Extracto
One
âÈêNo gold-digging for meâÈö I take diamonds! We may be off the gold standard someday.âÈë
âÈ'Mae West
THERE WERE TWO TYPES of people, Jayne Scott told herself as she hurried from the waiting car toward the international terminal at the Los Angeles airport. Those who skated through life never spilling coffee on themselves, or tripping, or showing up at the wrong time for the wrong event. And the rest of the world. As she dabbed at the growing damp spot on her shirt, left by her grande nonfat latte, Jayne knew exactly into which camp she fell.
She scanned the crowded arrivals area, ignoring the dozens of different languages, the happy families reuniting, the couples in love. Instead, she looked for a tall, beautiful blonde with an excessive amount of luggage and a half dozen or so minions. Seconds later she spotted two porters with overflowing luggage carts, a burly guy with a briefcase chained to his wrist, and a head-turning woman wearing leather pants and a leopard duster. Rebecca always did like to make an entrance.
Jayne waited until her friend spotted her, then waved.
âÈêIâÈçm late,âÈë Rebecca called, then hurried forward and hugged her. âÈêI got stuck in customs. They thought I was a jewel thief. DonâÈçt you love that?âÈë
âÈêAnyone offer to do a strip search?âÈë Jayne asked, hugging her back and inhaling a custom-blended floral perfume.
Rebecca straightened and wrinkled her nose. âÈêNo, and I didnâÈçt want anyone to.âÈë
âÈêNo one cute enough?âÈë
âÈêPretty much. Jayne, this is Hans, my bodyguard.âÈë
The burly guy barely made eye contact before returning to scanning the crowd.
Jayne glanced at the briefcase in his hand. âÈêYou couldnâÈçt use a courier service like everyone else?âÈë she asked, leading the way to the waiting limo. âÈêYou had to bring them yourself?âÈë
âÈêThatâÈçs what the customs people said. They lack imagination.âÈë
âÈêOr maybe they were overwhelmed by seeing a couple million in loose gemstones.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm a jewelry designer. ItâÈçs what I do.âÈë
âÈêIf you were a ship builder, would you travel with a three-ton hull?âÈë
âÈêOf course not. Ships are so last year,âÈë Rebecca said, linking arms with Jayne. âÈêThanks for coming to meet me. IâÈçve missed you.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçve missed you, too.âÈë
They walked out to the waiting limo that Jayne had arranged. SheâÈçd known better than to bring her own car. Not only did Rebecca prefer to travel in style, there was no way all the luggage would fit in JayneâÈçs Jetta.
Rebecca stared at the vehicle with approval. âÈêItâÈçs a stretch limo.âÈë
âÈêI know you love them.âÈë
âÈêWait until you see the place I rented in Santa Monica! It has a view of the ocean and everything. IâÈçll have to get a car, of course. Everyone needs a car in L.A.âÈë
âÈêYou could just hire the limo permanently. It could go with you everywhere.âÈë
Rebecca slid in the backseat, then looked up at her. âÈêNow youâÈçre mocking me.âÈë
âÈêI canâÈçt help myself.âÈë Jayne settled next to her. âÈêDo you want to talk about your mother now or later?âÈë
âÈêHow about never?âÈë
âÈêSheâÈçs the reason youâÈçre back.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçve returned to announce myself,âÈë Rebecca said, leaning back in the leather seat. âÈêTo reintroduce myself to society after a ten-year absence.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre here to be a pain in her ass.âÈë
âÈêThat, too.âÈë
âÈêRearranging your life to annoy your mother is expected at thirteen. At twenty-nine itâÈçs just kind of sad.âÈë
Rebecca turned to her. âÈêTragedy keeps my art fresh.âÈë
âÈêI see youâÈçre still dramatic.âÈë
âÈêI see youâÈçre still dressing badly.âÈë
Jayne glanced down at the faded magenta scrub shirt she wore, now decorated by the latte stain. âÈêI came straight from work.âÈë
âÈêMaybe something more tailored?âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm a nurse, Rebecca. This is what I wear.âÈë
Rebecca gave a little sniff, then pulled a bottle of water out of her carry-on.
