Page 25 of The Best of Friends

But that wasn’t the same, the angry, whiny voice inside complained.Shewas allowed to have friends, and Jayne wasn’t. Jayne was supposed to be waiting for her, living a boring little life until she arrived to make it better.

Which made Rebecca feel like the most selfish person on the planet.

She hated feeling bad about herself, which explained why she was now out shopping, hoping to distract herself until the mood passed.

She left the scarves and found herself by the jewelry counter. There were necklaces and earrings. Bracelets and a couple of pins. She studied the designs, scoping out the competition. A pink-pearl-and-diamond necklace caught her eye—the pearls were perfect. She was about to ask the saleswoman to take it out of the case when she heard someone talking behind her. She couldn’t place the voice, but it was oddly familiar. As if sheshouldknow who was speaking.

She turned and saw a tall man looking at a pair of earrings. He was fit, with graying dark hair. She moved closer, then stopped when she recognized Jonathan Mooney, a friend of her parents.

Jonathan was younger than the Wordens by eight or ten years, but still much older than she. She’d had a crush on him when she was twelve. Not that she’d ever told anyone. She vaguely recalled that he had two daughters and that his wife was an avid gardener.

She approached the counter. “Jonathan?”

He looked up, then raised his eyebrows. “Rebecca? Rebecca Worden?”

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He smiled. “I haven’t seen you in years. Did I know you were back in Los Angeles?”

“No, and neither does my mother. You won’t tell anyone you saw me, will you?”

“Of course not. How are you? You look great.”

His gaze traveled her face, lingering on her mouth. The attention surprised her. Jonathan had never noticed her before. She glanced at the display of earrings on the counter and the saleswoman patiently waiting.

“Buying something for your lovely wife?” she asked. Male attention was fine, but married men annoyed her. They should either stick with what they have or leave. There shouldn’t be middle ground.

“No. Liz and I are divorced. It’s been a couple of years now. I’m looking for something for my oldest daughter. Her twenty-first.”

Better, she thought, finding the attention more interesting. “That’s a big birthday. What have you picked out so far?”

He pointed to the diamond earrings, some with pearls. She leaned over the selection and studied them.

“Not pearls,” she said. “They’re traditional and might be too old for a woman her age. These diamonds are nice enough.” She fingered a design of three twisted circles, then asked for a loupe from the clerk.

After studying the small stones through the loupe, she put the earrings back. “Not really what you want,” she said, linking her arm through his and leading him away. “Why don’t you go to the Worden’s store in Beverly Hills?”

“I should,” he said. “I was in Century City visiting my attorney and thought I’d stop by to see what they have here.”

She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and wrote down two numbers. “Go and ask to see these. They’re by a new designer they’re carrying. Her work is brilliant. These earrings are young and fresh, and the stones are excellent quality. Canadian, actually, so they are conflict-free. You’ll pay about the same, but she’ll love you a whole lot more.”

“Wonderful. How can I thank you?”

They walked out of the store, and she pointed to the coffee stand a few feet away. “You can buy me a latte.”

“Is that all?”

“I’m low maintenance.”

Jonathan laughed. “I know that isn’t true. You’re a Worden.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’ve been on my own for a long time.”

“Fair enough.”

They stopped by the coffee cart and placed their orders. After Jonathan paid, they moved aside to wait for the lattes.

“Where have you been all this time?” he asked.