Diamonds Are Forever

Diamonds Are Forever Michelle Madow It’s cold outside, but the drama is hot!The Diamond sisters jet to the mountains for spring break, and Savannah’s flirt-mance with an international pop star heats up as her pursuit of stardom succeeds. But is this romance meant to be, or has the right guy been in front of her all along? Meanwhile, Courtney takes the next step with her secret boyfriend — and future stepbrother — and as their parents' wedding approaches, the pressure's on to reveal their relationship.Peyton’s figuring out a plan for her future, but she still feels guilty about getting her former bodyguard fired, and wonders if she can get over him in the arms of someone else. But the biggest bombshell will change everything once again, because Madison’s ready to tell the huge secret she’s uncovered. And with the boy who betrayed her but who could be the love of her life fighting for his own life, she might need the Diamond sisters more than ever. It’s cold outside, but the drama is hot! The Diamond sisters jet to the mountains for spring break, and Savannah’s flirt-mance with an international pop star heats up as her pursuit of stardom succeeds. But is this romance meant to be, or has the right guy been in front of her all along? Meanwhile, Courtney takes the next step with her secret boyfriend—and future stepbrother—and as their parents’ wedding approaches, the pressure’s on to reveal their relationship. Peyton’s figuring out a plan for her future, but she still feels guilty about getting her former bodyguard fired and wonders if she can get over him in the arms of someone else. But the biggest bombshell will change everything once again, because Madison’s ready to tell the huge secret she’s uncovered. And with the boy who betrayed her but who could be the love of her life fighting for his own life, she might need the Diamond sisters more than ever. “There’s no easy way to say this.” Adrian looked closely at each of them, as though searching for the right words. He took a deep breath and said, “When Courtney found out about Britney, I promised there would be no more secrets. I wanted to have relationships with you, something that I think has been going well, with the Sundays we’ve spent together and our vacation over winter break.” “Okay...” Courtney’s stomach twisted, feeling as if she wasn’t going to like where he was headed with this. “The Sundays have been going really well,” Savannah added. Adrian managed a tight-lipped smile. “There’s something else you need to know. I didn’t tell you originally because it involves other people. Now they’re ready for you to know—they were actually ready weeks ago—but it was around the same time you found out about Britney.” He directed that last part to Courtney. “I knew how hard that was on you—on all three of you—and I didn’t want to drop anything else on you while you were grieving for your sister. But I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, and keeping this from you is one of them.” “You mean there’s something else you’ve been hiding?” Peyton rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” “This is the last secret,” he said. “I promise.” Praise for Michelle Madow and The Secret Diamond Sisters “The exciting—and often terrifying—exploration of the Vegas strip is tempered by the more relatable plotline of the sisters trying to figure out their past.... Gossip Girl meets The Princess Diaries in a city that never sleeps.” —Booklist “This quick and entertaining read is filled with glitz and glamour. The Vegas setting fascinates. The Diamond sisters are so different that at least one sibling will be completely relatable to readers, making the novel even more fun. Get ready for one crazy and fabulous ride.” —RT Book Reviews “Highly addictive! Hold on tight, because The Secret Diamond Sisters throws you headfirst into the Vegas fast lane. A fun ride not to be missed!” —Rachel Harris, author of My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century Diamonds Are Forever Michelle Madow To Natashya Wilson, for helping me make this series better than I’d ever imagined it could be. I’ve learned so much from you—thank you for your belief in me and the Diamond sisters from the very beginning! Contents Cover (#ufbc0f1f0-2dde-5be1-833c-1145299e9608) Back Cover Text (#u67372880-7d19-5948-8a95-d3e0eb502c3c) Introduction (#udf75e25e-84d7-59f4-a64d-c8cffbdabad4) Praise (#u50965bc9-d750-5000-a052-6db0bf8e24e3) Title Page (#u35b3b208-3c59-511b-9758-b5af251aabd0) Dedication (#ue07b5214-47f7-54b0-9b6e-3af291f9db41) Chapter 1: Savannah (#u7ad51190-673e-5667-9717-b084701d45d4) Chapter 2: Courtney (#u30bf1ba0-9ac7-51c3-a2b0-3a33f32aabf6) Chapter 3: Peyton (#ue6ac5542-feb1-543f-b9f9-08fa9e9ea3fc) Chapter 4: Madison (#u99232012-8541-4025-9a77-bcfeaefdbe6b) Chapter 5: Savannah (#u81da8532-11a8-50c7-ad7d-326ca0bd5f7c) Chapter 6: Courtney (#uf9e0b539-2516-59d2-acde-ad03c9e9491e) Chapter 7: Peyton (#ub68d1c85-d088-5cc0-a8ca-926d83ac1c96) Chapter 8: Madison (#ucca1313a-ba71-429d-a434-54fae02714ae) Chapter 9: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 10: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 11: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 12: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 13: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 14: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 15: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 16: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 17: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 18: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 19: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 20: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 21: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 22: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 23: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 24: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 25: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 26: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 27: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 28: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 29: Savannah (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 30: Courtney (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 31: Peyton (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 32: Madison (#litres_trial_promo) Epilogue: Brianna (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) www.campusbuzz.com High Schools > Nevada > Las Vegas > The Goodman School Happy New Year! Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 1:19 PM Why does the year always feel like it goes by so fast? It seems like just yesterday that we were all starting the fall semester! And I don’t know about you all, but winter break has been amazing, and I’m so not ready for school to start up again. But who would be, after spending Christmas and New Years partying in an exotic location? (Not telling you where, because this IS anonymous! ;) I’m so not ready to get back into school mode. Waking up early, studying...who needs that? At least we have a few days of break left... 1: Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 1:56 PM Been seeing everyone’s pictures from winter break and it’s so not fair you all are doing such fun things while I’ve been stuck here!! Super jealous. 2: Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 2:09 PM don’t spend too much time being jealous—it could be worse! like oliver, who’s been in the hospital for the entire break. I heard he’s all messed up from the car crash and won’t be back at school when it starts up. 3: Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 2:49 PM Apparently Madison’s been at the hospital every minute she can... 4: Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 2:55 PM She must feel guilty, since she got in that huge fight with him at Savannah’s party before he left!!! 5: Posted on Thursday 1/1 at 3:24 PM The accident wasn’t Madison’s fault, and even though I was never friends with Oliver, I do feel bad for him. But the winner for the best new years has gotta be the Diamonds. Have you all seen their pics from rome? Fireworks at the coliseum, popping champagne on the streets . . I’ve gotta get there someday! chapter 1: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) If someone had told Savannah Diamond eight months ago that she would be in a private jet, flying from Las Vegas to LA to meet with a talent agent who wanted to manage her career as a YouTube singer, she wouldn’t have believed them. Because eight months ago, she was living in a tiny apartment in a run-down neighborhood in Fairfield, California, with her two older sisters, Courtney and Peyton, and her mom, whose drinking had spiraled out of control. Then her father (whom she’d never met) had sent Mom to rehab, and Savannah and her