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“I’ll leave her. You’re the one for me. You always have been. You’re the one I want. Say yes.”
He pulled her close and kissed her. She went willingly, surrendering to the inevitable. She and Nigel belonged together. They always had.
As he kissed his way along her jaw, he murmured, “I’ll move in with you tonight. We’ll stay in L.A. for a while, then take off for anywhere you want. Just the two of us. And the blue diamond.”
Agreement hovered on her lips, then died as his words sank in. Reality was a bitch, she thought bitterly, pushing him away. She might love Nigel, but she also knew him.
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” She reached behind her and zipped up her dress. “You’re not interested in getting back with me. This is all about the blue diamond.”
He shifted slightly. “I need it back. Things aren’t going well, and I have a buyer. I need the money, Becca Blue. Something you’ve never had to deal with.”
Few things hurt more than the death of a dream. It was like someone stabbed her in the gut and was now turning the knife. The pain made her nauseous.
“Would you really leave her?” she asked, already knowing the answer. “Can I buy you with a blue diamond?”
He frowned. “There’s no reason to be nasty.”
“Isn’t there? Does your wife know you’re for sale? Or is it a cool game of bait and switch? You promise me everything, get the diamond, then go back to her? How stupid do you think I am?” She held up her hand. “I already know the answer. Good-bye, Nigel.”
She lifted her head, squared her shoulders, and started toward the house. Every part of her hurt, but he didn’t have to know that.
“You know you want me,” he yelled after her. “No one can do what I do, Becca Blue. You can’t walk away from me.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Apparently I can.”
Thirteen
“ANOTHER MARGARITA?” REBECCA ASKED, holding up the pitcher.
Jayne squinted toward the horizon. They were facing west and the sun wasn’t in view yet, which meant going for another drink this early in the day was a bad sign.
“I think I’ll hydrate,” she murmured, reaching for her bottle of water.
“I’ll do the same,” Rebecca said, “but with tequila.” She filled her glass, then took a sip. “Much better. I almost don’t care. How’s that for progress?”
“Impressive.”
“He’s a shitty little bastard,” Rebecca muttered. “I hate him.”
“He’s disgusting,” Jayne agreed. While her evening hadn’t been especially stellar, it had been a whole lot better than Rebecca’s. “At least the sex was good.”
Rebecca adjusted her sunglasses. “With Jonathan watching. Talk about a total perv.” She raised her glass. “To me. I have absolutely no taste in men.”
They were stretched out on lounge chairs on Rebecca’s large balcony overlooking the Santa Monica beach. It was about eleven Sunday morning on a perfect kind of day. Blue sky, warm breeze, lots of good-looking guys parading by on the sand below. Jayne kept telling herself there was no bad here, but she was having a little trouble believing.
“What happened last night has nothing to do with your ability to pick men,” she told her friend. “You never picked Jonathan. He was a convenient way to screw with your mother.” She winced and rubbed her temples, then pulled her straw hat a little lower over her eyes.
Rebecca sighed. “I used him, and it came back to bite me in the butt. I guess there’s a lesson there.” She took another sip. “I can almost feel bad for him. I guess I should have told him in private. But he was really pissing me off.”
“Men do that. It’s easy for them.”
“Tell me about it.”
Jayne turned toward her. “I’m sorry about Nigel.”
“Me, too.”
Rebecca wore a hat even bigger than Jayne’s. It was one thing to lie in the sun; it was another to allow actual skin to get tanned. At least nothing above the waist. They were both covered in sunscreen. Jayne wore shorts and a T-shirt, while Rebecca had on a tiny bikini that probably cost as much as a living room set.
