“Did you ever notice,” Jenna went on after a sip of tea, “maybe in sports or dancing, that when you try too hard, you … screw up? It’s the same way with making friends. Sometimes the worst thing you can do is to try too hard.”

“But what can I do except try?”

“Just be yourself. Take an interest in other people. Give them the chance to get to know you.”

Jenna knew the words weren’t enough. No words could be. Sitting across the table was a lonely child, a child who had lost her mother and who—from all accounts—didn’t see nearly enough of her father. Before she could think about the wisdom of what she was doing, Jenna blurted out, “Perhaps we could see each other again. Would you like that?”

“How much do you charge?” Laila asked. “Charge?”

“You’re a shrink. How much do you charge? If it’s a lot, I’ll have to ask Papa—and I’d rather not.”

The question broke Jenna’s heart. Was everything in Laila’s life bought and paid for? “I wasn’t talking about seeing you professionally. I meant … as a friend.”

Laila pulled back, her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Why?” she asked. Of course, Jenna thought, after all that had happened to her, she was bound to question a stranger making overtures. “There’s an old Oriental proverb that says if you save a person’s life, you’re responsible for it from that moment on. I didn’t exactly save your life, but I think the same principle applies. I just want to know that you’ll be all right. Besides, I’ve enjoyed our talk.”

Laila cocked her head, then bobbed it. “Okay. But if Ronnie sees you, he’ll ask a lot of questions and tell Papa.”

“Ronnie?”

“My chauffeur. And kind of a guard.”

“I certainly don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s not around all the time—just when Papa’s worried.” Laila put on a serious look. “I told Papa that I need some space, you know? To be myself, like you said.” Her glance wandered to a clock on the wall. “Oh, my God. I’ve got to go. Sure, I guess it’s okay if we get together again. The best place to find me is at school. We get out at three. It’s the Brearley School. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“So come by sometime.” “Well … thanks.”

“Thank you. For … you know—what you did. By the way, my name’s Laila.” “Jenna.”

“See you, Jenna.” And she was gone.

O