“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.
&
nbsp; “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 brûlée. 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.
Sixteen
DAVID RETURNED FROM A very fruitful meeting with marketing only to find his mother pacing in his office. She saw him before he could make his escape. Talk about bad timing.
“I need to speak with you,” she said. “It’s important.”
The need to bolt increased, but running wasn’t an option. He shut the door, then motioned to the corner, where two sofas had been set up.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
Elizabeth shook her head. She moved to the sofas but didn’t sit down. David noticed her normally sleek blond hair seemed mussed somehow. Her lipstick had faded, and there was a smudge of mascara under her left eye.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“No, I’m not. Something terrible has happened.”
As he’d just seen his father in the meeting, he knew it wasn’t him. “Rebecca?” he asked, knowing it couldn’t be. Elizabeth would hardly be so… distraught over her daughter.
Elizabeth set her small handbag on the coffee table and laced her fingers together in front of her waist. She stared at him intently.
“Is it true?” she asked. “Are you seeing Jayne? Dating Jayne? Are you together?”
Hot damn. Jayne had finally told the old lady. Good for her, he thought, knowing this meant she was taking them seriously.
“I am.”
“You seem very happy about it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. “Jayne’s amazing. Smart and funny. She cares about people, and she’s incredibly self-aware. There aren’t any games with her. I know where I stand.”
“Which all sounds very laudable, but isn’t the point. How is this possible? When did you start going out with her? How could she have betrayed me this way?”
He knew what his mother meant, but it seemed smarter to put her on the defensive. “Gee, thanks, Mom. Betrayed you? Are you saying, Jayne doesn’t have high enough standards?”
Elizabeth’s expression turned cool. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. Jayne seeing you? A totally unacceptable situation. You’re a Worden. You have a family tradition to uphold. I can’t imagine how either of you let this happen.” She relaxed her arms to her sides. “How long has this been going on? Are you sleeping together?”
He would give her full points for recovering quickly, he thought grimly. So much for leading the conversation.
“My sex life isn’t your business.”
“It is when it concerns your future.” She pressed her lips together. “Dammit, David. You should know better. I’ve given you the opportunity to meet appropriate women. Accomplished and beautiful single women who would like nothing better than to fall in love with you. But could you see one of them? Ask one of them out? Of course not. And Jayne, of all people.”
“Why do you s
ay it like that? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing, if you were a junior accountant from the Valley. You’re a man, so I don’t expect you to understand, but Jayne will do anything to get ahead. I should have realized it before.”
“Now you’re scaring me,” he muttered, thinking his mother was going over to the dark side.
“She’s doing this on purpose. Throwing herself at you. Telling you her sad little story and getting you to feel sorry for her.”
“I feel a lot of things for Jayne, but I don’t feel sorry for her. Mom, have you ever had a conversation with Jayne? Not just handing out a to-do list or instructions, but a real conversation? Do you know what she does with her life?”
“What? Of course I do. She’s some kind of nurse. A job she got after college, which we paid for, I might add. Jayne has been fortunate to have me in her life, and here she is repaying me with this.” Elizabeth moved toward him.
“You have to listen to me, David. You’re not thinking, or if you are, it’s not with your brain. Jayne Scott will do anything to trap you. She’ll lie, deceive, and very possibly trap you by getting pregnant.”
“She’s nothing like you.”
Elizabeth narrowed her gaze. “I see you’re still trying to hurt me. Fine. Go ahead. Be disrespectful. Dig in the knife. But while you’re doing it, know that no one will ever love you as much as I do. No one will ever care about you like I do. Do you think Jayne worries about you and your future? Do you honestly think she wouldn’t love to give up her crappy little apartment for life with you?”
Frustration built inside of him. It shouldn’t have to be like this, he thought grimly. “You’re wrong about her. She’s so determined to get away from this damned family that she’s moving halfway across the country. If she was so enamored with all things Worden, why would she do that?”
“It’s all part of her plan to get your attention and sympathy.”
Weariness tugged at him. He didn’t like drawing a line in the sand—it often made things worse rather than better. But he wasn’t going to let Elizabeth run his life.
“Mother, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I respect that you’re genuinely concerned about me, but there is no way in hell you’re coming between Jayne and me. I’ll keep seeing her, and you will stay out of our way.”
The Best of Friends Page 21