Page 99 of The Best of Friends
“You can’t seriously expect me to believe you approve. If your son walked in right now and said he wanted to marry Jayne Scott, you’d be fine with it?”
“He could do a lot worse.”
“Yes, perhaps someone from the local prison population.”
“You’re a snob.”
“And you’re naïve. This is important. We don’t want him marrying a nobody. If we’re not careful, she’ll trap him, and we’ll all be stuck.”
Blaine’s blue eyes darkened. “We wouldn’t want our son being tricked into marriage, would we?”
Elizabeth stiffened. “If you’re going to take that tone with me, we’re not having this conversation.”
Blaine picked up his briefcase and started out of the kitchen. “Then this might be an excellent evening after all.”
***
The reception was held at Worden’s Jewelry in Beverly Hills. Rebecca hadn’t really listened when Elizabeth had said something about a reception “launching” her as Rivalsa, but as she entered the normally quiet and elegant space, she was greeted by a tall, handsome man in a tux. He offered her a martini, “shaken, not stirred,” then guided her into a transformed store.
There were white lights everywhere, competing in brilliance with a room filled with diamonds. The display cases held the usual beautiful pieces, along with hundreds of loose stones Rebecca assumed were fake. No one’s inventory was that impressive. Armed guards in tuxedos stood against the walls, watching everyone. Music from various James Bond movies played in the background, and several faux roulette wheels had been set up for the guests.
On top of the display cases reclined scantily dressed young women wearing Rebecca’s designs. Beside each model was another armed guard. These looked beefy and quite capable of taking out anyone willing to risk stealing something shiny.
Rebecca took it all in, then sipped her martini. She’d been reluctant to attend Elizabeth’s reception, but she had to admit, her mother had done a great job pulling it all together.
She scanned the crowd. There were the usual collection of the very rich, a few Hollywood types, and the serious jewelry collectors. Now that word was out as to who Rivalsa really was, she’d been getting calls from people asking about custom pieces. Business had always been good—now it was excellent.
She should have been thrilled, and she was. Sort of. The only minor annoyance was that David still wasn’t speaking to her. She’d left several messages, which he hadn’t returned, and she had even stopped by his office two days ago. He’d walked out on her.
She also hadn’t seen Jayne, which was more upsetting than she would have thought. When she’d lived in Italy, she could go several days without talking to her friend, although they always kept in touch through e-mail. Now there wasn’t anything.
Rebecca hadn’t made any calls there. She knew Jayne needed time to get over being angry. The truth was Jayne knew she wasn’t right for David. She would be the first one to admit it. However, it was possible that Rebecca’s crude assessment of the situation had been a little over the line. Accurate, but more hurtful than she would have liked.
Still, Jayne knew she was in the wrong, so she could take the first step.
“Ms. Worden.”
Rebecca watched a heavyset Russian man approach. “I see you are as beautiful as your pieces.”
“Thank you. Call me Rebecca.”
“And I am Aleksei. I am buying that necklace.” He pointed to a woven chain with three large pink diamonds.
“For your wife?”
Aleksei smiled. “For my mistress. My wife doesn’t appreciate fine jewelry.”
“Perhaps if you gave her more of an opportunity,” Rebecca murmured, then took a sip of her martini.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, sounding amused. “I would like to commission matching earrings, also in pink diamonds. The larger stones, of course. As the necklace is eight hundred thousand U.S., the earrings will be close to that price, yes?”
She thought about her diamond inventory. “I have two pink diamonds that are similar. They’re a perfect pair, three carats each. The earrings will be one-point-two million.”
“I see you are as strong as you are beautiful.”
“I could easily sell the stones to someone else.”
“Very well, one-point-two million. How long will it take you to make them?”