She was the only person Jayne knew who could fly from Italy to L.A. and look ready to step into a photo shoot. Carefully highlighted blond hair hung past her shoulders in layered curls. Her skin was flawless, her lips full, and gold-and-diamond earrings, her own design, glittered as she moved.
Hans finished supervising the luggage being loaded into the trunk, then walked to the front passenger seat and slid in next to the driver.
âÈêWhat about a workspace?âÈë Jayne asked. âÈêYouâÈçre not going to be making jewelry at the condo you rented, are you?âÈë
Rebecca laughed. âÈêI think the landlord would object to me melting gold in my living room. IâÈçm going to look at a place in an industrial park.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre not the industrial-park type.âÈë
âÈêPeople grow and change, Jayne. I have.âÈë
Jayne ignored the smug smile. âÈêIs this where I remind you that youâÈçre back in L.A. to piss off your mother?âÈë
âÈêNot if you love me. Speaking of the socially correct Mrs. Worden, how is Elizabeth?âÈë
âÈêStuck in France.âÈë
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. âÈêSeriously? Did the private jet develop mechanical trouble? Are my parents being forced to fly commercial?âÈë
âÈêNothing that dramatic. ThereâÈçs fog. She and Blaine are delayed a few hours.âÈë Jayne glanced at her watch. âÈêWhich means I asked the driver to drop me off at my place. I need to head to your parentsâÈç house.âÈë
âÈêWhy?âÈë
âÈêI have to open it up for David.âÈë
Jayne was careful to keep looking at Rebecca as she spoke. Her friend might be self-absorbed, but she wasnâÈçt stupid. Still, after nearly twelve years of keeping her secret, Jayne was an expert at making sure nothing ever showed.
It was foolish, really. One of those freak things that happen every now and thenâÈ'like plane-grounding fog in France. Twelve years ago, at the age of sixteen, Jayne had gone on vacation with the Worden family. TheyâÈçd spent the holidays at an exclusive resort in the Bahamas. The hotel had been fabulous, the weather perfect, but what Jayne remembered most was how sheâÈçd taken one look at David, RebeccaâÈçs older brother, and fallen madly and completely in love.
Well, as completely as a sixteen-year-old could.
Since then, sheâÈçd seen him every couple of years. The conversations had been casual and friendly. Siblinglike. Because thatâÈçs how David saw her. As a sister.
Having him ignore her would have been better. At least then she could have held on to the fantasy that one day he would look up, finally notice her, and utter the classic, âÈêMs. Scott, youâÈçre beautiful.âÈë He didnâÈçt even need to think she was beautiful, although it would be a nice little bonus. But no, he thought of her as a sister.
SheâÈçd overheard the damning truth about eight years ago, at a lovely Worden Christmas celebration. The tasteful party had included a few hundred of Elizabeth and BlaineâÈçs closest friends. David had flown home, and Jayne had been all quivery at the thought of seeing him again.
SheâÈçd been supervising the catering staff, checking that everyone had enough stuffed puffs or caviar when sheâÈçd heard DavidâÈçs girlfriend du jour asking who Jayne was.
âÈêA friend of the family,âÈë he said easily. âÈêHas been for years. SheâÈçs nice. Sort of a second sister, without being a pain in the ass.âÈë
And that had been that.
SheâÈçd consoled herself with the knowledge that at least heâÈçd had good things to say about her. While âÈênot a pain in the assâÈë wasnâÈçt anything she wanted on her tombstone, it was nice. In a dismissive, IâÈçve-barely-noticed-you kind of way.
