, she laughed. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“Conflict diamonds are a serious business. Very serious. The government is likely to get involved. So why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Andrew Tannin was about a hundred and eight, Rebecca thought. Would talking about sex kill him?

“My daughter ended a relationship,” Blaine said, surprising her by speaking first. “The man in question was angry. He knew about her work as a jewelry designer, knew she worked in diamonds, and planted the story.”

“Hardly gentlemanly behavior,” Andrew said, then tutted. “Do you have documentation on the diamonds?”

She pulled the folders out of her large tote and set them on the table. “No one wants to be accused of selling conflict diamonds,” she said. “Customers don’t want to think they’re supporting terrorism. I get my white diamonds from Canada and my colored diamonds from Australia. They’re more expensive, but we know exactly where each stone came from. The Canadian diamonds have a microscopic etching of a polar bear or a maple leaf on them. The Australian diamonds are numbered.”

She pushed the folders toward Andrew. He pulled a pair of glasses out of his suit jacket pocket and put them on.

“Like a dog pedigree,” he said, flipping through the papers.

“Sort of.” She tried not to smile. “I would never use conflict diamonds. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Andrew looked up. “Don’t you worry, young lady. This is all fixable.” He glanced at Blaine. “Do you want to sue for damages?”

“David and I will handle that.”

“I won’t ask any questions.” Andrew put his glasses back in his pocket and rose. “I’ll get started on this right away. Rebecca, make sure my staff knows how to get in touch with you. You’re not planning on leaving the country anytime soon, are you?”

“No. But I’ll want to eventually.”

“We should have this cleared up in a matter of weeks. I know people.” He winked, then left.

“He’s a weird little man,” she said when the door closed behind him. “But I like him.”

“He’s the best.” Blaine stood. “I think that’s everything.”

Rebecca thought about her safe at home and the hidden blue diamond Nigel would do just about anything to get back.

“Not exactly,” she said, and told Blaine and David about the stone. “It was my consolation prize,” she said. “Now Nigel’s in L.A., and he’s made it clear he wants the diamond back.”

She didn’t mention the sex in the garden. It wasn’t something either her father or her brother would want to know.

“You don’t have any paperwork on it?” David asked.

“No. I suppose he could claim I stole it, but then he would have to admit that he had it in the first place. And I did smuggle it into the country.”

“You won’t like prison,” her brother said cheerfully.

“Gee, thanks for your support.”

Blaine shook his head. “I’m not worried about that. Is it possible Nigel and Jonathan are working together?”

“No.” She paused and considered the question. “Maybe. Nigel’s not a happy guy.”

The men exchanged a look she couldn’t read, then David patted her on the shoulder and stood.

“We’ll take care of it,” he said. “Don’t worry. But next time, could you pick somebody who won’t want to crucify you in the press?”

She stuck out her tongue. David laughed. Blaine followed his son to the door.

“Your brother is right,” he told her. “This is manageable. I want you to spend your time learning about stainless steel jewelry.”

“I promise,” she said, collecting her bag.

She walked out after them. Despite the article and the two angry men after her, she felt good. Loved and protected by those who mattered. As to Elizabeth, she could go to hell.

Rebecca celebrated her legal soon-to-be victory with a mocha Frappuccino, no whip, then drove to the studio. She felt inspired and ready to get to work on her stainless steel designs. She’d already done about a dozen sketches, and a couple of the ideas were keepers. She was playing with a signature look. A leaf design that would—

She rounded the corner, heading for the parking garage next to the design center, only to have to stop behind a half dozen police cars parked in front of the building. It took her ten minutes to work her way around them and into the garage. As she parked, she fought against a bad feeling in her stomach. A sense that she wasn’t going to like what she found inside.

Sure enough, she’d barely made it to the first floor of the building when two of the other jewelers came running toward her.

“Somebody broke in and stole all your stuff,” one of the women yelled. “They trashed your space and even broke the bench.”

Rebecca’s stomach flipped, making her regret the Frappuccino, whip or no, and followed the women inside. After she’d shown the police her ID, she was allowed to climb the stairs to her workspace and survey the damage.

