The Secret Diamond Sisters (8 page)

“If our lives are in danger, why did you wait until now to hire them to protect us?” Peyton asked.

“The men I hire are the best,” Adrian said. “I’ve had guards keeping tabs on you for your whole lives. They dressed modestly while guarding you in California—their usual uniforms would stand out too much there—but now they’ve returned to their formal attire. I believe it’s time I introduced them to you.” He typed something on his phone. Immediately, three men stepped into the private dining room.

They were all tall, built and wearing matching black suits with Bluetooth cords attached into their right ears. But while they all wore the same outfit, they varied greatly in age. One was older, with gray hair and skin beginning to wrinkle, another looked to be a little younger than Adrian, but with dark hair and sharper features. The last one could barely be older than Peyton herself. With his blond hair cut nearly to his scalp and a sculpted body, he could easily pass for a senior on a high school football team. Surely he couldn’t have the same amount of experience as the men beside him.

“Girls, I want you to meet Carl, Teddy and Jackson,” Adrian said, pointing to each man as he said his name.

Carl was the oldest, Teddy was the one who looked Adrian’s age and Jackson was the youngest. Even his name sounded fitting for a football player. His hazel eyes met Peyton’s, his gaze strong and confident, which sent her stomach flipping. How old was he? He had to be older than her, but she doubted he could be more than twenty-five.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Courtney said, and Peyton had to press her lips together to stop from laughing. It always amused her how Courtney remained polite in the strangest situations.

“They have each been assigned to one of you personally,” Adrian said. “Carl is in charge of Savannah, Teddy is in charge of Courtney, and Jackson is in charge of Peyton. They will keep tabs on your whereabouts. They will remain invisible to you as much as possible, but since security in Vegas requires higher measures than Fairfield, you will notice their presence at times. They’ve been staying under the radar today since you were unaware of them and they didn’t want to scare you, but from now on when you leave your condo they will be in the hall, and they will accompany you in the elevators. Apart from those instances, they will mostly go unnoticed by you. This will be an adjustment, but go about your lives the same as you did before you were aware of their presence. They are not babysitters, so they will not tell me anything about your personal lives unless it is necessary for your safety.”

Adrian dismissed the bodyguards, and Peyton gave Jackson one last small smile before he left. He probably wasn’t allowed to show much emotion, especially in front of Adrian, but she thought he smiled back. While she didn’t love the idea of someone trailing her every move, Jackson was hot enough that it didn’t bother her. Maybe he even had a fun side. It would be worth finding out.

“My bodyguard can’t be much older than I am,” Peyton said, hoping Adrian would reveal his age.

“Jackson is young, but he is one of the best at what he does,” Adrian said. “He will do an excellent job keeping you safe at all times.”

Peyton was disappointed he didn’t give her an exact age, but it wasn’t a problem. Jackson would be trailing her every move. She would have many opportunities to discover that fact on her own.

“As I mentioned earlier, you’ll live here for a year and go to Goodman,” Adrian said. Peyton crossed her arms, and he added, “Or another school, if after two months at Goodman you decide it isn’t to your liking. When the year is up, you can choose where you want to go from there. I will support your decisions, as long as they are sensible. There are some rules, though.” He looked each of them in the eyes before continuing. “Since it’s summer, you don’t have a curfew—your bodyguards will keep you safe at all times—but I expect you to come home at night. Once school begins you’ll have a curfew, but we’ll discuss specifics later. I also don’t mind if you have a glass of wine with dinner, or a casual drink with friends. Despite your mother’s struggles, I allow this because it’s the way I was raised. I believe if I prohibit you from drinking, you’ll do it secretly anyway and go overboard with it, as many people your age are known to do. But if you’re caught being irresponsible with alcohol to the point where you embarrass yourself publicly, that will end.”

He paused to let that sink in, then continued, “As I told you in the condo earlier, I have no problem with you using your credit cards to buy what you please. I encourage it, since I doubt you had the privilege to do so in your previous circumstances—but there’s a catch. You may not do anything that will result in bad press for our family. We all know of some infamous hotel heiresses—no need to name names—whom I’ve had to bar from my properties for...inappropriate behavior. It’s in your best interests to remain under the radar. Use your judgment and act wisely, because gossip pages
will
talk about what you do. People will take pictures of you and post them on the internet. I don’t want any negative attention brought to our family. If that happens, your credit card privileges will be severely limited, and you will have an early curfew. Do you understand?”