Now in the back of the limo, she reminded herself it was better this way. It was one thing for her to be friends with Rebecca and an unpaid part-time assistant to Elizabeth. It was quite another to get involved with the heirâÈö or, as Rebecca loved to call him, the âÈêyoung prince.âÈë
Over time Jayne had accepted that her feelings were little more than an intense crush. But knowing they were irrational, and based on nothing but her personal vision of what she wanted David to be, didnâÈçt make her knees tremble any less when he was around.
âÈêCarmine can do it,âÈë Rebecca said.
Carmine was the WordensâÈç housekeeper.
âÈêCarmine is visiting her daughter in Chicago.âÈë
âÈêLet me guessâÈö Mother called and asked for your help.âÈë
âÈêA few hours ago. She had planned to be back this morning, but fate intervened.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre choosing her over me?âÈë
âÈêOn nearly a daily basis.âÈë
Rebecca pouted. âÈêYouâÈçre my best friend. You canâÈçt do what she says. You have to take my side.âÈë
âÈêItâÈçs an hour,âÈë Jayne said calmly, used to RebeccaâÈçs tantrums and mostly immune to the guilt. âÈêIâÈçll be by later. Besides, if I donâÈçt do what Elizabeth asks, sheâÈçll want to know why. If she starts asking questions, she might find out youâÈçre back before you want her to.âÈë
âÈêI hate it when you use logic on me.âÈë
âÈêYes, I know.âÈë
âÈêFine. Go be dutiful. One of us should be. ItâÈçs a family thing.âÈë
Jayne didnâÈçt bother pointing out she wasnâÈçt family. Not in any way that mattered, at least from their perspective. From hers, the Wordens were the closest thing she had to relatives, which made her relationship with all of them complicated.
The driver pulled off the freeway. Rebecca looked out the window. âÈêYou still live in your condo?âÈë
âÈêWe canâÈçt all have a villa in Milan.âÈë
âÈêIt wasnâÈçt a villa, exactly.âÈë
Jayne had seen RebeccaâÈçs Italian house a few times. It was pretty damned fabulous, with seventeenth-century tile and the original stained-glass windows. âÈêIt was amazing.âÈë
Rebecca shrugged. âÈêI never did learn enough Italian to fit in with the locals. Your place is nice. Homey.âÈë
âÈêI like it.âÈë The condo was close to work, affordable, and a safe haven from the craziness of the Worden world.
The limo pulled up in front of the multistory building. Before opening the door, Jayne hugged her friend. âÈêIâÈçll be by later.âÈë
Rebecca nodded. âÈêYou have the address?âÈë
âÈêYou e-mailed it to me about forty times.âÈë
âÈêWeâÈçll have dinner?âÈë
âÈêYes, and drink wine and tell lies about boys. Here.âÈë Jayne pulled the current issue of OK! magazine out of her handbag. âÈêI bought this for you.âÈë
Rebecca took it and hugged her. âÈêYouâÈçre so sweet. All I brought you is a pair of earrings I made.âÈë
Which was why, after all this time, they were still friends, Jayne thought, knowing that in RebeccaâÈçs mind, the cheap magazine and the no-doubt-fabulously-expensive earrings were on par. Because she and Rebecca were freakishly addicted to celebrity gossip, and the magazine showed Jayne cared.
âÈêIâÈçll see you later,âÈë Jayne said, hugging her. âÈêWelcome home.âÈë
âÈêRearrange the pictures on the mantel,âÈë Rebecca called after her. âÈêIt will make my mother crazy.âÈë
âÈêIf I have time.âÈë
Jayne waved, then hurried to her condo in the back of the building. She had less than an hour to shower, change, and get over to the Worden house in Beverly Hills. While sheâÈçd been willing to pick up Rebecca in her scrubs, her crush was powerful enough that she wasnâÈçt willing to face David in shapeless hospital wear and no makeup.
She raced to unlock the front door and stepped inside. Bright light flooded the spacious room where her comfy IKEA sofa acted as a divider between the living and eating areas. There was a kitchen around the corner to the left and a hallway to the right, leading to the bedroom and bath.