Someone had destroyed everything. Her sketches were in ruins, her small safe broken open and everything missing. The only thing still in one piece was her stool, with a note attached. Block letters suggested that she TRY FUCKING ON THIS NEXT TIME .

“Do you know what it means?” one of the LAPD officers asked.

She had a good idea it was connected to Jonathan’s watching her make love with Nigel in her mother’s garden.

She wasn’t afraid. Jonathan’s actions were childish and spiteful. But inside, she felt an emotion she didn’t usually allow herself. Guilt.

Jayne was right—Jonathan had done nothing worse than not be Nigel. She’d cruelly and publicly humiliated him in front of his peers. She’d destroyed what mattered most to him, his reputation, and now he was trying to destroy what mattered most to her. At the lawyer’s office, she’d been annoyed, but now she was simply ashamed.

“Do you know who did this?” the police officer asked.

She nodded slowly. “I doubt he did it himself, but I know who’s behind it.” She gave them Jonathan’s name, his work and home address. “He’s a banker,” she added. “A very rich banker.”

The officer grinned. “My favorite kind.”

Blaine poured more coffee. “We need a plan.”

“What about beating the crap out of both of them?” David asked. “Or at least threatening it. That would work on Jonathan.”

“An interesting idea. But from what I remember about Nigel, he would be happy to take you on.”

David chuckled. “I thought you’d be doing the fighting.”

Blaine grinned, then settled back in his chair.

They were in Blaine’s office in the Worden building. Andrew would handle the legal end of the mess, but David and Blaine had to come up with a way to silence Jonathan and keep Nigel away from Rebecca.

“Nigel and Rebecca have a history,” David said, reaching for his mug. “I warned her about him years ago, but you know Rebecca.”

“Not one to listen.”

“Not on purpose. From what I can tell, their relationship has been volatile. She moved to Italy to get away from him. He followed a few months later. When he wanted to get married, she didn’t, and so on.”

“We can’t let him mess with our baby girl.”

David thought about Nigel. While going after him with a bat and breaking a few bones would be satisfying in the moment, they needed a better plan.

“He’s married to Ariel Cunningham. The wedding was a few months ago.”

Blaine’s expression turned satisfied. “I know Ariel’s father. Eric isn’t a man who likes to be messed with. He’s killed men who have stolen his diamonds. Not that anything’s been proven.”

David wasn’t surprised. The rules were different in a diamond mine. Accidents happened.

“Have you seen the blue diamond?” Blaine asked.

“No.” He would like to, though. Blue diamonds were a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

Blaine pulled a quarter out of his pocket. “Want to flip for who gets to threaten whom? Or should we take care of the bastards together?”

David raised his mug. “I say we work together.”

“I agree.” His father chuckled. “It’s been a long time since I put the fear of God into anyone.”

“Seriously?”

“It was a long time ago. I was young and foolish.” He put the quarter back in his pocket. “Where do you think you got your wanderlust from? Your mother?”

“Good point, Dad. Now who was the last guy you threatened? I want to hear everything.”

But before Blaine could start the story, David’s cell phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hey, sis,” he said. “We were just talking about the men in your life. We—” He paused, listening to her, then hung up. He stared at his father. “The problem just got bigger.”

David knew Nigel well enough to guess he wouldn’t leave town until he’d found what he’d come for. A few calls to local hotels landed him the information that Nigel was registered at Shutters in Santa Monica—less than a mile from Rebecca’s rented condo.

“Got him,” he said, hanging up. “I asked to be put through to his room, and he picked up. So he’s there now.”

“Let’s go.”

They took Blaine’s Bentley, a dark blue monstrosity that had been cared for with the love and attention usually reserved for spoiled lapdogs.

“You’ve got to get a new car,” David said, running his hands along the smooth, butterlike leather. “This car is older than I am.”

“It’s a classic, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“You have to keep a mechanic on call.”

“I keep Raoul on salary so he’s always available if something goes wrong.”

“Which it does. Can you even get tires for this thing?”

“Of course. Your mother wants me to get a Mercedes. She hates this car.” Blaine grinned at him. “It’s a chick magnet at the beach.”

David laughed. “Tell me you’re not cruising PCH looking for hot girls.”

“I’m not, but with this car, I could.”