Peyton nodded, just so he would drop the subject. She was sick of listening to this lecture. She ignored the rules at home, especially since her mom didn’t follow through with punishments, and she would continue doing whatever she wanted here, no matter what boundaries Adrian tried to place on her. She hadn’t needed an unlimited credit card in Fairfield, and she wasn’t about to become dependent on one now. Plus, no one even knew who they were.

Yet.

Adrian looked straight at Peyton, making her feel uneasy. “No negative press also means no flirting with your future stepbrother,” he said. “That line is not to be crossed.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” Peyton protested, glad Adrian hadn’t caught her eyeing up Jackson. She didn’t want him trying to put an end to that before it had a chance to begin. “He looked bored and I was being friendly. It wasn’t anything more.”

Adrian didn’t appear to believe her, but he dismissed the topic. “I’m glad we discussed that, but we need to go to the club. Some of your future classmates will be there. Brett will introduce you to them.” He finished his coffee and continued, “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to get to know each other since your arrival. Things have been busy around here, and while I wish the timing was better, there will be plenty of opportunity for all that in a few days, after the grand opening for the hotel and residences on Saturday night.”

At that, he stood up to leave the steakhouse. It was time to go to Myst.

chapter 8

Madison Lockhart loved Myst. It was the most extravagant nightclub in Vegas, with its three-story waterfall cascading from the ceiling into the lagoon on the first floor. She sat with her friends in a semicircular booth on the VIP level, waiting for international DJ superstar David Guetta to hit the stage. A few people danced on the elevated lit-up platform—mainly adults who had already had a few drinks. Normally Myst drew a younger crowd, but this Fourth of July party was a special event. The fireworks show was rumored to be better than the one at Caesars Palace, and would be choreographed to David Guetta’s music. Madison couldn’t wait to see it.

She watched her parents step onto the floor and dance with each other. This was one of the few nights they both weren’t working, which was rare since her dad was the lead neurosurgeon at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center—the best hospital in the state—where her mom also worked as an anesthesiologist. Nights when they looked this relaxed didn’t happen often.

They waved her up to join them, but Madison shook her head. That so wasn’t happening.

“I think your parents want you to dance with them,” Oliver Prescott joked from his seat next to her.

Madison rolled her eyes. She and Oliver had been best friends since elementary school, but whenever she looked at him now she was reminded of how much he’d changed in the past year. Oliver had always been good-looking, but he’d started working out over the past few months, and it showed. Every inch of his body was more defined. He’d also grown his hair out during their sophomore year, and while it wasn’t long, it looked much better than the shaved look he’d tried to pull off when they were freshmen. It brought out his dark eyes. And one thing Oliver knew how to do was use his eyes. He had the “look at a girl and make her melt” technique down perfectly. He could get any girl he wanted, and he knew it. But it didn’t matter who they were—students at UNLV or celebrities—Oliver never kept his attention on one girl for long.

Madison hoped he wouldn’t be like Damien and set his sights on the Diamond girls. That would piss her off. But while Oliver and Damien had a lot in common, Damien liked the emotional game—dating and making girls fall head over heels for him—whereas for Oliver, it was about the physical conquests. But it had never been like that between them. She wouldn’t want to risk messing up their friendship, even if she thought she could trust him in a relationship. He had also been on a gambling spree this summer, but as the son of one of the wealthiest hotel owners in Vegas, at least he could afford it.

Oliver scooted closer to her, tilting his head in concern. “Is something wrong?” he asked softly.

Why had everyone been asking her that recently? First Damien, and now Oliver. It was seriously irritating.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She brushed off the question and poured herself a glass of champagne from the bottle that came with their table. Screw the calories—she needed to relax. She would make it up tomorrow by eating less and adding more time to her workout. “Why would it be?”