What she liked best about the condo was the courtyard in back. It was nearly as big as the whole unit, with Mexican pavers and potted plants. She could sit out there in the morning and have her coffee. She often ate dinner at the glass-topped patio table. There was a small barbecue and a little fountain in the corner. It was her haven.
But there was no time to enjoy it now, she thought as she flew into the bedroom, tearing off clothes as she went. After plugging in her electric curlers, she brushed out her long brown hair and quickly rolled it on the curlers. She replaced her plain white bra with a lace one that pushed her breasts together and up in a way that made the most of what little she had, then washed her face and applied a tinted moisturizer. She used eye shadow, mascara, and blush.
SheâÈçd spent more time than she wanted to admit planning what she was going to wear. A dress seemed too fancy and obvious, while jeans were justâÈö jeans. It was spring in L.A., which meant high seventies and clear skies. She pulled on a pair of tailored white pants and a fitted cotton shirt with a scoop neck. After taking out the curlers, she finger-combed her hair, sprayed the life out of it with hairsprayâÈ'hoping the curls would last more than six minutesâÈ'then ran back toward the front door. She had less than thirty minutes to make it to Beverly Hills.
Blaine WordenâÈçs great-great-great-grandfather had established WordenâÈçs Jewelry back in the 1800s in New York. BlaineâÈçs grandfather, excited by the fledgling movie business, had moved the family and the company headquarters to Los Angeles in the 1920s. HeâÈçd bought in Beverly Hills when land was cheap and houses were built to be the size of airplane hangars. Over the years the mansion had been remodeled and some of the land had been sold off, but the estate was still one of the largest and most elegant in town.
Jayne hit the remote control on the passengerâÈçs-side visor, then waited for the big wrought-iron gates to swing open. She sped up to the main house, jumped out, and ran to the front door.
Her concern was sillyâÈ'she knew that. Carmine would have taken care of everything before she left. It wasnâÈçt as if David was expecting a marching band and floats to announce his return to the family home. But Elizabeth had asked, and JayneâÈö well, Jayne didnâÈçt mind welcoming David home.
SheâÈçd seen him only a couple of times in the past few years. Before each meeting sheâÈçd desperately hoped heâÈçd gotten old or fat or had grown an unattractive hump on his back. If that wasnâÈçt possible, she waited desperately for her crush to fade. She was twenty-eightâÈ'a crush on her best friendâÈçs brother was no longer cute.
But every time she saw him, her heart pounded, her knees went weak, and she found herself torn between wanting to bolt for cover and beg him to take her, just one time, up against the wall. Okay, she thought as she hurried up the steps and opened the front door. Against the wall would be tacky and was probably one of those positions that only looked sexy in movies. But she wouldnâÈçt turn down a nice, slow, private seduction.
Instead, David was charming, friendly, and so obviously uninterested in her that she was left feeling foolish. It was hard to hope in the face of constant reality, but Jayne did her best.
She punched in the alarm code, then checked her watch. David was due any minute. She scanned the foyer, with its marble floors, two-story ceiling, crystal chandelier, and custom furniture, then frowned when she saw that the large, round table in the middle of the department storeâÈ'size space was empty. Elizabeth always put flowers there. Well, technically Elizabeth told Carmine, who always put flowers there, but still. HadnâÈçt the flowers been delivered?
âÈêNo one was here,âÈë she said aloud. She dropped her purse onto the chair by the wall, then raced down the hallway, through the kitchen, past the utility roomâÈ'which was the size of her entire condoâÈ'to the back door.
Sure enough, a gorgeous spray of flowers sat on the wide rear step. It was done in ElizabethâÈçs signature whiteâÈ'a combination of Casablanca lilies, calla lilies, dendrodium orchids, and roses.
Jayne bent down to grab it and nearly lost her balance. Not only was the glass vase wet from being overfilled with water, five or six hundred dollarsâÈç worth of flowers was damned heavy. She tried again and got the arrangement off the pavers, then stood. Her hands slipped a little. She swore. Dropping the vase wasnâÈçt an option.
