Page 3 of The Best of Friends

And that had been that.

She’d consoled herself with the knowledge that at least he’d had good things to say about her. While “not a pain in the ass” wasn’t anything she wanted on her tombstone, it was nice. In a dismissive, I’ve-barely-noticed-you kind of way.

Now in the back of the limo, she reminded herself it was better this way. It was one thing for her to be friends with Rebecca and an unpaid part-time assistant to Elizabeth. It was quite another to get involved with the heir… or, as Rebecca loved to call him, the “young prince.”

Over time Jayne had accepted that her feelings were little more than an intense crush. But knowing they were irrational, and based on nothing but her personal vision of what she wanted David to be, didn’t make her knees tremble any less when he was around.

“Carmine can do it,” Rebecca said.

Carmine was the Wordens’ housekeeper.

“Carmine is visiting her daughter in Chicago.”

“Let me guess… Mother called and asked for your help.”

“A few hours ago. She had planned to be back this morning, but fate intervened.”

“You’re choosing her over me?”

“On nearly a daily basis.”

Rebecca pouted. “You’re my best friend. You can’t do what she says. You have to take my side.”

“It’s an hour,” Jayne said calmly, used to Rebecca’s tantrums and mostly immune to the guilt. “I’ll be by later. Besides, if I don’t do what Elizabeth asks, she’ll want to know why. If she starts asking questions, she might find out you’re back before you want her to.”

“I hate it when you use logic on me.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Fine. Go be dutiful. One of us should be. It’s a family thing.”

Jayne didn’t bother pointing out she wasn’t family. Not in any way that mattered, at least from their perspective. From hers, the Wordens were the closest thing she had to relatives, which made her relationship with all of them complicated.

The driver pulled off the freeway. Rebecca looked out the window. “You still live in your condo?”

“We can’t all have a villa in Milan.”

“It wasn’t a villa, exactly.”

Jayne had seen Rebecca’s Italian house a few times. It was pretty damned fabulous, with seventeenth-century tile and the original stained-glass windows. “It was amazing.”

Rebecca shrugged. “I never did learn enough Italian to fit in with the locals. Your place is nice. Homey.”

“I like it.” The condo was close to work, affordable, and a safe haven from the craziness of the Worden world.

The limo pulled up in front of the multistory building. Before opening the door, Jayne hugged her friend. “I’ll be by later.”

Rebecca nodded. “You have the address?”

“You e-mailed it to me about forty times.”

“We’ll have dinner?”

“Yes, and drink wine and tell lies about boys. Here.” Jayne pulled the current issue ofOK!magazine out of her handbag. “I bought this for you.”

Rebecca took it and hugged her. “You’re so sweet. All I brought you is a pair of earrings I made.”

Which was why, after all this time, they were still friends, Jayne thought, knowing that in Rebecca’s mind, the cheap magazine and the no-doubt-fabulously-expensive earrings were on par. Because she and Rebecca were freakishly addicted to celebrity gossip, and the magazine showed Jayne cared.