The Secret Diamond Sisters (26 page)

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Authors: Michelle Madow

BOOK: The Secret Diamond Sisters
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Maybe with this fresh start in Vegas, it was time to make some changes.

Now she was left alone in the Lobby Bar, with a half-finished orange juice and Mike’s empty Sprite. The waitress collected the glass, and Peyton asked for the check. She did an imaginary toast with the girl/tree statue and took a long sip of her drink. Then she spotted Jackson across the room, his hazel eyes watching her intently. Like he wanted to come over and talk to her.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, then motioned for him to join her. He didn’t move, and she thought he would continue standing there, doing a crappy job of trying to ignore her. But then, after what appeared to be an intense emotional battle, he slowly walked toward her.

“I take from what I saw that you managed to get your point across?” he asked once he had arrived next to her chair.

“If you want to join me, you can,” Peyton said. “You don’t have to stand there awkwardly.”

Jackson glanced around nervously, as if he could get in trouble for socializing with the daughter of his employer. Finally he sat down in the seat vacated by Mike. The waitress came over to see if he wanted anything, and he ordered a Mountain Dew. She guessed that his drinking alcohol on the job would be frowned upon—if he drank at all. He struck her as the straight-edge type.

“So you and Mike are over?” Jackson asked again. He must be really curious about what had happened. Peyton didn’t know why he cared, but she wanted to talk with someone, and Jackson was here and listening. Why not talk to him?

She ran through the entire conversation with Mike. “It must sound like I’ve got serious commitment issues,” she said when she finished, managing a small laugh even though it wasn’t actually funny.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jackson said.

“Then what
would
you say?”

“It sounds like you’re a seventeen-year-old girl who’s figuring out what she wants. Most seventeen-year-olds aren’t in long-distance relationships, Peyton. It’s normal for you to want to end things with Mike, especially since you weren’t with him for a long time before you moved.”

“At least when you say it that way I don’t sound like a heartless bitch.”

Jackson looked pissed. “Did Mike say that to you?”

“Not directly...but he implied it.”

“You got hurt when you were younger,” Jackson said. “It sucks, but you’ll get past it.”

Peyton clenched her fists and sipped her drink to cool down. “How do you know about Vince?” she asked. She never talked about Vince—except to Oliver at the club last night. Had Jackson listened to their conversation? He was supposed to watch out for her, but she didn’t like the idea of
anyone
listening to her private conversations.

“I read your file,” he said. She got angrier at the notion of having a file—
and
having someone read it—but he continued before she could speak. “I had to read your file before starting as your bodyguard, since knowing as much as possible about you helps me keep you safe.”

“That’s so...intrusive.” She sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. “What sort of things are in my file?”

Jackson cleared his throat, looking guilty about bringing it up. “Normal things,” he said. “Nothing too personal. It’s an overview of your schedule, your personality, what to expect from you, and any past events that were important in your life. It helps us understand who we’re protecting. But remember, it’s all for your safety. Everything your father has done is because he can’t stand the idea of you or your sisters getting hurt because of your connection to him.”

“So he says.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “Any chance I can see this file of mine?”

“I can’t do that,” he said. “Sorry. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about it.”

“Figured as much,” Peyton said. “But it couldn’t hurt to ask.” Still, she wouldn’t forget she had a file. If there was any way for her to find it and read it, she would. But she had a feeling Jackson wouldn’t budge right now, so she had to change tactics. “How did you get into being a bodyguard?” she asked. “No offense, but you seem young to be doing this.”

“I’ve been doing martial arts since I was six,” Jackson said proudly. “Became one of the best in the country by the time I was sixteen, won national awards and made it to international competitions. I could have competed professionally, but I wanted to use my skills to help others, so long story short, here I am.”

“So if someone tried to hurt me, you could karate chop them to death?” Peyton did a fake karate move with her hand.

“Something like that,” he said with a chuckle. “But hopefully you won’t get into a situation where that would be necessary.”

“And you’re from Vegas?”

“Nope,” Jackson said. “Omaha, Nebraska.”

