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The Best of Friends

Page 19

by Susan Mallery


  “Thank you,” she murmured, hoping she wasn’t blushing. She was too old to need her father’s approval, but the words were nice to hear. “I studied in Italy. Milan. David kept telling me he would buy my pieces, but I was afraid he was being too much the big brother.” She’d also been afraid to believe in herself. “Eventually, I gave him a few things, and they sold.”

  “Extremely well,” her father told her. “The mystery helps, of course. Very romantic. Have you thought of announcing yourself to the world?”

  “Not really. I like being anonymous.” She fingered the carving. “Does Mom know?”

  “No. She’s never said anything, and it’s not the sort of information Elizabeth would keep to herself.” He leaned toward her and smiled. “It makes her crazy, you know. She’s constantly pestering David to tell her. She wears several of your pieces and loves them.”

  Rebecca felt both vindicated and bitter. “Until she knows they’re mine.” The years seemed to fall away. She was nine again and feeling hurt and snubbed by her mother. “All those times I told you she didn’t want me. You’d never talk about it. Never admitted I was right. You told me she was my mother and of course she loved me. You were wrong.”

  Blaine’s mouth straightened. The lines on his face seemed to deepen. “I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings. I’m sorry, Rebecca. I was trying to make things better.”

  “Don’t you mean easier on yourself?”

  “That, too. I’m not proud of how I acted. You’re my daughter, and I can’t imagine not loving you. Elizabeth is her own person, with her own rules.”

  “You should leave her.” It was advice Rebecca had given him countless times over the years. “Why do you stay?”

  “I won’t discuss this with you.”

  “I hope you’re discussing it with someone. You deserve better. She tricked you into marriage, and she’s made your life a living hell ever since.”

  “That’s not for you to say.”

  “Fine. Play the martyr. But don’t you ever wish you could be with someone you actually liked? I’m not talking about a great love, but a friend. A woman who bakes cookies and makes you laugh. Someone willing to fly commercial.”

  Blaine was quiet for a minute or so, then he said, “I came here to talk about your work.”

  “Not a very subtle transition.”

  “But one we’ll make all the same. As you know, David has come home to learn about the business side of what we do.”

  “No more roaming the world for precious gems?”

  “Exactly. He’s come up with an intriguing idea. Part of the appeal of our brand is the exclusivity, which is usually defined by our unique selections and price. He suggests we start a second division selling inexpensive pieces through traditional and nontraditional markets.”

  Rebecca wanted to cover her ears and hum. “You’re getting a little technical, Dad. What does it mean?”

  “Have you ever considered working in sterling or stainless steel?”

  “Sterling wouldn’t be that different, but I don’t know anything about stainless. I’ve heard it’s difficult to work with.”

  “But once created, a piece is much stronger.”

  “Sure. Stainless is a serious metal.”

  “We’re looking to feature two or three designers in our new line. One of the places we’d like to sell is QVC. They’re very successful, and they can move merchandise. One thing that seems to help is putting a face to the brand. I suggested you as that face.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to say. Or how to act.”

  “There’s media training for that. I think you’d be a natural. You’re young, beautiful, and talented, and you have passion for your work. But first you’d have to decide if you want to take on the challenge.”

  Be a spokesperson for Worden’s Jewelry? “It would mean coming clean about being Rivalsa.”

  “You’ll have to do that eventually,” Blaine told her. “We can keep it quiet through the negotiations. In the meantime, I’d need you to work up some sketches, maybe a few samples.”

  The thought of being on TV was exciting, but she was more intrigued by the idea of learning to work with a new metal. “I’d lean toward stainless rather than silver,” she said, considering her options. “It’s less traditional.”

  “Like you?”

  She laughed. “Exactly. Stainless and precious gems. I wonder if there’s a problem with settings. Movado does beautiful watches in stainless. They’re elegant and classy.” She rubbed the carving. The gold wasn’t working for her right now. Moving in a new direction could really help her creativity.

  “I’ll do it,” she said. “Give me a couple of weeks to get some ideas on paper.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

  “Just don’t tell Mom.”

  Blaine hesitated. “Elizabeth will have to know at some point.”

  “But not right now. I don’t want her messing with me, and you know she will. I need time, Dad.”

  “All right. I won’t tell her you’re working with us on this. But the longer it takes until she finds out, the less pleasant it’s going to be for everyone.”

  “Something I’m used to.”

  After dinner, Elizabeth finished responding to her many invitations. That dreadful Marjorie Danes had actually sent an invitation through e-mail. So tacky. Elizabeth had refused without bothering to read the particulars. What was next? Wedding announcements via text message? Would it kill people to keep a good supply of embossed card stock and lined envelopes? Her work finished for now, she tapped her pen against her desk as she considered how to deal with the David problem.

  Through subtle probing, she’d discovered that he hadn’t been in touch with any of the women she’d invited to the party. It made no sense. He’d been the one to return to Los Angeles. He’d specifically said he was looking to settle down and get married. She’d offered to help, and he’d agreed. There had been nearly a dozen perfectly eligible women there that night. He had to have been interested in at least one or two. So why wasn’t he asking them out?

