Page 17 of The Best of Friends

Elizabeth sighed. “You’re not going to talk business now, are you? It’s late, and we’re all exhausted.”

David grinned. “I won’t say a word except I found another designer.”

“As good as Rivalsa?” she asked. “Those designs are excellent.”

“Close,” David said. “I’ll show you in the morning.”

“You said Jayne was here when you arrived,” Elizabeth said, more to keep them from talking business than because she was interested.

“Yes. It was a greeting full of pomp, but not so much on the circumstance.”

“She’s a sensible girl. Smart.” Loyal, which Elizabeth valued more than intelligence. Jayne could always be counted on to do the right thing. She eyed her son. “If you won’t take me house hunting with you, then at least take Jayne.” Jayne would keep him from buying something horrid or inappropriate.

“You’re buying a house?” Blaine asked. “Not something a man should do on his own.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Doesn’t Jayne have a life?” David asked.

Elizabeth dismissed the idea with a flick of her fingers. “She has a job, but I’m sure she can rearrange her schedule. I’ll call her.” The best part of David’s taking Jayne along was that Elizabeth would know everything he was doing.

“I can call her,” David said slowly. “You’ll be busy, getting settled.”

So true. Running this house was a massive responsibility. There was also the matter of letting everyone know David was home.

“I want to host a welcome-back party,” she said. “Nothing huge or formal. A brunch.”

He shifted on the sofa. “Mother, that’s not really my thing.”

“Yes, I know. It’s mine, which is why I’ll take care of it. Come on, David. Let us show you off to our friends. Blaine, don’t you want everyone to see how your son turned out?”

Blaine smiled. “Of course. As long as there are a lot of pretty girls for him.”

“What would a party be without pretty girls?” Elizabeth had been working on a list of appropriate women ever since David had said he was returning to Los Angeles. If she could just get him married to one of them and get her pregnant with her first grandchild, she would be able to relax.

“I can get my own girl,” David said.

“Your mother has excellent taste,” Blaine reminded him. “You might want to let her cull the herd, so to speak. It will save you time.”

“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?”

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