Peyton was mid-drink when he said that, and she laughed so hard that her juice went up her nose. “You really grew up in Nebraska?” she asked once she stopped choking. It was smack in the middle of the country, and the one place she and her sisters had always joked about probably being worse to live than Fairfield.

“Born and raised.”

“Did you grow up on a farm?”

“For your information, Omaha is a real city. Tall buildings and all.”

“So you lived in the city?”

“Well, my parents owned land nearby,” he said sheepishly. “And we might have had some livestock. But we weren’t
too
far from the city.”

“And the truth comes out!” Peyton joked.

“Just don’t tell anyone.” He leaned back in his chair, looking more at ease than Peyton had seen him yet. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin my reputation.”

They chatted until they finished their drinks and Jackson had to return to his post. Peyton headed back up to the condo to watch a movie. She asked him to join her, but as she’d expected, he declined her offer. Still, after the Mike disaster it was nice to hang out with Jackson, talking like they were real friends. For the first time since arriving, she felt relaxed in Las Vegas.

Now all she had to worry about was what was going to happen with Oliver when she saw him at the grand opening. She had stupidly taken his bet and not told Courtney about what had happened between them. But she would win. She knew her sister, and Courtney would never be interested in Oliver.

She couldn’t wait to shove it in his face tomorrow night.

chapter 24:

Madison woke up on Thursday morning with a pounding headache. Her mouth felt dry, and she could taste the alcohol from last night. Her stomach swirled from the reminder of how much she’d drunk. Her body felt like jelly, and she wanted to lay in bed forever until she felt better.

I’m never drinking again,
she thought, rolling over and tossing her arm to the side of the bed.

That was when she hit something—some
one
—and memories from last night poured back to her. Damien, and how she’d kissed him in front of everyone at Luxe. How excited he was when he’d kissed her back, and how she might have liked it. The horrified look on Savannah Diamond’s face as she saw them together, and how Madison saw Nick talking with Savannah as she ran out of the club, made worse by the way he looked
interested
in whatever she was saying and left with her. It made her hate Savannah even more.

After seeing that, she’d drunk more with Damien...and the rest of the night was blank. She only knew she’d gotten a hotel room at the Gates with him later that night because she recognized the style of the room from after-parties Oliver had thrown last year.

What had she gotten herself into? Her lungs tightened, and the walls spun, like they were going to close in around her. She shut her eyes, as if doing so could make everything that had happened last night go away. If only she could teleport out of there and never see Damien again.

On top of it all, her parents were going to
kill
her for not coming home last night.

What had happened between her and Damien after they’d gone up to the hotel room? She would know if she’d lost her virginity to him—right? She would feel it? She’d heard the first time hurt, and she felt okay in that area. Also, Damien would want her to be sober before making a huge decision like that. Not like she would ever sleep with Damien in the first place.

Still, that didn’t stop her from worrying.

She opened her eyes and saw Damien’s sleeping face. His dark hair was matted to his forehead in a way he would never allow to happen in public, and he looked happy. More memories of kissing him passed through Madison’s mind—he was a great kisser—and heat spread through her body. Which was absurd. She couldn’t have feelings for Damien Sanders.

Now that they’d kissed, there was no way things between them would stay the same.

This was why she never allowed herself to get drunk. She had to take control of the situation—now. But first she had to brush her teeth. If she had to taste any more alcohol, she was going to throw up.

She slid out of the king-size bed and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. The first thing she saw was the mirror, and luckily her reflection wasn’t horrible. She’d taken her dress off before going to sleep, and she was glad she’d worn the Le Mystere black lace bra and underwear set she’d bought a few weeks ago. She placed her hands on her hips and posed like a model in an underwear catalog, giving a sultry smile to the mirror like it was a camera about to take her picture. Her makeup was slightly smudged, but it had survived the night pretty well. She dabbed a wet washcloth under her eyes to wipe away the flakes of mascara, ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at her reflection again. Perfect.

It wasn’t like she
cared
about how she looked for Damien. But it was always good to look your best.

She didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste, so the mouthwash next to the sink would have to do. She swished it, glad it was strong enough to dissolve the taste of sleep and alcohol.

She walked back into the room and was surprised to find Damien awake. He rested his chin in his hand, smiling lazily.

“Wow,” he said, his eyes roaming her body.

The realization of what might have happened hit Madison all over again. If she’d had sex with Damien, that was it. Losing her virginity could only happen once. Her stomach rolled thinking it might have happened last night, and that if it had, she couldn’t remember it.

She had to find out the truth before the possibilities drove her crazy.

She felt exposed in her underwear, even though Damien had seen her in a bathing suit plenty of times and it wasn’t
that
much different, so she picked up her dress from the armchair and put it on. The short dress didn’t cover much, and Madison yearned to snuggle into yoga pants and a tank top and go back to sleep.

She sat at the end of the bed, faced Damien and took a deep breath. It was now or never. “What happened last night?” she asked.

His eyes dimmed. “You don’t remember?”

Madison was surprised at how upset he sounded. But it wasn’t Damien’s feelings she worried about—the question of her virtue was at stake here—so she regained her composure. “Of course I don’t remember,” she snapped. “Do you think this would have happened if I hadn’t been completely wasted?”

He looked like he’d been slapped, and Madison wished she hadn’t been so harsh. No matter what stupid decision she had made, Damien was her friend.

Well, maybe—it depended on how he answered the question.

“You kissed me,” he said slowly, sitting up against the headboard. “In the club.”

“I remember that,” she said, not wanting to think about it any more than necessary. “Then we drank more. That’s where the night gets hazy.”

“Hazy?” he said. “It sounds like you blacked out.”

She threw a pillow at his head, disappointed when he easily caught it. “I guess I did,” she admitted. “So can you please explain how we got here?”

The smug look disappeared. “At the end of the night you were freaking out about your parents seeing you that drunk,” he said. “You had no idea what to do. You said you couldn’t go home like that. You could barely walk on your own, so you couldn’t have hidden that you’d been drinking, and I know how your dad always wakes up when you get home to say good-night—”

“Get to the point,” Madison interrupted, although flashes of what had happened were coming back to her. Like how she’d danced with Damien—really closely—in front of everyone for the majority of the night. But that still didn’t explain how they’d woken up in the same bed this morning.

“It was your idea.” He ran his hands through his already messy hair, sounding exasperated now. “You texted your parents that you were sleeping at Larissa’s, but she had already left, so you had nowhere to go. You
wanted
me to stay with you so you didn’t have to be alone. Plus, your parents would notice the charge on your credit card for a hotel room and mine wouldn’t.” He paused before continuing. “Listen, Mads, I don’t know what you think happened here, but I would never let you do anything you weren’t ready for. I thought you knew that about me. I...care about you, Mads. A lot.”

His pained expression convinced her: despite his reputation, Damien would never take advantage of her like that. Plus, she remembered that once they’d gotten to the room, she’d collapsed into bed and passed out.

She also vaguely remembered her fingers being laced with Damien’s as she’d slept, but she didn’t want to think about that. Doing something while you slept was involuntary. It didn’t count as real life.

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he said, his dark eyes burning with intensity.

Madison had no idea what to say. Because she hadn’t been so drunk that she didn’t know what she was doing when she’d kissed Damien the first time. She’d known it would be leading him on, but she’d done it anyway. Had she been trying to prove she could steal him from Savannah? Was she that angry at Brett and Oliver for being interested in Courtney, and at Oliver for sleeping with Peyton?

Those girls were destroying Madison’s life, and she hated all three of them for it.

“Listen, Damien,” she started. “I never should have kissed you. I’d already drunk a lot by that point, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I did it because... Well, I don’t know why I did it. But it was a mistake. I’m sorry.” The apology sounded lame, but it wasn’t like she could tell him the truth, and she couldn’t come up with anything better. She hated that she’d let it get to this point.

“A mistake?” Damien’s voice rose in anger. “Try telling that to Savannah Diamond. You destroyed that girl for a
mistake?

