“I like the culling process.”
“You’re thirty-two,” Elizabeth said. “It’s time to settle down. If you don’t get married in the next couple of years, people are going to think there’s something wrong with you.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” David mumbled, then nodded slowly. “I’m back to make changes, start working your end of the business, Dad. Buy a house, get a wife. Or is it get a house and buy a wife? I could always go on the Internet. Have someone sent next-day air.”
“Oh, David.” Elizabeth sighed.
Blaine grinned and clinked glasses with his son.
Men, Elizabeth thought grimly. Without a firm, controlling hand, they could muck up everything.
By eight the next morning, Jayne was exhausted. Despite her best efforts in Rebecca’s airy guest room, she hadn’t been able to sleep. The painkillers had only taken the edge off the throbbing. Every time she’d nearly drifted off, a new and uncomfortable twinge had jerked her back to consciousness. She was groggy, achy, and desperate to be back in her own place. Which meant waiting for Rebecca to wake up. Usually not a problem, although Jayne was desperate to be home sooner rather than later. She thought about calling a cab, but doubted she would be able to sneak out.
She walked into the living room and was surprised to find Rebecca standing in front of the sliding-glass doors leading to the balcony. It was another perfect L.A. day—clear, with blue skies and an endless view of the ocean. Rebecca wore a short nightshirt that was probably silk. The masculine tailoring suited her elegant beauty. Even mussed from sleep, wearing no makeup, Rebecca would stop traffic.
Ordinary people had no idea what life was like for the truly beautiful. How the world catered to them and shifted to make things more convenient. Jayne had been friends with Rebecca long enough to see how different things were. She’d been on plenty of shopping trips where clerks came running and nearly trampled her in their desire to be close to Rebecca. She’d had waiters pour water down her front rather than in her glass because they were so mesmerized by a smile or a glance from her friend. She’d watched men walk into walls, doors, and cars.
Rebecca turned. “You’re up. Did you sleep at all?”
“No. You?”
“I fell asleep on the sofa. Sorry. I wanted to stay up and keep you company, but I guess the jet lag got me.”
“I appreciate the effort.”
“Did I snore?”
“Even if you had, you would have been elegant.”
Rebecca laughed and pointed to the kitchen. “I made coffee. Oh, and there are those nasty frozen pastry things you like.” She shuddered.
Jayne crossed to the kitchen and opened the freezer. There was a box of toaster pastries—blueberry with extra icing. She laughed. “You sure you don’t want one?”
“Positive.”
Jayne put one in the toaster Rebecca had left out on the counter, then poured herself coffee. As she sipped it, she leaned against the counter.
Jayne had first met Rebecca on the second day of her sophomore year of high school. Jayne’s mother had taken a job as a housekeeper to a very wealthy family living close to the Wordens. The job came with a steady paycheck, benefits, and a small cottage at the rear of the property. After years of living in cheap motels and sometimes in shelters, the accommodations had been like a palace. Jayne’s mother had found the work easy enough, and while Jayne appreciated not having to worry about things like having money for meals and being able to go to the same school, she’d dreaded having to deal with über-rich teenagers.
Complicating the situation were her clothes. Elizabeth Worden had donated three boxes of barely used clothes her daughter no longer wanted. Even Jayne had heard of the Wordens and their fancy jewelry stores. She had a feeling their daughter would be happy to inform the entire school that Jayne was wearing her castoffs. Not that she had any choice. There weren’t other clothes to be had.
So Jayne had braced herself for taunts and ridicule. But when she’d come face-to-face with Rebecca Worden, the beautiful seventeen-year-old had only wrinkled her nose and said, “Thank God that skirt looks good on you. It looked hideous on me.” Then Rebecca had invited Jayne to sit with her at lunch.
The previous year of partying and stealing her friends’ boyfriends had come back to haunt Rebecca. The Worden princess had not only been forced to repeat her junior year, she’d found herself ostracized from her popular girl clique. Both alone and not able to fit in, they’d become friends, awkwardly at first, since they had little in common. Then Rebecca had discovered that beneath her quiet exterior, Jayne was funny and smart. Jayne figured out there was a heart behind Rebecca’s perfect facade. They discovered they both loved gossip magazines and thought math was just as easy for girls as for boys. Jayne had talked Rebecca down during her frequent rants about her mother, and Rebecca had shown Jayne that every family had its problems.
“It’s Elizabeth’s loss,” she said now, watching as Rebecca sat at the glass-topped dining table.
Rebecca shrugged. “Fuck her and the horse she rode in on. What do you want to do today?”
“Go home. I have to talk to my boss, and go fill out paperwork explaining why I’m on disability for the next few weeks. You probably have a million things to do. Why don’t I call a cab so you don’t have to bother?”
Rebecca stared at her. “What? This is L.A. Do we even have cabs? Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Just give me a second to get dressed.” She twirled in her nightshirt. “Unless you think I can wear this and convince everyone it’s the next big thing.”
“If anyone can, it’s you.”
Rebecca laughed.