The valet at the hotel practically whimpered when he saw the shiny car. “S-sir,” he breathed, nearly trembling as he took the keys. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

“Keep it up front,” Blaine told him. “We won’t be long.”

They went into the hotel and walked to a house phone.

“You want to make the call, or should I?” Blaine asked.

“He’ll probably come down for me before he comes down for you,” David said. “I’ll pretend I don’t know there’s any trouble.”

Twenty seconds later, he’d been connected to Nigel’s room.

“Hey, there,” David said, sounding happy to talk to his old friend. “It’s David Worden. I heard you were in town. I’m here at your hotel. Want to grab a drink?”

Nigel hesitated just long enough for David to know he was nervous. “I’m kind of busy right now, David.”

“You can spare half an hour. I’m flying out tonight to”—he paused—“London. I won’t be back for weeks. Come on. I haven’t seen you since I was last at the mine.”

“Okay. Sure. One drink. I’ll be right down.”

David and Blaine split up. David went out onto the rear terrace to make sure Nigel didn’t try to slip out the back way. A minute later, he walked into the open lobby and glanced around. David moved back inside while Blaine joined Nigel.

The tall Australian man looked surprised, and not in a happy way. “You didn’t tell me your father was with you,” he said, then forced a smile. “Blaine. Always good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

They shook hands, then made their way through the lobby and outside, onto the beach.

“I thought we were getting a drink,” Nigel said, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Don’t you want a drink?”

“Too many people,” Blaine said. “Let’s talk privately.”

Nigel swallowed. “I don’t know what Rebecca told you but—”

“She said you were a nasty little weasel,” David told him. “I’d love to beat the shit out of you right here, but that wouldn’t teach you anything, would it?”

Nigel turned back toward the hotel. “I’m not going to listen to this.”

“You can talk to us, or I can talk to Eric,” Blaine said conversationally. “You choose.”

Nigel stopped in midstep.

“Eric and I have known each other for years.” Blaine adjusted the sleeves on his linen jacket. “I remember when all he had was a deed to land no one else wanted and the belief that he would find diamonds. He came to me for a loan. Did you know that?”

Nigel shook his head.

David hadn’t known that either. No wonder Worden’s got first right of refusal on every diamond.

“Everyone told me I was throwing my money away, but I believed in Eric. I gave him the money he needed to start production. You know what happened next. It was one of the largest finds of the last fifty years. Nearly as big as the Argyle mines. Eric and I go way back.”

“Look, Blaine—”

“I’m sorry Elizabeth and I couldn’t make it to the wedding. I understand it was beautiful. But you got our gift?”

“Ah, sure. Yeah. It was great.”

“You’re happily married now, aren’t you?”

Nigel shoved his hands into his front pockets and hung his head. “Dancing with joy.”

“Good. Because I wouldn’t want to have to tell Eric his only daughter has a lying cheat for a husband. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that, either.”

“What do you want?” Nigel asked, sounding resigned.

“Never see Rebecca again,” David said.

“What if she wants to see me?”

“I suggest you run in the other direction.”

“Fair enough.”

“Good,” Blaine said. “You still in the mood for that drink?”

Nigel blinked. “No, thanks. I’ll go to my room and pack.”

“An excellent idea. Oh, and Nigel? Anything you gave Rebecca is hers. Don’t try to get it back. If you do, I’ll start to wonder where you got it in the first place. That will mean asking a lot of questions.”

Nigel nodded once, then headed back to the hotel. David watched him go. “What did she see in him?”

“You’re asking me?”

“What was I thinking?” David’s pleasure at the moment faded. “On to Jonathan?”

Blaine nodded. “Did I tell you I know a man who used to be in Special Forces? He’s now a bodyguard. He also does extra work on the side. Based on what Jonathan just did, I think we should pay him a little visit first.”

“Apparently Jonathan folded just as quickly as Nigel,” Rebecca said as she passed Jayne a carton of tuna salad. They were having their delayed lunch on Rebecca’s balcony. There was takeout from Whole Foods, a chilled chardonnay, and male eye candy from here to Venice Beach.

“He and Blaine have worked together for years,” Jayne said. “It must have been tough for both of them.”