Before Oliver could answer, Damien slid into the booth and swung his arm around Madison’s shoulders. His skin radiated heat, like he’d been dancing. “You look amazing,” he said, his face inches from hers. He smelled like vodka and orange juice, and Madison wondered how much he’d had.

“Thanks,” Madison said, glad she’d chosen the Shoshanna dress. She loved wearing black—not only was it slimming, but it looked best on her. This particular dress was sleeveless, so it showed off her defined collarbones, and it was short without being
too
short, falling to midthigh. Plus, most of the other girls were wearing red, white or blue dresses, so hers stood out.

Oliver shifted in his seat next to her, and he said something to their friend Larissa. Oliver and Larissa had an “agreement”—friends with benefits, or something like that. Madison suspected that Larissa felt more for Oliver than she let on, but he didn’t take her seriously. Which was good, since Oliver and Larissa would make a terrible couple. He deserved someone who would challenge him, and Larissa wasn’t that person.

“You look good, too,” Madison told Damien. It wasn’t a lie. Most girls at the party would have killed to be sitting so close to him. “I like this.” She brought her hand up to the thin leather necklace he had on, allowing her fingers to linger across his skin. “Is it new?”

His breathing slowed at her touch, and Madison curved her lips into a small smile. “I’ve had it for a while,” he said, bringing his hand up to rest on top of hers. “But since you like it I’ll make sure to wear it more often.”

Not wanting to stay like that for too long—she liked occasional contact with Damien, but she didn’t want to lead him on
too
much—she brought her hand back down to her lap and scanned the room for one person in particular.

It didn’t take long to spot Brett Carmel sitting at the bar by himself. He never was the most social guy on the planet—which was why he was so mysterious to her.

“I’m sick of this champagne,” Madison announced, placing her glass down on the table. “I’m getting something else.”

Damien let her out of the booth, his eyes following her every movement. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“I’m fine.” She glanced at the bar to make sure Brett was still there. He was. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She sauntered across the club, feeling heads turn, enjoying the rush from the attention. Brett didn’t notice her until she slid into the seat next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, rotating the stool to face him.

“Nope.” He looked straight ahead and took a swig from his bottle of beer. His lack of excitement to see her disheartened her, but she wouldn’t give up. Maybe he was just having a bad day.

She pointed at his drink. “Didn’t they offer you a glass for that?” Not many people ordered beer on the VIP level, but the bartender should have served it in a classier way.

“It tastes better from the bottle.” He drank from it again, looking behind him like he was searching for someone who
wasn’t
Madison. What was his problem? Most guys would be thrilled if she gave them the time of day, and Brett had the nerve to act indifferent.

Her confidence waned. Why was Brett so disinterested in her? She might not have a reputation for being the friendliest girl at school, but she wasn’t cruel or slutty. Definitely not slutty. She wasn’t going to whore herself out to any guy who wanted her (which was a lot of them), so she would be patient until she met someone she wanted to be with. There had been times when Madison had contemplated giving up the hope of romance and losing her virginity to a friend. Oliver would probably be on board if she asked. But she held out hope that her first time would be special—with someone she loved, who loved her in return.

“So...” she said to Brett, trying to figure out how to continue the conversation. “I haven’t seen you here recently.”

“That’s because I haven’t been here recently.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t making this not-awkward thing easy. “Why’d you change your mind and come tonight?”

“I was forced.”

Madison didn’t know how to respond, so she ordered a glass of Meursault Chardonnay from the bartender. He carded her and scanned the fake ID Oliver had gotten through a connection for everyone in their group of friends, giving it back to her once it came through okay. The ID was top-notch and hadn’t failed her yet.

Madison lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled. Meursault was her favorite—full and buttery, with a finish of honey. It might mean another 100 fewer calories that she could have tomorrow, but she needed the liquid confidence. She swirled it around and tasted it. “This is delicious.” She savored the sweet aftertaste and held it out to Brett, leaning closer so he got a good look at her cleavage. “It’s my favorite wine. Want to try it?”

He rested an elbow on top of the bar and rubbed the corners of his eyes. “Not really.” He sighed, and looked at her with what might be pity. “Madison,” he said her name extra carefully. “If you’re looking for a repeat of two weeks ago, I already told you we’re not right for each other. Summer makes it easy to forget how you and your friends ignore me around school, but if that’s not going to change, then we’re never going to happen.”