  She rose and walked down the hall to Blaine’s study. Blaine had been extremely cheerful at dinner, something she found annoying. He was so chatty when he was happy, and she couldn’t figure out how to shut him up. Well, if he wanted to talk to someone, he could call his son and find out what was going on.

  Blaine sat on one of his leather sofas, reading some kind of report. He looked up as she entered.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said, moving to the sofa opposite his and sitting down. “About David.”

  Blaine removed his reading glasses and set down the report.

  “David hasn’t contacted any of the women who were at the party,” she began. “I’ve checked with them all. The point was to give him a chance to meet suitable young women in a controlled setting. He knew the plan, so it’s not that he wasn’t interested. It’s been over a week. If he doesn’t call soon, they’re going to think he’s never going to call.”

  Blaine looked at her. “I don’t see the problem.”

  “We’re talking about your son’s future. I know you care what happens to him. He needs to get going on this. He’s in his thirties. If he wants to still be alive when his children graduate from high school, time is ticking.”

  “The men in my family live well into their eighties,” Blaine said, reaching for the report. “He’ll go out with the girls he wants to. He’s never lacked for female companionship.”

  “I’m not interested in his having a good time for the weekend. This is about the rest of his life.”

  “David knows what he’s doing.”

  She held in her frustration, when what she really wanted to do was scream and throw whatever was in that stupid folder across the room.

  “Obviously he doesn’t,” she said between clenched teeth. “I want you to talk to him.”

  Blaine sighed and lowered the report. “What should I say?”

  “That he needs to sta
rt asking out these women. What if they meet someone else before he can decide if one of them is right for him?”

  “Then he’ll learn an important lesson.”

  “Don’t you want grandchildren?”

  “Yes, but I’m surprised you do.”

  She bristled. “What a terrible thing to say. Of course I want David to have children.”

  “But not Rebecca?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “What has gotten into you today? At dinner you were so happy, you were practically singing. Now you’re…” Talking back, but she didn’t want to say that. “Now you’re being difficult for no reason.”

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’m not trying to be difficult.”

  “Then imagine what you could accomplish with a little effort,” she snapped. “Why would you think I don’t want grandchildren?”

  “Because they imply a certain age. Something you have never been comfortable with. You’re constantly pointing out that you think Marjorie is an idiot for bragging about her grandchildren and not trying to pass for thirty.”

  “I’m not suggesting she should pass for thirty, but Blaine. Please. The way that woman dresses. So frumpy. And she hasn’t had any surgery. Not even Botox. You can tell just by looking at her. If she doesn’t want to go under the knife, fine, but get a peel or something.”

  “I think she’s lovely.”

  “You’re a man, and you don’t notice that sort of thing. She’s a tedious little woman and not the point of our conversation. What are we going to do about David?”

  “Nothing.”

  She wasn’t even surprised. “I don’t accept that. He obviously needs our help.”

  “He’s busy with work. He has a new project.” There was pride in Blaine’s voice.

  “What is it?” she asked cautiously. “Another store?”

  “No. A different direction. David came to me with the idea of expanding our customer base. We’ll still keep the exclusive line, but also branch out. Offer less-expensive jewelry at different retailers. Maybe on one of the television shopping channels.”

  Elizabeth’s heart stopped. She felt it lurch in her chest, then there was nothing. If she’d been standing, she would have collapsed. As it was, she could only keep telling herself to breathe.

  “You’re not serious,” she said with a gasp.

  “Do you know the largest jewelry retailer in this country is Walmart?”

  “No, and I don’t care.”

  “I do. David’s idea is to offer quality pieces at low prices. We’ll get two or three collections together. One of our designers is interested in working with stainless steel. We’ll do another line in sterling.”

  Metal and silver jewelry? Worden classic pieces sold at the mall? “You can’t,” she said, breathing deeply. “This is impossible. The Worden name means something. You can’t cheapen it by making horrible mass-market items and selling them who knows where.”

  “It’s an excellent way to expand,” Blaine said, motioning to the report. “The numbers are impressive. David’s report—”

  “David came up with this? I don’t believe it. He would never consider this without someone else pointing him in that direction.” She glared at Blaine. “Who was it? You?”

  “No. He gets all the credit.”

  “I doubt that. Was it Rebecca? This has her written all over it? Only she has no interest in the company at all.”

  Who could have talked to David about this? Who could have planted the idea? Someone who knew about cheap jewelry and didn’t mind destroying the family’s good name. Someone with something to prove.

  For a second, no one came to mind. Elizabeth might not have a lot of close friends, but she didn’t have any enemies. At least none who would risk everything to go up against her. Besides, David wouldn’t listen to someone like that. He would have to be tricked by someone who appeared trustworthy. Someone who—

  “Jayne,” she breathed. “This started with Jayne.”

  “Why would you say that?” Blaine asked, which wasn’t the same as denying.

  “I didn’t tell you what happened at the party,” Elizabeth said, still furious at the memory. “She was rude and disrespectful. She implied—well, what she said isn’t important. What matters is that she’s bitter and resentful. She probably has been for years. We’ve helped her beyond what anyone could have expected. We’ve practically been her family. And her way of showing thanks is to try to ruin us.”