sisters had discovered that their father was Adrian Diamond. Yes, that Adrian Diamond—the billionaire who owned multiple hotels in Las Vegas. She and her sisters had been whisked away to live in the penthouse of their father’s newest building on the Las Vegas Strip: The Diamond Hotel and Residences. Their father had been quick to tell them about how Courtney had been kidnapped as an infant, and how their connection to him put them in danger. What he hadn’t told them (and what Courtney had discovered a few weeks ago), was that Courtney had once had a twin sister, Britney, who’d been kidnapped along with Courtney. When their father took too long to pay the ransom, the kidnappers had taken Britney’s life. Adrian had never forgiven himself. Savannah hated that she’d been lied to for so long, but with so many opportunities in front of her, she believed that everything could only get better from here. Mom was out of rehab and was doing better than ever. Her father was finally part of her life, and she was enjoying getting to know him. She loved her new private school—the Goodman School—and for the first time, she fit in with a big group of friends. On top of all that, her YouTube channel was doing better than ever, thanks to the guys in One Connection Tweeting about it during her Sweet Sixteen party. And the hottest of the five of them, Perry Myles, frequently replied to her Tweets and had sent her a few text messages. But while it might sound like something from a fairy tale, everything was still far from perfect. Her best friend from home, Evie, had become jealous of her new life, and they hadn’t spoken since their fight during her Sweet Sixteen. And she still had feelings for Damien Sanders, who was making up for breaking her heart over the summer by helping her develop her YouTube channel. Also, Courtney and Peyton had made Savannah promise that the three of them wouldn’t speak to Mom and Grandma until Courtney was ready, but giving them the silent treatment made Savannah feel so guilty, and she’d only lasted a week before she’d started talking to Mom and Grandma behind her sisters’ backs. Savannah had never broken a promise to her sisters. She hoped they wouldn’t find out, but she feared it would happen eventually, and she’d barely been able to eat since that first phone call to Mom. Mom and Grandma had told Savannah that everything would be all right, and that if Courtney and Peyton found out, they would forgive her. Savannah wasn’t so sure. But right now, she had to relax and mentally prepare for her meeting with the talent agent. She also had to pay attention to Rebecca’s chattering about her upcoming wedding to Adrian. Because while Savannah had been given a lot of freedom since moving to Las Vegas, she was still only sixteen, and Adrian didn’t want her traveling alone (even though she had a personal bodyguard). So he’d sent her future stepmother, Rebecca, along. Which, of course, meant wedding talk. The wedding was already being dubbed “The Upcoming Wedding of the Year: A Romance to Rival William and Kate’s,” and Adrian and Rebecca were being called “The Duke and Duchess of Vegas” in tabloids everywhere. “What do you think—matching bridesmaid dresses, or each of you picking a color and style that suits you?” Rebecca played with her huge heart-shaped engagement ring, which was apparently worth over a million dollars. “Courtney, Peyton and I have such different styles. But don’t bridesmaids wear matching dresses?” “Most of the time,” Rebecca said. “But I’m grateful that you and your sisters agreed to be bridesmaids, so I want to consider your opinions.” “I would pick blue,” Savannah said, smoothing out her blue silk top. “It’s my favorite because it matches my eyes. But watch out if you give Peyton a choice. The only color she wears is black—if that even counts as a color.” “Since it’s going to be a bright spring wedding, I certainly don’t plan on having my bridesmaids wear black.” Rebecca smiled and checked her watch. “Anyway, we’re almost there. Are you excited?” “I’m nervous.” Savannah bounced her knees and looked out the window. They were no longer flying over desert, but dense clusters of houses—they must be getting closer to the city. “What if I mess up while talking to her, or she doesn’t like me?” “Just relax and be yourself,” Rebecca said. “She’s going to love you.” “It sounds easy when you say it like that.” Savannah sighed. “But this is Lynda Caine—agent to some of the top YouTube stars all over the country. My mind will go blank the second I walk into her office.” “She wouldn’t have invited you to meet with her if she wasn’t serious about taking you on as a client,” Rebecca reminded her. “This meeting is a formality. You’ve got this, Savannah.” Savannah took a deep breath. When Rebecca put it that way, it didn’t sound as intimidating. But that didn’t stop her nerves from feeling like they might burst. This was Savannah’s one chance, and she refused to mess it up. * * * “So that’s the basics,” Lynda Caine said from behind her desk. She looked so pristine in her beige suit, her hair pulled into a delicate top bun, and she looked Savannah straight in the eyes. “I’ll want your cover songs up on iTunes, and for you to make joint videos with my other clients. Emily Nicole’s told me how much she loves your videos, and that you chat on Twitter, so the two of you could make a great team. I’ll also find brands to pitch you to for possible sponsorships—we’ll get an idea of the demographics following you online to figure out where to book live shows, and I’m going to push for you to perform at VidCon this summer. How does all that sound?” “It sounds amazing,” Savannah said, breathless. “I love Emily Nicole’s channel, so doing a video with her would be awesome. And I’ve always wanted to perform at VidCon.” She tapped her fingers against her legs, glancing at Rebecca for confirmation. Rebecca had to say yes. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. How could she turn it down? “And eventually Savannah will work with a cowriter and record original songs?” Rebecca asked. Savannah clenched her fists, wishing Rebecca hadn’t brought that up. Yes, it had always been her dream to record an album of her own. But that would never happen if Lynda decided her family was too pushy and didn’t sign her because of it. “That will come in time.” Lynda smiled brightly. “But as I said earlier, first we need to get Savannah a secure enough following through her YouTube cover songs. She already has a healthy number of fans on YouTube, Twitter and Instagram, but those fans need to develop trust in her brand, and feel like they know her as a person. Once we see a bigger boost in Savannah’s social media following, we’ll record original songs.” “Perfect,” Savannah jumped in, not wanting Rebecca to have another chance to mess this up. “I’ve been trying my best on Twitter and Instagram and everything—thanks to a good friend who helped me. But let me know anything else you want me to do on social media, and I will.” “Are you referring to Perry Myles from One Connection?” Lynda leaned forward, her eyes hungry. “Perry helped me a lot when he Tweeted about my channel,” she said, since it was the truth. “But it was a guy from my school—Damien—who helped me at first. Way before anyoneheard about my channel, Damien had all these great ideas for me to spread word online. My YouTube channel would be nowhere without him.” Lynda raised an eyebrow. “Is Damien your boyfriend?” “No.” Savannah swallowed and looked down at her hands. “He’s just a friend.” “And Perry...?” she asked. “In your segment on My Fabulous Sweet Sixteen, it looked like there might be something between you two.” “Seriously?” Savannah laughed. “No way. I mean, we Tweet and text sometimes, but he’s one of the most famous people in the world. He could have any girl he wanted.” “And if that girl were you?” Lynda asked. “Being seen with Perry would be excellent publicity. You know how much his appearance at your party helped your channel—now imagine that tenfold.” She paused, which gave Savannah just enough time to imagine Perry getting out of a limo at the Grammys—­with her by his side. “That’s what would happen if you pursued this opportunity.” Savannah’s eyes widened. It was beyond cool whenever she saw a Tweet or text from Perry, since he was so famous that she’d never imagined he would know she existed. But he wasn’t truly interested in her. Was he? “Perry’s cool and all,” Savannah said. “But it would never work between us.” Lynda smiled, as if she knew something Savannah didn’t. “Why do you say that?” “Because...” She pressed her lips together, not wanting to say the first thought she had—that pursuing something with Perry would wreck the chance of anything happening between her and Damien. “He lives in a different country. And he’s on a world tour, so we can’t even see each other. Not that it matters, since