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“You don’t have any paperwork on it?” David asked.
“No. I suppose he could claim I stole it, but then he would have to admit that he had it in the first place. And I did smuggle it into the country.”
“You won’t like prison,” her brother said cheerfully.
“Gee, thanks for your support.”
Blaine shook his head. “I’m not worried about that. Is it possible Nigel and Jonathan are working together?”
“No.” She paused and considered the question. “Maybe. Nigel’s not a happy guy.”
The men exchanged a look she couldn’t read, then David patted her on the shoulder and stood.
“We’ll take care of it,” he said. “Don’t worry. But next time, could you pick somebody who won’t want to crucify you in the press?”
She stuck out her tongue. David laughed. Blaine followed his son to the door.
“Your brother is right,” he told her. “This is manageable. I want you to spend your time learning about stainless steel jewelry.”
“I promise,” she said, collecting her bag.
She walked out after them. Despite the article and the two angry men after her, she felt good. Loved and protected by those who mattered. As to Elizabeth, she could go to hell.
Rebecca celebrated her legal soon-to-be victory with a mocha Frappuccino, no whip, then drove to the studio. She felt inspired and ready to get to work on her stainless steel designs. She’d already done about a dozen sketches, and a couple of the ideas were keepers. She was playing with a signature look. A leaf design that would—
She rounded the corner, heading for the parking garage next to the design center, only to have to stop behind a half dozen police cars parked in front of the building. It took her ten minutes to work her way around them and into the garage. As she parked, she fought against a bad feeling in her stomach. A sense that she wasn’t going to like what she found inside.
Sure enough, she’d barely made it to the first floor of the building when two of the other jewelers came running toward her.
“Somebody broke in and stole all your stuff,” one of the women yelled. “They trashed your space and even broke the bench.”
Rebecca’s stomach flipped, making her regret the Frappuccino, whip or no, and followed the women inside. After she’d shown the police her ID, she was allowed to climb the stairs to her workspace and survey the damage.
Someone had destroyed everything. Her sketches were in ruins, her small safe broken open and everything missing. The only thing still in one piece was her stool, with a note attached. Block letters suggested that sheTRY FUCKING ON THIS NEXT TIME.
“Do you know what it means?” one of the LAPD officers asked.
She had a good idea it was connected to Jonathan’s watching her make love with Nigel in her mother’s garden.
She wasn’t afraid. Jonathan’s actions were childish and spiteful. But inside, she felt an emotion she didn’t usually allow herself. Guilt.
Jayne was right—Jonathan had done nothing worse than not be Nigel. She’d cruelly and publicly humiliated him in front of his peers. She’d destroyed what mattered most to him, his reputation, and now he was trying to destroy what mattered most to her. At the lawyer’s office, she’d been annoyed, but now she was simply ashamed.
“Do you know who did this?” the police officer asked.
She nodded slowly. “I doubt he did it himself, but I know who’s behind it.” She gave them Jonathan’s name, his work and home address. “He’s a banker,” she added. “A very rich banker.”
The officer grinned. “My favorite kind.”
Blaine poured more coffee. “We need a plan.”
“What about beating the crap out of both of them?” David asked. “Or at least threatening it. That would work on Jonathan.”
“An interesting idea. But from what I remember about Nigel, he would be happy to take you on.”
David chuckled. “I thought you’d be doing the fighting.”
Blaine grinned, then settled back in his chair.