  Blaine rubbed his forehead. “You’re being dramatic, Elizabeth. While Jayne may have mentioned the idea to David, it wasn’t done to, as you put it, ruin us. This could be very lucrative. You’ve never objected to increasing our income before.”

  “But not like this,” she said, ignoring the dig about her spending. “She’s probably been planning this for years. I wonder what she’ll do next. Tell all our secrets to some tabloid or sue us for something.”

  “Stop it,” Blaine told her. “Jayne has always been a sweet girl. You’ve gotten your pound of flesh from her, many times over.”

  Elizabeth stared at her husband, bile and loathing boiling in her throat. “What does that mean?”

  “Yes, we helped Jayne. It was the right thing to do, but our reasons were more about trying to get Rebecca raised than taking care of Jayne. She’s been nothing but loyal to you. Don’t go assigning her evil motives after the fact.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s changed. Or maybe she’s always been lurking around, waiting for her chance.”

  “You’re right,” Blaine said, sounding weary. “When her mother died, leaving her completely alone in the world, she came up with the idea that in ten or twelve years she would have the chance to influence David into selling inexpensive jewelry. She’s too smart for us, Elizabeth. What are we going to do to protect ourselves?”

  Embarrassment joined anger. Elizabeth stood and smoothed down the front of her silk blouse. “Mock me, Blaine. I know how you love to make me feel bad. A new business venture and humiliating your wife. This has been a good evening for you.”

  He rose. “I’m sorry. That isn’t what I meant. I was trying to point out that you’re making Jayne the enemy, and she hasn’t earned that.” He reached out to touch her.

  She moved away. If they had still been sleeping in the same room, she would have thrown him out.

  “Do you love me?” he asked.

  “What a ridiculous question. With everything we have going on, right now, I don’t have time for this, Blaine.”

  “I take it that’s a no.”

  He spoke lightly, as if they were playing. Elizabeth didn’t know what he wanted from her, and she didn’t care. Her head hurt, she was still angry, and the David problem hadn’t been solved. Just as frustrating, now she had to deal with Jayne, and nothing about that would be pleasant.

  “I’m your wife,” she said. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “You’d think it would be.”

  Tiresome man, she thought as she left his study.

  One problem at a time, she told herself. She would deal with Jayne, and then she would talk to David. She would get him to see reason, both on the jewelry and on going out with one of the women she’d chosen for him. He’d always needed a firm hand to guide him. Someone to show him the way. If Blaine wouldn’t help, she would work around him. She’d been doing it for years.

  Jayne parked in her space at her condo, then turned off her car and climbed out. Her new cast, a cheerful yellow, was the last one she would need, according to the doctor she’d seen that morning. It would come off in ten days, allowing her to return to light duty at work for the last four weeks before she left for Dallas. She’d been given some simple exercises to do at home and would start physical therapy as soon as the cast came off.

  Healing was good, she thought as she let herself into her condo. The swelling had gone down, so this cast was more comfortable than the one before. Once it was off, she wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally hitting herself with it or kee
ping it dry in the shower—a daily challenge.

  She’d barely put down her purse when there was a knock at the door. Hoping for David, but willing to accept a kid selling cookie dough or wrapping paper, she pulled it open. Then wished she hadn’t.

  Elizabeth stood there, looking furious enough to breathe fire. Jayne involuntarily took a step back.

  “You seem surprised,” Elizabeth said, stepping past her and entering the condo. “No doubt you hoped to slip away unnoticed. But I’ve learned what you’ve been up to, and if you think you’re going to get away with it, you don’t know me at all.”

  Discussing her sexual relationship with Elizabeth’s son was not her idea of a good time, Jayne thought, closing the door. What was she supposed to say? That she knew it was meaningless, but she was willing to accept a short-term fling with David because he was just so much fun? That she loved the way he laughed and teased, but she was more impressed by his kindness and compassion. That he was smart but not scary smart? She knew she wouldn’t be mentioning that he was practically a god in bed.

  “Elizabeth—”

  “How dare you?” the other woman demanded, speaking quickly, her voice laced with fury and resentment. “When I think of all the years you’ve been working against us, all the things you’ve done that I don’t know about. How you’ve hurt all of us.”

  Jayne held up her hands in the shape of a T. “What are you talking about?” Sleeping with David hardly hurt anyone else. It sure didn’t hurt him.

  “Your plan to destroy us all. Even your precious Rebecca won’t appreciate what you’ve done.”

  Rebecca already knew, Jayne thought, more confused.

  “We have a proud family tradition. Worden’s Jewelry is an American icon. Women dream of being able to buy just one piece and then pass it on to their daughters. We are an institution, and we will not become some cheap wholesale business.”

  “Oh,” Jayne said, relieved they weren’t going to be talking about her sex life. “David told you about the new designs and the plans to expand.”

  “I heard all about it. Disgusting. This is your fault. I know better than to ask you to fix it. You may think you’ve influenced my son, but you’re wrong. He’s going to need approval to get this started, and that isn’t going to happen.”

 

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