She made her way through the house to the foyer, where a series of events conspired to ruin her day.
First, she heard someone put a key in the front door. Trying to get rid of the armful of flowers before David walked in, she started to runâÈö only to catch the side of her right foot on the leg of a small, curved sofa. She was moving too fast to stop her forward momentum, and scrambling only caused her to skid like a cartoon character. Then her fingers slipped on the wet glass of the vase. She threw herself forward in an effort to keep it from falling.
The vase went up, the flowers rained down, and Jayne was caught in the middle. She stared helplessly at the soaring glass vase. Even as cold water and flowers drenched her, her only thought was to keep the vase from hitting the marble floor and shattering. She reached up and grabbed it. The unexpected weight caused her to stagger back, where her heel came down on a lily stem. Her foot shot out from under her, and she fell, just as David walked into the house. She landed on her hip and her left wrist. The unfortunate cracking sound didnâÈçt come from the glassâÈö it came from her.
David Worden, tall, handsome, blond, and blue-eyed, immediately rushed to her side. âÈêJayne? Is that you? Are you all right?âÈë
She sat in a puddle of water, wet flowers and greenery hanging off her, the picture of humiliation. If only she could believe the pounding in her chest was a result of her fall and not his crouching next to her, looking all concerned and drool-worthy. Even the sharp pain in her wrist, regrettable proof that sheâÈçd probably snapped a bone, wasnâÈçt enough to jolt her out of her longing for up-against-the-wall sex.
So much for being over her crush, she thought sadly as he took the vase from her arms. So much for the sophisticated first impression sheâÈçd planned. She probably looked like a drowned rat.
âÈêWhere does it hurt?âÈë he asked.
âÈêMy wrist. I think itâÈçs broken.âÈë
âÈêThen weâÈçd better get you to the hospital,âÈë he said, helping her to her feet. âÈêCan you walk?âÈë
âÈêItâÈçs my arm, not my leg.âÈë
âÈêYou have wet flowers in your hair. Do you really think attitude plays well with that look?âÈë
Despite her humiliation and the pain and the fact that she would never be able to look David in the eye again, she smiled. âÈêAttitude is all I have going for me right now.âÈë
âÈêRebecca would tell you to work your strengths.âÈë He pulled a couple of flowers out of her hair, then put his arm around her. âÈêLetâÈçs go get you X-rayed.âÈë
Rebecca waited while the limo driver carried in all the luggage sheâÈçd brought, but her attention was on Hans. The security expert had disappeared into the second bedroom of her rented space to check out the safe sheâÈçd purchased. Only after heâÈçd declared it acceptable would she get possession of her little beauties.
The driver finished, and Rebecca walked down the short hall to the spacious spare bedroom.
As her landlord had promised, it was prepared for guests. A queen-size bed sat opposite a sliding-glass window with a view of the beach and ocean. There was a flat-screen TV on the wall, a private bath, and a big closet. And sitting right in the middle of that closet was a black 980-pound safe.
âÈêIt will survive two and half hours at over twelve hundred degrees,âÈë she said, leaning against the doorframe. âÈêThere are twenty-six locking bolts securing the door and a drill-proof steal plate.âÈë
âÈêI know,âÈë Hans said in his lightly accented voice. âÈêI read the specs.âÈë He closed the door and locked it. âÈêTell me the combination.âÈë
She smiled. âÈêI might be a natural blonde, but IâÈçm not stupid. No one knows that combination but me.âÈë
One dark eyebrow raised. âÈêVery good. I give you your diamonds now.âÈë
âÈêLucky me.âÈë
He unlocked the briefcase from his wrist and set it on the bed. Rebecca moved closer as he opened the case and unfastened the protective covering. Inside, 387 diamonds glittered and winked in the afternoon light. Her costâÈ'three million. Retail value once she set them in jewelryâÈ'about twelve million.