we barely know each other.” “I thought the two of you Tweeted and texted?” “It’s just chitchat,” Savannah said. “He’s not interested in me. And even if he was, I follow gossip sites, so I know his reputation. He never dates anyone for longer than a few weeks, if that.” “You can’t give those sites too much credit,” Lynda said. “Yes, Perry’s an international superstar, but he’s only seventeen. You can’t fault him for not having had a long-term relationship yet. And the two of you looked like you really clicked on your segment of My Fabulous Sweet Sixteen.” “It was my party, and he was paid to be there,” she said. “Of course he was nice to me.” “You said yourself that he’s stayed in contact with you since the party,” Lynda said. “Was he paid to do that, too?” “No,” Savannah admitted. “But he’s just being friendly. He has his choice of every girl in the world. Why would he pick me?” “You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Lynda said. “You keep coming up with reasons why it wouldn’t work, but how do you know if you don’t give it a try?” “I guess I don’t.” Savannah shrugged. “Exactly,” Lynda said. “The One Connection world tour breaks in March. You could try seeing Perry again during that break, and in the meantime, get to know him better over the phone. The exposure could really help your career.” Savannah froze, not sure what to say. Because Perry wasn’t the guy she was interested in—he wasn’t the one she thought about all the time, wondering what it would be like if they ever dated. That guy was Damien. Unfortunately, ever since her disastrous crush on him last summer, Damien had put her in the permanent “friend-zone.” “If Savannah’s not interested in pursuing a relationship with Perry Myles, then she’s not interested,” Rebecca interrupted. “I thought we were here to discuss a media contract—not Savannah’s social life.” “Networking is an important part of being successful,” Lynda said. “Savannah asked if there was anything she could do that would help her career. My biggest suggestion right now is to pursue this connection with Perry Myles. But if you don’t want to take my advice...” “I’ll do it.” The words burst from Savannah’s mouth, and she sat straighter, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. She was not losing this chance. “If you want me to get to know Perry better and see him in March, then I’ll do everything I can to make it happen. I promise.” “All I ask is that you try.” Lynda pulled a few papers out from a drawer in her desk and handed them over to Rebecca. “This contract outlines everything we’ve discussed. I’ll need both of you to sign—assuming you’re Savannah’s official guardian?” “I won’t be until the wedding.” Rebecca flipped through the pages. “Right now her official guardian is her father, Adrian Diamond. He’ll want to have his lawyer look this over before he or Savannah signs anything.” Savannah deflated and sat back in her chair. What if in the time between now and the lawyer reading it, Lynda decided she didn’t want to represent her anymore? “Can I sign it now?” She held up the pen, ready to go. “Then we can bring it home and Adrian can sign it when he’s ready?” “Adrian wants you to wait,” Rebecca said. “Nothing’s going to change in the next few days.” Savannah crossed her arms and frowned, but she didn’t want to argue with Rebecca in front of Lynda. Adrian’s signature was the one that mattered, anyway. Rebecca plucked one of Lynda’s cards from the holder on her desk and added, “Adrian’s lawyer will contact you if he has any questions.” “Of course,” Lynda said. “I look forward to working with you.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Lynda’s assistant led them out of the building, where the limo was waiting. Savannah slid inside after Rebecca, feeling like she was able to breathe for the first time since waking up that morning. “You have an offer of representation.” Rebecca did a little shimmy dance with her shoulders as she buckled her seat belt. “Aren’t you excited?” “I would be if the contract was signed.” Savannah leaned against the door and huffed. “But that went totally awful.” “Why do you think that?” Rebecca’s hands went straight to her pearls—she seemed honestly surprised. “I thought it went well.” “Except that you kept giving Lynda a hard time,” Savannah said. “Now she probably thinks we’re too much trouble and will change her mind about representing me.” “I wasn’t giving her a hard time,” Rebecca said, soft and steady. “I was looking out for your best interests. It’s routine to ask questions in a meeting like that, and then have a lawyer look over a contract. But Lynda wants to represent you. She wouldn’t have offered you the contract otherwise. Although...” She paused, and Savannah had a feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever Rebecca was going to say next. “I’m worried about what she said about Perry Myles. You shouldn’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Savannah said. “Perry was nice to me at my party, and he’s been nice to me ever since.” “You did seem to get along well,” Rebecca agreed. “But are you really interested in him, or were you saying what you thought Lynda wanted to hear?” “Who wouldn’t be interested in Perry Myles?” Savannah smiled, trying to shrug it off. “I just never thought I had a chance. But Lynda’s right—I should try harder to reach out to him.” Plus, if Savannah told Rebecca that she was worried because she didn’t want to mess up her non-relationship with Damien, then Rebecca might tell Lynda, and Lynda might second-guess how devoted Savannah was to her career. Besides, Damien and Perry didn’t know each other. If Savannah tried harder with Perry, and nothing came of it, Damien would never know. And if she tried harder and something did come from it...well, she doubted that would happen. If it did, she would deal with it then. Worry crossed over Rebecca’s eyes, and Savannah’s heart raced. Was she not convincing enough? Maybe she should change the subject. “I can’t wait to shoot a video with Emily Nicole,” she said. “I’ve been a fan of hers for years, and her channel is huge. She seems like a really fun person, too.” “I’m glad you’re excited,” Rebecca said. “And I’m sorry you thought I wasn’t on your side in there. But I hope you know that I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.” “Which is signing that contract with Lynda.” Savannah squared her shoulders, looking Rebecca straight in the eye. “And unless there’s something seriously wrong in that contract, that’s exactly what’s going to happen,” she said. “How about we have a big family dinner tonight to celebrate?” “So this is really happening?” Savannah asked. “I’m a real singer with an agent?” “You’ve always been a ‘real singer.’” Rebecca smiled. “But yes, it’s really happening.” “Then I have to text Courtney and Peyton.” She grabbed her phone and told them in a group message. They didn’t respond right away, so she opened her text chain with Damien and shared the news with him. CONGRATS!!!he replied back immediately. Let’s grab hot chocolate at the Lobby Bar when you get back, so you can tell me everything? :) Savannah smiled at the thought of seeing Damien, and she told him she would let him know when she landed. She was about to put her phone away when she remembered Lynda’s advice—get to know Perry better. A text right now would be a good start. She opened her texts with Perry. The last message she’d sent was a picture of her at the Coliseum with her sisters, wishing him a Happy New Year from Rome. He’d texted her back from NYC, with a picture of him and his One Connection bandmate Noel in their hotel room, looking over at the crowd they were getting ready to perform to in a few hours for New Year’s Rockin’ Eve at Times Square. He was so famous, and she was an amateur. But she drafted what she would say to him, anyway. Hey! Just got out of a meeting at Caine Talent—Lynda Caine offered me a contract!! I know you’re probably busy with your tour, but your tweeting about my channel is a huge reason why this happened, so I wanted to share the news and thank you again :) She stared at the text without sending it. She hadn’t even gotten something big, like a record deal. It was just representation. Something Perry probably got years ago. But everyone had to start somewhere, right? And Lynda had told her to try connecting more with Perry. So she held her breath, and pressed Send. chapter 2: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) Courtney couldn’t believe that Brett had talked her into watching the first three episodes of The Walking Dead. They were halfway through episode two, and the blood and gore was so not up her alley. He pulled her closer, his arm fitting perfectly around her shoulders, and she snuggled into his side. “Is the show growing on you?” he asked, his green eyes sparkling. The way he looked at her warmed her heart every time—as if he cared about her more than anyone else in the world. “Not really,” she said, smiling in apology. “But I was just thinking about how I could get payback by making you watch the first three episodes of Downton Abbey.” He reached for the remote and pressed Pause. “We can turn it off,” he said. “There are tons of other shows we can marathon. Have you ever seen Lost?” “Nope.” Courtney was really more of a reader than a TV-watcher—especially since they hadn’t had cable in their apartment in Fairfield, California. She’d been at work when most shows were on, anyway. “But I’ll give it a shot if it means more time spent with you.” “You have no idea how hard it was to pretend like you’re only my friend when we were in Italy,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I do have an idea.” She leaned closer to him and tilted her head up, her stomach fluttering at how there were only inches between them. “I loved Italy, and it’s great that Adrian’s so happy with your mom, but keeping away from you because our parents were watching drove me absolutely crazy.” “Not as crazy as it drove me,” he teased, brushing his nose against hers. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Her gaze locked on his, her breath catching in anticipation of kissing him. After only a few seconds of restraint, he lowered his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart beating wildly as she kissed him back, feeling as if her body would melt into his. She wished she could feel this happy forever. Then her cell buzzed, and she pulled back to rest her forehead against his. She glared at her phone. Reaching for it meant moving away from Brett, and she didn’t want to do that. “Whoever it is can wait,” he murmured, burying his fingers in her hair and bringing his lips to hers again. She closed her eyes, losing herself in his touch, wanting to take advantage of their time alone. But eventually, she found the strength to break away. “It could be Savannah telling me how it went with that agent,” she said. “She was so excited before leaving this morning... I have to see if it’s her.” “I know.” He brushed his lips against hers, softer this time, and she leaned back into him. He was so intoxicating that she wanted to forget the rest of the world existed. But he untangled himself from her arms, reached for her phone and handed it to her. “The sooner you check, the sooner we can get back to where we left off.” “Right.” Courtney’s hand shook as she unlocked her phone and tapped the message icon. Just as she’d thought, the text was from Savannah. The agent offered me a contract!! Just need dad’s lawyer to look it over so he can sign it, and then it’s official! Family dinner tonight to celebrate :) “Well?” Brett asked. “Good news, I hope?” “She was offered a contract,” Courtney said as she texted Savannah back, congratulating her. “We’re doing a family dinner tonight to celebrate.” “And you don’t sound thrilled because...you’ll have to hold off on talking to Peyton about that college application you filled out for her?” “You got it.” She put her phone on vibrate and tossed it in her bag. “I was ready to talk with her about it tonight, but now that we’ll be celebrating, I don’t want to ruin Savannah’s good mood. I guess it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. And you know how much Peyton hates the idea of going to college, so I want to get it over with.” “What’s the worst she can do?” Brett asked. “I don’t know.” Courtney shrugged. “Tell our parents that we’re together?” “She wouldn’t do that,” he said. “She was egging me on to make a move on you the whole time we were in Italy. So was Savannah. Your sisters are our biggest fans.” “If only Adrian and your mom would see what they see,” she mused, tracing her fingers along his palms. “It would be so much easier.” “We could always try to tell them again.” He spoke faster, as if the idea excited him. “Our parents are getting married in a few months. So we can’t hide this from them forever. And once they realize that we’ve been together for a few weeks, and how well things are going, they’ll have to support us. That was our plan when we decided to go for this, right?” “I guess.” Courtney’s stomach dropped from thinking about it. “But honestly, I think the chances are higher that Peyton will decide she wants to go to college.” “I doubt that,” he said. “You filled out Peyton’s application for her. Most people would love to have someone do that. I don’t think she’ll be as mad as you think.” “You don’t know her as well as I do,” she said. “She’ll probably yell at me, tell me I have no right to try controlling her future and delete the application.” He raised an eyebrow. “And would that be the first time Peyton’s ever yelled at you?” “No.” She laughed. “Good point. And I did back the application up on the cloud.” “Then you’ll be fine.” He pulled her close again, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her heart feel like it was going to beat out of her chest. “Now, where were we before we got interrupted?” “Right about here...” Courtney leaned into him and pressed her lips to his once more. It wasn’t long before he’d lowered her onto the couch, every inch of his body on hers. Her heart thumped harder. She’d never been this close to him before—but it felt so right that she didn’t want to stop. Someone knocked on the door. Brett bolted off her, his eyes panicked as he straightened his shirt. Courtney glanced at the door, sure she must look as confused as he did. “It’s probably Peyton.” She sat up and ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to smooth it. She hoped it was Peyton. Because her lips felt swollen, and her cheeks felt flushed—she would bet that anyone would know from looking at her and Brett what had just been going on between them. Whoever it was knocked again. “Brett? Courtney?” Adrian’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you two in there?” Brett grabbed a textbook from the coffee table and opened it on his lap. “We’re studying, right?” he said softly to Courtney, his voice surprisingly calm—as if they hadn’t just been having a heavy make-out session on the couch. “Of course.” She gathered up a pile of flash cards and shuffled through them. It was good that she was so paranoid about having a cover story about hanging out with Brett. Plus, she really had wanted to get some studying done for their upcoming quiz in AP History. She’d just gotten...distracted. Brett took a sip of water from the glass on the end table and lounged back on the couch. “Yeah, we’re in here,” he called back to Adrian. They heard a key card slide into the slot, then Adrian opened the door and strolled into Brett’s penthouse. As always, he wore a perfectly fitted navy suit, his blond hair slicked back as if he’d just come out of an important business meeting. But there was something different about him today. Usually he was a mask of calm—Courtney often had a rough time deciphering what was going on in his mind—but today, he seemed to be...glowing. He even grabbed a few M&M’s from the bowl Brett kept in the foyer, which was surprising, since he rarelyate sweets. “Peyton told me you would be here,” he said, popping an M&M into his mouth. He glanced at the open textbook, then scrutinized the foot of space left on the couch between them. “She did?” Courtney leaned even farther away from Brett, holding her flash cards so tightly that they bent. How could Peyton have told Adrian where to find her without warning her first? Did she want Courtney and Brett to get caught? “Yes, she did.” Adrian looked back and forth between them. “She said you were studying.” “That’s right,” Brett jumped in. “Sorry we didn’t answer when you knocked the first time. Courtney’s pretty intense when she studies, and she didn’t want to ruin her concentration until she finished reciting the answer to one of the short essay questions.” “I got it right,” she squeaked, holding up a flash card as “proof.” “I’m not surprised, judging by your excellent grades last semester,” Adrian said. “I didn’t expect your transition to Goodman to go as well as it did. Your report card was impressive.” “Thank you.” Courtney smiled, but when she looked down at her flash cards, guilt flooded her chest. She was proud of her grades last semester, but she hadto keep them up if she wanted to get into Stanford. And if she kept making out with Brett instead of studying, that wasn’t going to happen. “Anyway, as proud as I am about your grades, that isn’t why I came in here,” Adrian said, situating himself in one of the chairs in the living room. “I have some good news.” “Cool.” Brett closed the textbook and placed it on the coffee table. “What’s up?” “I just got back from seeing the Prescotts at the hospital,” he said. “With everything that’s happened to Oliver, Logan’s been doing a lot of thinking recently, and he and I had the longest conversation