“It could change,” Madison said. “Your mom is dating Adrian Diamond, so now it will be easy for you to fit in with my friends. If I tell them to accept you, they will.”

“You don’t get it.” Brett looked sad, and a little frustrated. “I like you, Madison, because you’re smart and determined, but I don’t want to change who I am to fit in with your friends. I have my own friends, who like me for who I am and who I have things in common with. If you want, you could hang out with us for a change.”

He’d invited her before. It had always been tempting, but then her friends had pointed out there was a can’t-miss-it party coming up and how Madison had to be there. Spending time with her friends was always fun, and she never wanted to turn down an invitation from them, but sometimes the constant partying got repetitive. Would she enjoy herself at the places Brett invited her, too?

“I don’t know, Brett,” she said honestly. Because if her friends found out she was hanging out with those weirdos Brett spent time with outside of school, they would give her hell for it. They wouldn’t understand her interest in him. Which made sense, since she could barely understand it herself.

“Okay,” he said. “Then I’m not sure what else you want from me.”

Madison frowned.
To know why you’re so disinterested in me,
she thought, taking another sip of wine to maintain her composure. She refused to let Brett see how much his lack of interest hurt her. “I was getting a drink, saw you here, and wanted to say hi. Is that so bad?”

“Have you told Nick about what happened between us yet?” Brett asked, ignoring her question.

Madison jolted back at the mention of her ex. “No,” she answered, not wanting to think about how she broke up with Nick a day after she’d made out with Brett. Nick hadn’t said it directly, but she knew he didn’t buy her reason that her feelings for him had faded. And while she didn’t regret what happened with Brett, she hated that she’d cheated on Nick. He was a good guy. He deserved someone better than her. Someone who loved him more than she ever had—or would.

“You should keep it that way.” Brett took another swig of beer. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for getting between you two.”

“I wouldn’t take back what happened between us,” she said calmly, despite her growing frustration that she would never get through to him. She tightened her grip on her wineglass and took another sip, willing herself not to snap. “Besides, you didn’t think ‘we weren’t right for each other’ when you kissed me.”

“Look, Madison, I’m really sorry for leading you on,” Brett said, and her head pounded with dread about whatever he was about to say next. “But I had too much to drink that night. I wasn’t thinking straight. Like I said earlier, we have nothing in common, and we hang out with different people. The two of us together would never work.”

“And like
I
said earlier, that’s no problem at all,” Madison said. “If I vouched for you, my friends would welcome you into our group.” She crossed her legs in his direction and smiled, hopeful he would see it her way. Because if this was really Brett’s biggest qualm about making it work between them, it was easily solvable. It would be as simple as him inviting her and her friends over to his condo tonight for an after-party once David Guetta finished DJ-ing.

Brett looked at the table where Madison had been sitting with Damien and the rest of them. “I know you’re close with that group, but I have my own friends, and I prefer hanging out with them.”

“You mean the ones who go to public school?” Madison asked. He could do so much better than those losers.

“Yep,” Brett said. “They’re good, down-to-earth people who like me for me, not because my mom’s dating Adrian Diamond. Anyway, why are you so worried about this? Every guy at school loves you. Until this summer, you didn’t know I existed.”

“I tutored you in bio last semester,” Madison said. “I knew you existed. And I always thought we got along well.”

“We did,” Brett agreed. “But only during the tutoring sessions. If your friends were around, you pretended you didn’t know me.”

“That’s not true,” Madison said, even though it was. She remembered one time when Brett had said hi to her in the hall, and Larissa had asked how she knew the loser who slummed it with the public-school kids. Madison had laughed and explained how she was tutoring him, and it was funny he thought that meant they were friends. Then she’d felt terrible for being mean and switched the subject.

“It
is
true,” Brett said. “But besides all that, I’m interested in someone else.”

He had his choice between her and someone else, and he was choosing the other person? This hadn’t happened to her since she had lost twenty-five pounds in the summer before eighth grade. Tears filled her eyes, and she swallowed to make them go away. She should leave now. Get up and go back to join her friends. Damien would be happy to see her.