Fifteen minutes later they were in the car, Jayne wishing she’d taken a pain pill instead of waiting until she got home. It was early—before seven—and they were in the thick of rush hour. Even so, they made good time, and Jayne found herself digging for her condo key a mere forty minutes later.
She found it and opened the door. Rebecca followed her inside.
“Do you have food?” her friend asked. “Should I have a grocery store deliver?”
“I’m fine,” Jayne said, sinking onto the sofa and closing her eyes. “Plenty of food. I just want to sleep.” Assuming the pain backed off enough that she could.
“I could get you a latte,” Rebecca said, sounding doubtful. “Except you probably don’t want coffee, right?”
Jayne shook her head, then forced her eyes open. Rebecca would need direction. Gently telling her to take off would give her friend permission to start her own day and leave Jayne blissfully alone.
“You don’t have to—” she began, only to stop when someone knocked on the open door. She glanced up and saw Katie stepping into her condo. Her friend from the breast center carried two grocery bags.
“I called and said I was coming in a couple of hours late,” Katie told Jayne. “I wanted to check on you.” Katie looked at Rebecca. “Hi, I’m Katie. I work with Jayne.”
Rebecca glanced between them. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Right.” Katie’s smile was easy, but Jayne caught her interested study of Rebecca’s fabulously cut and colored hair, of her amazing designer jeans, Italian sandals, and a silk sweater that probably cost as much as a used car.
“Jayne’s told me about you,” Katie continued, walking into the kitchen and setting down the bags. “All great stuff. It’s really nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Rebecca said, but sounded doubtful. “You’re a nurse, too?”
“Uh-huh.”
Katie returned to Jayne’s side and touched her forehead, as if checking for a fever, then placed Jayne’s uninjured wrist in her hand and took her pulse.
“I’m fine,” Jayne muttered.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Katie told her. “Did you sleep?”
“I tried.”
“Tonight will be better. I brought you food. Plenty of crackers and soup, a couple of premade sandwich
es. You’ve got to keep food in your stomach if you want to keep down your painkillers.”
“I know.”
“Ginger cookies. They help the tummy. Popsicles.” Katie smiled at Rebecca again. “We do digital imaging at the center, but we also work with cancer patients. Trust me, no one knows better than a chemo patient how to keep food down.”
Rebecca looked both uncomfortable and nauseous. “Good to know,” she said weakly. “So you’re going to stay with Jayne?”
“For a couple of hours.”
“I see. Then I should go. Let you two…” She waved vaguely. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Are you okay?” Jayne asked.
Rebecca nodded, but she looked oddly lost. Jayne wanted to reassure her but didn’t know what to say. Did Rebecca think she was Jayne’s only friend? That while she was out of the country, living large in Italy, Jayne sat home alone, waiting desperately for her return?
Obviously yes, Jayne thought, too tired and sore to deal with the problem right now. Later, she thought, as Rebecca left.
The front door closed. Katie went into the kitchen and started putting away groceries.
“Wow,” she called. “Impressive. She’s even more beautiful than I imagined. And her clothes.”
“Tell me about it.”
Katie returned to the living room with a handful of crackers and a bottle of water. “I’ve never felt more ordinary in my life. It doesn’t make you crazy?”
“I’ve been friends with her for years. I’m used to walking in her shadow.”
Katie passed over the crackers and water. “Pain pills?”
Jayne pointed to her purse.
Katie got out the prescription bottle, checked the label, then shook one into her hand. Jayne took it.
“He was gorgeous,” she said, just as Jayne was about to swallow.
Fortunately, Jayne managed to avoid choking. She gulped water, then nibbled on a cracker.
“David?” She hoped she sounded less interested than she felt.
“No. The male nurse on the third floor.” Katie sat in the chair next to the sofa. “Yes, David. He gets a ‘wow,’ too. Pretty family.”
“Yes, they are.”
“You like him.”
Like that mattered. “He thinks of me as a sister.”
“Maybe,” Katie said. “Maybe not.”
“Trust me, he does. I heard him say the words.”
“He wasn’t looking at you like a sister last night. He was hovering. It was sexy.”
Jayne winced, and this time it had nothing to do with her wrist. “Don’t say that. Hope is the enemy when it comes to David Worden.”
“You haven’t been out with a man in ages. Months. When was the last time you got laid?”
Jayne laughed. “Don’t you have to be at work soon? Shouldn’t you be leaving?”
“I’m just saying, he looks like he knows what he’s doing.”
“Maybe, but he’s not for me. He’ll marry someone from a good family.”
“Who said marriage?” Katie raised her eyebrows. “I’m talking a night or two of hot sex. You do have it bad.”
“I know, but I’ll figure out a way to get over it. Maybe I could get into a clinical trial or locate some experimental medication.”
“Or maybe you could let him know you’re interested and see how it plays out.”
“Did you see ice in hell? Because that’s what it would take.”
Katie rose. “Fine. Be that way. Eat before you medicate and try to get some sleep. I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Four
JAYNE’S DAY PASSED SLOWLY. After talking to her boss and arranging to come in later in the week to fill out the required paperwork, she spent most of her time waiting for her arm to stop hurting enough so she could sleep. Despite Katie’s food delivery and advice, the painkillers made Jayne uncomfortably queasy, so she settled on ibuprofen and hoped for the best.