A few of the diamonds were white, but most of them were colored. They ranged from pale yellow to champagne to cognac to the rare dark pink stones.
âÈêVery nice,âÈë Hans said.
âÈêThank you.âÈë
She pulled her inventory list and her triplet loupe out of her purse, then set the bag on the bed. Hans also had an inventory list and a loupe. Together they went over each diamond, confirming it was exactly the same as it had been before theyâÈçd left Italy. When they were finished, they signed each otherâÈçs copy of the paperwork and she put the diamonds in the safe. Hans made a call to the insurance company, letting them know the diamonds were back in her possession.
âÈêGreat doing business with you,âÈë Rebecca said. âÈêThe limo driver will take you wherever you want to go.âÈë
Hans put his jewelerâÈçs loupe back into his jacket pocket, then smiled. âÈêOr I could stay.âÈë He moved toward her. âÈêJust for an hour.âÈë
He was big and handsome and probably knew what he was doing, and she couldnâÈçt have been less interested in an afternoon quickie with a stranger. Must be jet lag, she told herself. It couldnâÈçt be for any other reason.
âÈêA thrilling offer,âÈë she said with a smile. âÈêTempting, but no.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre sure?âÈë
âÈêYes.âÈë
He shrugged as if to say the decision was incredibly stupid on her part, then left. When sheâÈçd locked the front door behind him, she returned to explore the rest of the condo.
There was a master suite, with a balcony and west-facing view of the Pacific; a big living room with the same view as the master; and a kitchen she would use only to store leftovers. An envelope from the car rental company sat on the counter. She opened it and withdrew the keys. A note told her which underground parking space held her car, information she would need when she went out to get something to eat. Or maybe she and Jayne could walk down to one of the oceanfront restaurants for an early dinner.
Rebecca went into the master to deal with her luggage. Hans had carried the diamonds, because they were the most valuable, but she had the settings with her, and a little something Hans and the insurance company didnâÈçt know about.
She opened her carry-on and pulled out several boxes of platinum settings that sheâÈçd designed over the past year. One-of-a-kind pieces waiting for her beautiful diamonds to complete the looks. She removed her small laptop, a book, the OK! magazine Jayne had bought her, and a six-pack of Oreo cookies. When the bag was seemingly empty, she felt around at the bottom until she found a small plastic snap partially concealed by a fold in the lining. She pulled it free and removed her treasure from its hiding place.
Three layers of soft cloth protected the uncommon stone. She unwrapped it, letting it fall onto her palm where it winked in the afternoon light. Six carats of perfect blue diamond.
Blue diamonds were so rare, most jewelers never saw one. Rebecca remembered her father taking her to the Smithsonian years ago, where sheâÈçd seen the famous Hope diamond. But that stone, while large, had been a grayish-blue. This one was deep ocean blue. Flawless. Precious.
Nigel had given it to her six months ago, when heâÈçd flown to Milan to tell her he was getting married. But not to her.
Despite her claims of independence, her need to go it alone, she had truly been defined by two people in her lifeâÈ'her mother and Nigel. She had loved othersâÈ'her father, David, and, of course, Jayne. SheâÈçd hated her mother, and sheâÈçd lived through every emotion possible with Nigel. In the end, heâÈçd chosen someone else.
SheâÈçd told herself that it didnâÈçt matter, that she was too powerful for him, too determined. That he had never respected her abilities, her intelligence, or her drive, and that heâÈçd been threatened by her success. All of which was true, but didnâÈçt take away the ache inside. For ten years heâÈçd been the center of her universe, and now, without him, the world was a darker place. He hadnâÈçt wanted her. Shades of the conversation sheâÈçd overheard when sheâÈçd been seven. Her mother complaining to her friends that Rebecca had been an accidentâÈ'one sheâÈçd always regretted. At least NigelâÈçs dismissal had been kind.
The diamond was a hell of a consolation prize. Natural blue diamonds were nearly impossible to value, and this one was perfect. A small, cold piece of rock sheâÈçd been given instead of a manâÈçs heart. Only time would tell if sheâÈçd gotten a good deal.