“Why are you bringing Savannah into this?” Madison snapped. “You think she had it so bad for you that seeing us together
destroyed
her? Please. You don’t even like her.”

“I never said that,” he said. “Savannah’s a sweet girl. She’s different than most of the sluts around here. I was taking her more seriously than that.”

“You were actually interested in her?” Madison doubted it.

“What I feel for Savannah is nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

“And what exactly
do
you feel for me?”

“You’re one of the most amazing girls I know,” he said, his eyes serious. “Scratch that—you
are
the most amazing girl I know. And it’s not just that you’re hot, which you are, but you’re smart and witty and fun, and you take action to get what you want. Whenever you’re faced with something tough, you don’t sit back and sulk, but you figure out a way to make things better and then you go do it. You’re going to get into Stanford, then go to medical school and do something great with your life. I know you don’t take me seriously or whatever, but if you’re willing to give me a chance, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Madison sat back in surprise. She hadn’t expected Damien to say that. It was kind of...sweet. Really sweet.

Maybe this could take her mind off Brett.

But the thought of Brett reminded Madison why she had never been fully attracted to Damien. Brett had goals, even if they were superartsy and not anything that interested her. He had direction, and he cared enough about school to voluntarily get tutored so he could catch up to the Goodman curriculum. That was worth something to Madison. Damien had no idea what he wanted to do with his life—he wasn’t even sure where he wanted to apply to college, which was sad since he was going to be a senior in the fall and most applications were due in December. Madison, on the other hand, already knew that when she was a senior she was going to apply for early decision from Stanford—and that she would get in.

Okay, so she couldn’t know that for sure, but Stanford had no reason
not
to want her.

Damien was right that she was going to do something with her life. The problem was that she couldn’t say the same for him, and he deserved better than to be with someone who didn’t 100 percent believe in him.

“This is when you say something in response,” Damien interrupted her thoughts.

“Right.” Madison snapped back into focus. Damien’s hopeful expression made her feel terrible about what she had to say next. “That was sweet of you. Really. But you’re my friend, Damien. And you’re a great friend—one of my best—but there’s nothing more than that between us. There’s never going to
be
anything more than that between us. I’m sorry.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “That wasn’t what you were thinking when you kissed me last night.”

“The problem was that I
wasn’t
thinking,” Madison said. “I had too much to drink.”

“Too much to drink.” He let out a small laugh that made it clear he thought this was anything but funny. “Except you know what they say—it’s not called truth juice for nothing.”

“Whatever,” Madison said, picking up her purse from the chair. “People do all kinds of stupid things when they’re drunk. You of all people should know that.”

He gasped in fake surprise. “Are you implying I drink too much?”

“Implying?” She raised an eyebrow. “More like pointing out the obvious.”

“And now that you’ve so lovingly pointed out how much I drink, as an expert on the topic I can tell you that when you first came up to me you weren’t drunk yet—just tipsy. You got drunk
after
we kissed. So you knew what you were doing when you first did it. Do you think I would have let you kiss me otherwise?”

“You would have let me kiss you no matter what,” Madison said.

“Is that so?” He cocked his head to the side and smirked.

“You’ve never been subtle about your feelings for me.”

“And I could say the same to you.” His leisurely tone grated on Madison. “You don’t exactly go light on the flirting whenever we’re together.”

“But you know it never
meant
anything,” she said, exasperated. Damien’s “logic” was driving her mental.

“Fine,” he said. “You’re right.”

“So things between us can go back to normal?” she asked. Once he said yes, she could leave and pretend like last night—and this morning—had never happened.

He held his gaze steady with hers. “I never said that.”

The ground wobbled beneath Madison’s feet. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that sometimes you can’t plan everything,” he said, angry now. “I can’t say things between us will go back to ‘normal,’ because what happened happened. I can’t erase my memory. And neither can Savannah, even though I wish she could.”

“It was your choice to kiss me back knowing she would see,” Madison pointed out. “Anyway, we both know that Savannah Diamond will always be your second choice. Don’t lie and say you wouldn’t ditch her in a second if I wanted to be with you.”

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