“David was very impressed. He said Dad totally missed his calling. But it’s weird. When the police went to arrest Jonathan, they couldn’t find him at first. It turns out he was in the hospital. He fell down the stairs at his office and broke his leg. Apparently he was really banged up.” She shrugged. “Oh, but that’s not the best part.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Dad knew about the affair Mom had with Jonathan. He actually mentioned it, saying he knew Elizabeth needed that at the time, but Jonathan’s sleeping with me was going too far. David thought Jonathan was going to have a heart attack right there in his hospital room. And he has police guards. He’s been arrested and everything.”

“Your reputation is restored,” Jayne said.

“It’s pretty damned amazing.” Rebecca grinned. “Who would have thought my brother and father could moonlight as enforcers?”

Jayne tried to picture Blaine with a gun and couldn’t. “You should feel good. They’re taking care of you.” One of the pluses of family, she thought wistfully.

“I feel like a character out of Jane Austen,” Rebecca said, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “I’m only a woman. I need a big strong man to take care of me.”

“Yeah, that’s you.”

They laughed.

Rebecca pointed at Jayne’s arm. “Is your cast a different color or am I imagining things?”

“Yes, and it’s smaller. My last one. I get it off in a few days, and then I start physical therapy. I’ll also be going back to work doing light duty.”

“And then you’re leaving. I’m still not happy about that.”

“And the decision is still not about you,” Jayne told her.

“You should be touched that I’ll miss you desperately.”

“The knowledge of your discomfort keeps me up nights.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, then tossed half a roll across the table. “Sometimes you’re a total brat.”

“Part of my charm.”

A faint bell sounded.

Rebecca stood. “Doorbell. I hope that’s the dessert sampler I ordered. Six flavors of crème br?lée. Could you just die, or what?”

“Are you insane? Six desserts?”

“I need a sugar fix.”

Which meant Rebecca would take a single bite of each and try to hand the rest off to Jayne. Just what she needed. Fourteen thousand calories taunting her from her refrigerator.

There was the sound of conversation behind her, but Jayne didn’t bother turning until she recognized a voice she didn’t want to hear.

Elizabeth.

Jayne’s first thought was to go over the balcony, but it was a three-story drop to the sand. Not exactly smart. Besides, she hadn’t done anything wrong. She could face Elizabeth with her head held high—and then run really, really fast to her car.

She rose and walked into the house. Elizabeth stood with her back to the balcony. Rebecca shrugged as if to apologize.

“Who are you speaking with?” Elizabeth asked, then turned. “Oh, it’s you.”

Her tone implied that a cockroach would be more welcome.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Jayne grabbed her purse. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

“Don’t go,” Rebecca said. “Please, don’t go.”

“Jayne should leave,” Elizabeth said. “I want to discuss a family matter. There’s no need for her to be a part of that.”

“But we’re not speaking,” Rebecca whined. “We had a big fight. Remember?”

“This is more important than any small disagreement you and I might have had.”

Jayne made her escape into the hallway, but before she could reach the stairs and the path to freedom, Elizabeth followed her and called her name.

She hesitated. Common sense said to run, but her mother had always pressed her to be polite. She could be civil to Elizabeth for ten or fifteen seconds. Just long enough for the other woman to get off an insult or two.

She turned back. “Yes?”

“I’m here to speak with Rebecca about her brother, but it occurs to me you might have the information I need. I’ve had reports that he’s been seen dining with a young woman twice this week. No one knows who she is, which is troubling. Now, I realize you have your own issues and misunderstandings about how you were treated in the warm embrace of my family. However, I will still ask you, as someone I once considered a friend. Do you know who she is?”

There were a dozen things she could say, Jayne thought. But she was tired of hiding, tired of trying to make things right when they never would be.

She slipped her purse over her shoulder. “It’s me, Elizabeth. David was having dinner with me.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “But that’s not possible. David was on a date. He was seen kissing…” Her hand covered her mouth.

Jayne nodded. “All me. I’m the mystery girl. Rebecca will confirm it.”

“No,” Elizabeth breathed. “Anyone but you.”

Jayne hesitated, but what was there to say? She walked down the three flights of stairs without once looking back.