She rewrapped the diamond in the cloth and put it back in her carry-on bag. The bag went in the safe, where it would stay until she decided what she was going to do with it.
SheâÈçd barely closed the door and made sure it was secure when her cell phone rang. She recognized DavidâÈçs number on the small screen.
âÈêAre you back?âÈë she asked by way of greeting. âÈêDid Mom arrange a band, or did you have to make do with a small plaque?âÈë
âÈêNice. Very loving and supportive.âÈë
âÈêThe young prince returns home. All is well in the kingdom.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm not the young prince anymore.âÈë
She grinned. âÈêI know, but âÈæthe rapidly aging princeâÈç doesnâÈçt have the same ring to it.âÈë
He chuckled. âÈêYouâÈçre pushing thirty, kid.âÈë
âÈêYou got there first.âÈë She had planned to say more, then heard a loudspeaker in the background. âÈêWhere are you? Still at the airport?âÈë
âÈêNo.âÈë He hesitated. âÈêAt the hospital.âÈë
Her humor faded. âÈêWhat? Are you okay? What happened?âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm fine. ItâÈçs not me, itâÈçs Jayne. She had an accident.âÈë
RebeccaâÈçs stomach tightened as her whole body went cold. Panic surged. âÈêIs she all right?âÈë
âÈêSheâÈçs going to be fine. She broke her wrist. TheyâÈçre setting it now. SheâÈçll be released in a couple of hours. I know you two are tight, so I wanted to let you know.âÈë
âÈêBroke her wrist? How?âÈë she asked, then thought about JayneâÈçs errand to her parentsâÈç house. âÈêThis is about you, isnâÈçt it? This has âÈæyoung princeâÈç written all over it.âÈë
He winced. âÈêIt wasnâÈçt my fault. She was carrying a big vase of flowers. I wasnâÈçt there at the beginning, so I donâÈçt know how it started. Apparently she slipped, and when she fell, she broke her wrist.âÈë
Some of the panic eased. âÈêI am so going to kill you. Jayne is my friend. How could you hurt her?âÈë
âÈêI didnâÈçt hurt her. It was an accident.âÈë
âÈêIt was your fault.âÈë
âÈêHey,âÈë he said, sounding both amused and frustrated. âÈêI donâÈçt like this, either. And before you go off on me, IâÈçll remind you that I have a pass for the rest of my life. LetâÈçs not forget that, little sister.âÈë
He was rightâÈ'ten years ago sheâÈçd promised him she would never get mad at him again. âÈêThis is different. This is about Jayne.âÈë She walked to the master bedroom and dug a notepad out of her purse. âÈêWhat hospital? IâÈçm coming right over. And donâÈçt for a minute plan on leaving until I get there and say you can.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre turning into Mom. You know that, right?âÈë
âÈêDonâÈçt think you can distract me, David. YouâÈçre in big trouble. Now stay with Jayne and make sure sheâÈçs all right. IâÈçll be there as fast as I can.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçll alert the media.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre trying to be funny, and it wonâÈçt work.âÈë She put her purse over her shoulder and walked to the kitchen, where she grabbed her car keys.
âÈêIâÈçm trying to tell you everything is fine,âÈë he said. âÈêOf course IâÈçll stay with her until you get here. IâÈçve always liked Jayne.âÈë
âÈêOh, please. YouâÈçve never even had a conversation with her.âÈë She walked out of the condo and locked the door behind her.
âÈêSure I have. SheâÈçs funny.âÈë
âÈêDonâÈçt for a moment think you can make time with my best friend. Just stay put and donâÈçt make trouble.âÈë
âÈêPromise. Jayne and I will be here, waiting for you, planning our elopement.âÈë
âÈêYouâÈçre so not her type.âÈë
âÈêThereâÈçs a challenge.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm hanging up now.âÈë
Âû 2010 Susan Macias Redmond