There was even less on daytime television than she’d thought, which meant the afternoon crawled by. She called Rebecca, but her friend didn’t pick up. Jayne wasn’t sure if she was busy or if she was upset about Katie’s appearance.
About six thirty someone knocked on her front door. Grateful for the interruption, she hurried to answer it.
She hadn’t showered, had barely combed her hair. She had on sweats with baggy knees, a T-shirt with a rip in one sleeve, and absolutely no makeup. Which meant seeing David Worden on her tiny front porch was thrilling and horrifying in equal measures.
She tried to speak but couldn’t. Not when his killer blue eyes seemed to crinkle with pleasure and he smiled at her. He seemed taller, somehow, and broader through his shoulders. She half expected to hear movie theme music in the background.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, blurting out the words before she could come up with a slightly more gracious version.
“Delivering your car from my parents’ house,” he said. “Invite me in. I have food.”
She glanced down at the bags he held and inhaled the scent of something delicious. Her stomach growled.
“Come in.”
She closed the door behind him and followed him into her small living room.
“Great sofa,” he said. “I’ve been to a lot of places where a family would give you their best goat for a sofa like that.”
She cradled her cast in her other arm and stared at him. “What? Who would trade a goat for a sofa? A goat gives you milk and meat, although once you get the meat part, it’s pretty much over. If it’s female, you can get more goats. Who needs a sofa? You can make somewhere to sit out of dead leaves.”
He laughed. “Someone’s been watching a little too much National Geographic Channel. Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I’m crabby. Apparently I don’t do the pain thing well. And as much as I hate to repeat myself, and I do say this hoping to sound really warm and friendly, but why are you here?”
“I’m checking up on you. I’m somewhat responsible for your breaking your wrist yesterday, so I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I don’t have your number, so I couldn’t call. The thought of asking my mother for the number sent me down a road I didn’t want to go, and apparently you and Rebecca aren’t talking.”
Jayne stared at him. “We’re not?”
David grimaced and swore. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
“I doubt that. Rebecca said we’re not talking?”
He hesitated. “She implied something had happened earlier today. She was muttering. I didn’t push too hard.”
Jayne’s first reaction was guilt, quickly followed by annoyance. “I know she’s your sister, and God knows I love her, but sometimes she’s the most self-absorbed person on the planet.”
“Just sometimes?”
Jayne managed a smile. “A friend of mine stopped by to check on me. Katie. You met her at the hospital.”
“I remember.”
“I think Rebecca was hurt that I had another friend.” She shook her head. “Is that crazy?”
“With anyone but my sister.” David led the way into the kitchen. “Rebecca doesn’t share well. Especially not you.”
“So I should feel special?” She motioned to the small dinette set in the corner by the window. “Have a seat.”
He crossed the room in three long strides. “You’d probably go off on me again if I said anything about the table, right?”
“Are we talking more goats?”
“I was going to mention cattle, but you’re pretty sensitive.” He set the two bags on the table. “Chinese. I got one of everything because I didn’t know what you like. So what we need now are plates.”
Plates? As in something to put the food on? She was having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that David was actually here… in her condo. Was he staying to eat with her? She couldn’t figure out a way to ask without being rude, so she kept the que
stion to herself and pointed to the cupboard with the plates. When he collected two, she had her answer.
She put out flatware and napkins. “I have wine,” she said. “Either color.”
“Very cosmopolitan. How about red?” He put cartons of takeout on the table. “Wine okay with your prescription?”
“No, but I’m not taking the painkillers anymore. They don’t agree with me. I’ll do the ibuprofen thing until the swelling goes down.”
Five minutes later they were sitting across from each other at her small table. There was plenty of food, a nice merlot, and David Worden smiling at her. What was wrong with this picture?
“Need me to cut your food?” he asked. “Or feed you? I’m good at that sort of thing.”
“It’s egg rolls,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“You’ll be the first.”
Which apparently didn’t impress him as he scooped food onto her plate.
“And if I don’t want that much?” she asked, pointing to the large portion of chow mein noodles.
“Not my problem.” He picked up his fork. “Don’t sweat the thing with Rebecca.”
Jayne wasn’t sweating it, exactly. She felt… weird. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her.”
“It’s more than that. Friendship works both ways. If she had a problem, she should have said something.”
“You’re using logic. This isn’t a logical situation. This is female friendships.”
“Words that sound scary, I’ll admit. But the truth is, you get to have a life. She’s been living on another continent for years. She can be pouty. Don’t let her boss you around.”
“You’re taking my side.”
He grinned. “Part of my charm. Admit it. I’m the highlight of your day.”
He was, but she couldn’t even joke about that. “I broke my wrist about thirty hours ago. It’s a pretty low bar.”
“A win’s a win.”
She laughed, enjoying her time with David. He was fun—something she’d always known. But until the last couple of days, she’d never had the full force of his charms focused on her. It made thinking with a clear mind impossible
The Best of Friends Page 5