we’ve had since the fallout at the grand opening last summer.” Courtney’s eyes lowered at the mention of the grand opening. Because the “fallout”—when Logan had decided he didn’t want to be business partners with Adrian for a major hotel they’d been planning in Macau—had been partly her fault. “How’s Oliver doing?” Courtney asked. She wanted to get the talk away from the grand opening, but she also truly wanted an update. She might not like Oliver, but she wouldn’t wish what had happened to him on anyone. “He’s recovering,” Adrian said. “His worst injury was his knee, but the surgery went well, and he should be able to walk on it soon. It seems that his biggest challenge is psychological. Logan wouldn’t give me all the details, but it’s clear that alcohol and drugs were why Oliver got into that accident. He’s getting treatment, and is refusing to see anyone but his immediate family members.” “Not even Madison?” Courtney wasn’t Madison’s biggest fan, either, but apparently Oliver had left Savannah’s party while drunk because of a huge fight with Madison. If Madison hadn’t seen Oliver since that night, she must be a wreck. “Are you friends with Madison?” Adrian looked taken aback, but it took him only a second to compose himself. “I’ve never seen you spend time with her.” “We have a lot of the same classes, and we’re both student tutors,” she said. “I’m not exactly friends with her, but I know she cares about Oliver.” “Logan didn’t mention her, but since Oliver’s only seen his immediate family, I’m guessing that doesn’t include Madison.” Adrian clasped his hands in his lap. “Anyway, Oliver’s expected to make a full recovery, so everyone’s grateful for that. But as I mentioned, Logan and I had a heart-to-heart this morning. After the scare he had with Oliver—especially in that first week, when the doctors weren’t sure if he was going to make it—he apparently had a ‘revelation.’ He said he was hypocritical in judging my family, especially when Oliver has more troubles than any of you, and apologized for breaking off our partnership.” He paused, glancing at Brett. “Logan said his snapping point was that black eye you gave Oliver before the midnight ribbon cutting—” “Oliver was being a dick,” Brett said, clenching his fists. “If you knew what happened, you would have wanted to punch him, too.” “I don’t doubt it.” Adrian chuckled. “But that’s no way to work through a problem, and Rebecca was right to have grounded you for the rest of summer. I’m just glad there haven’t been any reoccurrences of that behavior.” “It’s the only time I’ve ever punched someone,” Brett said. “I think my hand was as bruised as Oliver’s face.” “I don’t suppose you want to share why you punched him?” “It doesn’t matter now,” Courtney jumped in. “It happened months ago. It’s over.” No way was she telling Adrian about Oliver’s bet to sleep with her and her sisters before the end of summer—and that he’d succeeded with Peyton and had been trying to make moves on Courtney, too. “Well, I hope you’ll work past your differences with Oliver,” Adrian said. “Or at least be civil with him. Because Logan’s revisiting the idea of us collaborating for the super hotel in Macau. If this goes through—which, judging from the way he was talking about it, it seems like it will—it should be our most successful hotel to date.” “That’s amazing.” Courtney smiled. She’d felt guilty about what had happened last summer, but she’d figured there was no fixing it, so she’d stopped dwelling on it. Now, relief flooded her veins that she hadn’t messed everything up after all. “Yes, it is,” Adrian said. “We’ll have two things to celebrate tonight—Savannah’s offer from that agent, and the new hotel in Macau. Anyway, I have some phone calls to make, but I’ll see you at dinner at eight at the Five Diamond.” “Sounds good,” Courtney said. “Congrats again,” Brett added. “When you talked about the plans for the hotel last year, it sounded like it’ll be awesome.” “It certainly will be.” Adrian stood and headed for the door, flashing them one last smile. “Now I’ll let you get back to that studying.” Once he was gone, Courtney let out a long breath and leaned back on the couch. “That was close,” she said. “What was Peyton thinking, sending Adrian in here without warning us? I’m seriously going to strangle her.” She stomped over to her bag and grabbed her cell, her chest heated. She immediately saw two missed calls and three texts, all from Peyton. 1: Adrian just came over here and wants to talk to u! I told him ur at Brett’s studying...so be sure ur STUDYING! ;) 2: PICK UP YOUR CELL!! I tried to delay him, but he’s going to Brett’s and I know ur prob NOT studying! 3: If you get caught, this SO isn’t my fault. “What happened?” Brett asked. “You’re staring at your phone with the same horrified look you get whenever a zombie pops out on The Walking Dead.” “I am such an idiot!” Courtney threw her phone onto the couch and paced around the room. “I let my guard down, and we almost got caught. What if Adrian had come in here without knocking? Do you know how much trouble we would be in?” “Relax.” He stood and held her hands in his, steadying her. “Adrian and my mom always knock. It was close, but we were fine. He believed the studying cover-up.” Courtney glanced guiltily at the flash cards. “It shouldn’t have had to be a cover-up,” she said. “Because we have that quiz in AP history about our winter-break reading, and I’ve barely reviewed for it. I needed to spend the afternoon studying. Instead, you talked me into watching that TV show.” “I thought we were having fun hanging out,” he said softly. “I wasn’t trying to mess up your studying.” “Well, we didn’t get any studying done, and now we have that dinner tonight that’ll probably take forever.” She gathered her flash cards and textbook and shoved them into her bag. “You can ace a test by cramming the night before, but I’ve never been able to do that. And we’re about to start second semester junior year. I can’t let my grades drop. Especially since my PSAT scores weren’t as high as I wanted them to be.” “Courtney.” Brett wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You’re right. If you want to study now, we’ll study, okay? I don’t want to distract you from doing well in school—I know how much your grades matter to you.” She closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms, wishing they could go back to ten minutes ago—before Adrian had almost busted them, when she wasn’t thinking about anything except wanting to be with Brett. But she couldn’t do that. So she spun to face him, gathering the courage to say what she needed. “It’s more than my grades,” she said, forcing each word out. “You heard Adrian—that big hotel deal with Logan is back on again. I can’t mess it up for him a second time.” “We won’t mess it up,” Brett said, his gaze steady. “Because this whole thing with Adrian and my mom not wanting us to be together is stupid. We care about each other, and no matter how much they don’t want us to feel that way, we can’t ignore it. We shouldn’t have to pretend anymore.” “So what do you want to do?” she asked. “Tell them the truth.” “Just like that?” She shook her head, amazed by how easy he made it sound. “I know we were planning on telling them eventually, but now that the hotel deal is back on again, it changes everything. And I can’t get distracted this semester and let my grades drop.” “What are you saying?” He dropped his arms to his sides. “You don’t want us to be together anymore?” “After trying to keep my distance from you last semester, I know that won’t work,” she said. “But I do need time to think. And to study. Alone.” “Are you sure?” He reached for her, and before she could process what was happening, he was kissing her again, so softly, as if begging her to stay. Her heart jumped, and she kissed him back, but only for a few seconds before pulling away. When she looked into his eyes, so full of how much he cared for her, she wished everything wasn’t so complicated. But her family was counting on her—to be responsible, to get good grades, to follow the rules, to be the good example. And more important, she expected those things of herself. “I’m sure,” she choked out. “But I don’t trust myself to get any studying done if I stay here, and I need to be ready for that quiz. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry.” He traced her cheek with his fingers, and it took all her willpower not to lean into him and kiss him again. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?” “Okay.” She zipped her bag closed, picked it up, and headed for the door. When she turned to have one more look at him, he still stood there, watching her, as if waiting for her to change her mind. Part of her wanted to throw her stuff on the ground and resume where things had left off before Adrian interrupted them. But the bag of textbooks weighed on her back, reminding her about how much studying she had to do before dinner. “See you tonight,” she said softly, letting herself out. The door closed behind her, and she leaned against it, taking in a deep breath. Even though they would see each other tonight, nothing could happen, because it would be a family dinner. Meaning they would have to pretend that everything between them—the depth of how much they cared for each other—didn’t exist at all. chapter 3: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) After getting back from Savannah’s celebration dinner, Peyton lay down on her bed and glared at the calendar pinned on her wall. There were less than twenty-four hours until the end of winter break. Sure, the Goodman School wasn’t as torturous as Fairfield High, but she still didn’t like sitting in classes all day or want to be there. Especially after all the fun she’d had in Italy. She clicked on Dante Lazzaro’s Facebook page for the hundredth time since returning home and scrolled through the pictures they’d taken together. Dante was the son of the owners of the resort they’d stayed in while in Tuscany. He was gorgeous and only a year older than her, and they’d hit it off immediately. But he was only a vacation fling. She’d been with him mainly to help her get over Jackson—her bodyguard, whom she’d fallen for over the past few months, and had stupidly managed to get fired because she kept pushing him to give in to his feelings for her. It had all gone to hell on Thanksgiving Day, when she’d found out about her mom keeping the secret about Courtney’s twin sister, Britney. Peyton had gone to Jackson to talk. Once he saw how red her eyes were from crying, he’d taken her to a dive hotel on the Strip, where no one should have known who she was, so they could talk privately. They’d ended up admitting their feelings for each other, and some tourists had taken pictures of them having a clearly romantic conversation while drinking beers. Adrian had seen the pictures, fired Jackson, and told them they couldn’t see each other anymore. Jackson had gone back to his home in Nebraska. The last Peyton had heard from him was that he “needed space so he could get his life back on track.” She hadn’t wanted to be clingy and force him to talk to her, but it had been almost a month, and she missed him so much that it left a hole aching in her chest. Not knowing what else to do, she’d tried getting over him by spending time with Dante in Italy. But Dante didn’t look at her the way Jackson did—like he could see through her protective shield and straight to her core. Dante was supposed to help her get over Jackson, but he’d made her miss Jackson even more. She shouldn’t do it—she would only be torturing herself—but she typed Jackson’s name into Facebook and clicked on his profile. She’d added him about two weeks ago, and his page still taunted her with the box that said Friend Request Sent. She slouched over her computer, staring hopelessly at the screen. His page had such intense privacy settings that all she could see was his profile picture of him and his family hanging out at a lake. Maybe she should send him a message. She bit her lip, hovering her mouse over the message button. She just wanted to make sure she hadn’t completely wrecked his future. If she had, and if he never wanted to speak to her again, she would rather he tell her. It would be better than this awful silence. Then someone knocked on her door, and she clicked off his Facebook page. “Peyton?” Courtney opened the door a crack. “Can I come in?” “Sure.” Peyton shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed. “What’s up?” Courtney walked inside, clutching a red pocket folder to her chest, and sat down on the bed. She chewed her bottom lip, a telltale sign that she was nervous. “What’s in the folder?” Peyton prompted. “A college application for UNLV.” Courtney gingerly placed the folder down, unable to meet Peyton’s eyes. Peyton heaved a giant sigh and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’m not going to college,” she said. “Shoving forms in my face and asking me to fill them out won’t change my mind.” “I’m not asking you to do anything,” Courtney said. “I filled it out for you. It’s all saved online—I made you an account—­but I printed it so you can see what I did.” “You did what?” “I filled out a college application for you,” she repeated. “For UNLV. I knew you wouldn’t do it yourself, and your SAT scores from when Adrian and Rebecca forced you to take the test were good.” “My SAT scores were average,” Peyton said. “Slightly above average,” Courtney corrected her. “And UNLV is a good school, but it isn’t Harvard or anything, so above average is fine, especially since you don’t need a scholarship. And your grades have improved at Goodman. With a good essay, they might accept you.” “I knew there had to be a catch.” Peyton laughed, stretched her legs out, and leaned back into her pillows. “I’m not writing a college essay today. Or ever.” “I’m not asking you to,” Courtney said. “Like I said, I completed the application for you.” “You wrote my essay?” Peyton smirked. “Isn’t that breaking some kind of rule?” “Don’t tell anyone.” Courtney took a deep breath and glanced at the door, as if afraid someone would overhear. “But yes. I wrote your essay. And it’s pretty good.” She pushed the folder closer to Peyton. “At least take a look. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Unable to resist, Peyton picked up the folder and opened it. One side held the boring form with all her information filled out, and the other held an essay. She took it out and skimmed through it. It was about how switching to Goodman, where she received individualized attention from teachers who cared, opened her eyes to the “joys of learning.” This was proven by evidence of how her grades had improved in the past semester. The majority of the essay consisted of trying to convince the applications committee to look past her below-average grades from Fairfield High and see potential in what she could do in the future. Courtney had even written that Peyton wanted to be an education major so she could positively influence students the same way her teachers at Goodman had influenced her, going as far as listing three courses offered at UNLV and saying that Peyton couldn’t wait to take them. If Peyton had been an admissions person, she would have believed it. “It’s good, right?” Courtney asked. “I guess.” Peyton placed the essay back inside the folder. “Except that I don’t want to go to college, and I definitely don’t want to be an education major. I can’t wait to get out of school. Why would I major in something that would keep me in a school for the rest of my life?” She shuddered. “That sounds awful.” “You’re not declaring your major in your admissions essay,” Courtney said. “This is just to convince them to let you in. Once you’re in, you can choose not to declare your major, and take your general requirements until you figure out what you like best.” “But I don’t want to go to college...” Why couldn’t Courtney get this through her head? “Applying doesn’t mean you have to go,” she said quickly. “I’ve done all the work for you. Just give me permission to click Send, and we’ll see what happens.” Peyton opened her mouth to protest, but Courtney continued. “If anything, do it for me,” she said. “This is practice for my own college applications. If I can get you in, I should be able to get myself in somewhere, right?” “So let me get this straight,” Peyton said. “This is a game for you to see if you can get me into college? And if I get in, you won’t care when I don’t go?” “Exactly.” Courtney nodded. “So you’ll do it?” “You’ll send it even if I say no, so fine, I’ll do it,” Peyton said. “As long as you promise not to bug me about going if I get in.” “Deal.” Courtney bounced on the bed. “There’s only one small thing you have to do, and then it’ll be ready to send.” Peyton braced herself. Of course there had to be a catch. “What’s that?” “You need to get a teacher to write you a recommendation.” Peyton paused, waiting for Courtney to say she was kidding. But her sister’s serious expression didn’t change. “What teacher is going to recommend me for college?” she asked. “The other students at school care about college applications. I don’t. My teachers know that.” “What about Ms. Mandina?” Courtney said. “Your astronomy teacher—the one who helped you study for that test you did well on. She sees your potential. All you have to do is approach her after class and ask her if she would mind writing you a recommendation.” “And get her excited because she thinks I suddenly want to go to college?” Peyton crossed her arms. “I don’t think so. What if she wants to have some long talk with me about how happy she is that I’m changing my mind? She’ll know I don’t mean it.” “Just tell her the truth,” Courtney said. “That my sister filled out my application for me, wrote my essay, and is using this as a practice run for her own applications next year?” “Definitely don’t tell her that.” Courtney shook her head. “But let her know that you’re giving yourself an option, and you’ll see what happens when you hear back from the school. It’s not a lie. You can even talk to her after class when you know she has another class coming in next, so you won’t be stuck talking to her for too long. Please?” Courtney widened her eyes, as if begging Peyton to give in. Peyton wanted to say no, but Courtney had gone through such a hard time after learning about Britney. If filling out a college application was keeping her mind off the twin sister she’d never gotten to know, then so be it. “Fine, I’ll do it,” Peyton said. “But remember—this is just so you can see how you did on my application. Even if I get in, I’m not going.” “Great!” Courtney beamed and clapped her hands. “Once you get the recommendation, forward it to me and I’ll upload it to your account.” “Will do,” Peyton said, unable to muster up much enthusiasm. “Great,” Courtney said. “But anyway, Rebecca’s coming over in five minutes to talk about bridesmaid dresses. You ready?” “Tell me again why I agreed to do this?” “Because Rebecca begged us to be bridesmaids on New Year’s Eve during that ridiculously long six-course meal before the fireworks, and she wouldn’t give up until we said yes? And because maybeyou’re realizing that she’s not as awful as you originally thought?” “I never thought she was awful,” Peyton said. “Just annoying. She tells us how to dress, how to act, and wants to pick out our outfits for events...” She scrunched her nose. “I know she’ll technically be our stepmother, but that doesn’t mean she needs to act all motherly towards us. She knows our mom never did that, so why would we want her to?” “How would you prefer her to act?” Courtney asked. “I don’t know.” Peyton shrugged. “Normal?” “Well, that was descriptive.” Sarcasm leaked through Courtney’s tone. “She’s trying to reach out to us. And she’s excited for the wedding.” “Excited?” Peyton raised an eyebrow. “More like obsessed. If I had to hear, ‘That’s so cute, we need to have something like it at the wedding!’ one more time when we were in Italy, I might have lost it.” “She’s about to have a princess fairy-tale wedding come true,” Courtney said. “It’s every woman’s dream. You can’t blame her for talking about it.” “It’s her dream,” Peyton corrected. “After being forced to hear about all this wedding stuff, I decided that if I get married, I’m going to elope.” The doorbell rang, and Peyton groaned, not wanting to get up. Then Rebecca’s voice echoed through the hall—she must have used her key to let herself in. “Girls? Are you in here?” she asked. “You remembered the appointment about the dresses, right?” “Come on,” Courtney said, pulling Peyton off the bed. “Weddings are romantic. It won’t kill you to pretend to be interested.” Peyton wasn’t sure about that, especially since her romantic life had dwindled to staring at a computer screen, wishing Jackson would accept her Facebook friend request. It was probably a good thing that Courtney had walked in before she’d sent him that message. In the living room, Rebecca was already showing Savannah a binder of color swatches, and her wedding planner was holding gold fabric up to Savannah’s face. “You’re not making us wear gold, are you?” Peyton asked. “I hate gold.” “It’s one of the colors I’m considering,” Rebecca said. “If there’s another you’d prefer, just let me know.” “How about black?” Peyton doubted Rebecca would go for it, but it was worth trying. “It goes with everything.” Savannah laughed and shared a smile with Rebecca, as if there was some inside joke Peyton didn’t know about. This was going to be a long, torturous afternoon. Scratch that. It would probably get worse every day until the wedding was finally over. It was going to be a long, torturous next few months. chapter 4: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) Madison Lockhart had been a walking disaster ever since Oliver’s accident. She’d let Oliver leave Savannah’s party early, knowing he was drunk and about to drive, because she’d been too upset over learning about a bet he’d made to stop him. A better person would have stopped him. But she’d been crying in the bathroom while Oliver was speeding through a red light, getting his Maserati convertible totaled by an SUV. She’d spent most of her time over break in the hospital waiting to see him. But once he’d woken up from his coma, Oliver had refused to have visitors who weren’t family. Meaning he wouldn’t see Madison. Now, after going through the first day of school without him, she’d had enough. She had to see him. And she refused to take no for an answer. At least that’s what she told herself as she marched through the hospital doors, her long dark hair snapping behind her, her huge Versace sunglasses covering her eyes. She moved her sunglasses onto her head, knowing that with her makeup done up for the first day back at school, she looked like a girl on a mission. She spotted Oliver’s fifteen-year-old sister, Brianna, sitting in the corner of the waiting room. Well, Brianna was actually Oliver’s half sister—she was the result of an indiscretion on Oliver’s dad’s part. Normally Brianna would be at boarding school, summer camp, or at her mom’s place in Santa Fe. But she’d been in Vegas a lot more since Oliver had landed in the hospital. Brianna spotted Madison and lowered her iPad to her lap. “He’s still not seeing anyone who’s not family,” she said. “Maybe he’ll change his mind once he realizes that I’m not leaving until he sees me,” Madison said, lowering herself into the chair next to Brianna. “I’ve been trying to convince him to see you,” Brianna said. “But he’s struggling through physical therapy—he still can’t walk after the knee surgery—and he doesn’t want anyone to see him this way. Especially you.” “Well, that’s just stupid.” Madison flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve known him since kindergarten. I witnessed his chubby phase in seventh grade, and his shaved-head phase in ninth grade. I can handle seeing him with a knee brace.” “His face is also bruised and cut up from the glass,” Brianna said. “I think he’s more embarrassed about that than the knee.” “It’ll heal,” Madison said. “And I don’t care about any of that. I just want to see him.” Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the doors that led to the private patient rooms, hoping that by some miracle, a doctor would walk through and tell her that Oliver was ready to see her. She hated that their last words to each other had been said in anger. The days after his accident, when he was in the coma and she wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, had been the most terrifying of her life. And while she was still upset about his bet with Peyton, she kept thinking about what he’d told her before leaving the party—that while the bet had put everything into motion, his feelings for her were real. Had he been telling the truth? She wasn’t sure. But she did know that she couldn’t lose him. She wanted to be there for him, but how could she be when he kept refusing to see her? Plus, Oliver was the only one besides her parents who knew that Adrian Diamond was her father, and that Peyton, Courtney and Savannah were her half sisters. Madison hadn’t seen the Diamonds much since Savannah’s Sweet Sixteen, due to winter break, but the secret had continued eating away at her. Oliver was the only one she could talk to about this. And his not wanting to see her hurt more than when she’d found out about the bet. Brianna fiddled around on her iPad, not meeting Madison’s eyes. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk with you about,” she said. “I haven’t been able to yet because my dad or Ellen has always been around.” “What’s up?” Madison asked. “After Oliver was brought out of his coma, his mind was hazy from the medicine, and when it was only me and him in the room, he said something strange...” She looked around cautiously at the other two people in the waiting room—one asleep and one reading a magazine—and lowered her voice. “He said something about you being a Diamond, and having to keep it secret, and how he was the only one who knew and that he wanted me to make sure you were doing okay. I asked what he meant, but then he snapped back into focus and told me not to say anything because you’d be mad that he’d blown your secret. I promised him I wouldn’t. But he sounded so worried, and now that I know you better, I have to ask—what did he mean?” Madison felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She could make something up, like Oliver calling her a “diamond” as a nickname. Or she could say that the pain medicine was messing with his mind, and that she had no idea what he meant. But Madison had been drowning in the secret, and she needed to talk about it with someone who wasn’t her parents. Months ago she might have told Damien, but now he was close with Savannah, so that wasn’t an option. Larissa was a huge gossip, and she didn’t feel right telling her other friends from school, because all it would take was one person to say something and then the secret would be out. Maybe she should tell Brianna. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, which is why I didn’t for so long.” Brianna pulled a leg up on her chair and faced Madison. “But when he told me, he sounded like he really wanted to make sure you were okay.” Madison swallowed, hating how her heart raced at the possibility of Oliver still caring about her—even if he was sending his sister to make sure she was okay instead of talking to her himself. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Oliver wouldn’t have said anything to you if he didn’t think I could trust you.” “You can trust me,” Brianna said. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” “All right.” It was now or never. Madison took a deep breath, figuring she might as well get it over with. “In the beginning of the school year, I discovered that Adrian Diamond is my biological father.” “Omigod.” Brianna’s mouth dropped open. “No way. How did you find out? Do your parents know? Does Adrian know? Do the Diamond sisters know?” “Keep your voice down,” Madison hissed, scooting closer to Brianna. “I found out during a lab in my advanced genetics class, when I realized that my blood type didn’t match my dad’s. I asked my parents about it that night, and they told me the truth. My parents and Adrian have always known, but they weren’t planning on telling me until I was old enough to access my trust fund...if they were ever really planning on telling me at all. No one else knows.” She shook her head, unable to believe that this was her life. “My parents asked me not to tell anyone, but I broke down and told Oliver. We agreed that the Diamond girls needed to know. So I told my parents that if Adrian didn’t tell them, I would. “My mom talked to Adrian, but he said there were some major issues going on in their family, and he wanted to wait to tell them. I thought he was waiting until after Savannah’s party, and was going to insist on telling them afterward. But then Oliver had his accident, and now we’re here.” She shrugged. “I still want to tell them the truth. But Oliver was there for me through this whole mess, and I’m not sure I can get through it without him.” Brianna’s eyes were wide as saucers. “Wow.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure where to start. “That’s just...wow. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this to yourself for so long.” “I know,” Madison said. “I wish Oliver would talk to me.” “He asks about you a lot,” Brianna admitted. “So why won’t he see me?” Madison asked. “He won’t even respond to my calls or texts. I don’t get it.” “Give him time. He will when he’s ready.” Brianna focused on the floor, clearly not wanting to say more. “Anyway, have you talked to Adrian since finding all this stuff out?” “No.” Madison sighed and sat back in her chair. “I have no idea what to say to him. Besides, if he wants to talk to me, shouldn’t he be the one to initiate it? He’s supposed to be the parent here, not me.” “You’re right,” Brianna said. “And I guess marching up to Adrian Diamond and confronting him is scary, even to someone as brave as you. But you should tell Peyton, Courtney and Savannah the truth. They deserve to know. They are your sisters.” “Half sisters,” Madison corrected her. “Oliver’s my half brother,” she said. “But it doesn’t make him half as important.” “I know.” Madison looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry. It’s just all so strange. I’ve been an only child all my life, and now I have sisters. And I wasn’t very nice to them when they moved here. I would probably be a terrible sister.” “I doubt that’s true,” Brianna said. “Just act the same way around them that you do around me. They’ll love you.” “Maybe.” Madison pulled her legs onto the chair and wrapped her arms around them. “But you didn’t see what a bitch I was to them at first. They should hate me.” “You’ll never know what they think if you don’t tell them the truth.” “I know.” Madison didn’t like it, but Brianna was right. “Let me know how it goes, okay?” Brianna said. “I have to go back to school soon, and I hate being so far away from everything that happens here.” “Is boarding school really that bad?” Madison asked, glad to change the subject. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, and the only guys I see are my teachers,” she complained. “I want to live here and go to Goodman. Whenever I come to visit, it seems so fun and glamorous. But Ellen would hate it if I lived here, my dad doesn’t want to make her upset and my mom thinks Vegas is a ‘world of sin.’” She leaned back and frowned. “I’m stuck at boarding school, and it sucks.” “There’s always college,” Madison said. “Have you thought about applying to UNLV?” Brianna perked up at the possibility, but the doctor came into the waiting room before she could answer. “Oliver’s out of physical therapy and is ready for visitors now,” he said, glancing at Madison. “I’m afraid he’s still seeing family members only.” “I’ve been here every day since his accident.” Madison crossed her arms, keeping her gaze level with his. “Can I please see him?” “He was specific with his request, and I can’t go against it,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry.” “I’ll try getting him to change his mind again, but I doubt it’ll work.” Brianna stood up, stretched and grabbed her iPad. “You know Oliver—he’s stubborn. Thanks for the talk, though. And good luck with what you were telling me.” “Thanks,” Madison said, watching as the doctor escorted Brianna into the recovery wing. She stared blankly at the doors as they shut closed. Why didn’t Oliver want her to visit? Madison swallowed back tears, frustrated that she couldn’t just talk to him. He was her best friend. Shouldn’t he want to see her? Shouldn’t he miss her? She definitely missed him—especially since school had started again today, and she’d been forced to see Peyton, Courtney and Savannah. How was she supposed to tell them the truth without knowing that Oliver would be there for her if it went terribly wrong? A tear ran down her face, and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t want to cry—especially not in the waiting room. So she put her sunglasses back on, left the hospital and blasted the radio her entire drive home. www.campusbuzz.com High Schools > Nevada > Las Vegas > The Goodman School Savannah Diamond is getting WAY more credit than she deserves!!! Posted on Friday 1/16 at 4:20 PM Like everyone else, I’ve watched Savannah Diamond’s videos on her YouTube channel. And I know I’m not the first to say that I just DON’T GET IT. Someone please tell me WHY this girl is getting so much attention?! I can name so many YouTube artists who are WAY more talented and who aren’t nearly as well known as Savannah. 1: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 4:42 PM its because her daddys rich and everyones fascinated by the girl who came from nothing and is now a hotel heiress. clearly its not because of her “talent!!!!” shes a good singer and all, but the girl has no stage presence! shes BORING!! 2: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 4:58 PM What are you all talking about?! Savannah’s videos are amazing! Her voice is PERFECT. And yeah, she was shy around the camera at first. But she’s getting better! Give her a chance. 3: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 5:13 PM shes a good singer, sure. But she SUCKS on guitar!!! Go back to her fist few vids and watch. Pure entertainment (in a comedic way). 4: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 5:29 PM whenever I watch one of her early videos I want to yell at her to PUT DOWN THE GUITAR!!! She might be decent if she wasn’t attacking the poor instrument through every song!! At least in her recent ones she has someone else playing for her. 5: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 5:34 PM You all are such bitches. Have you listened to her sing? She has perfect pitch. I’m telling you, that girl has natural talent and is going somewhere. You’re all just jealous. 6: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 5:41 PM Perfect pitch doesn’t give her a personality. And whats up with her eyeshadow? She puts so much on it looks like she got punched in the face. 7: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 5:55 PM hahahahahahaha you would think that considering how much money her dad has, she could afford to get her makeup professionally done for her videos! 8: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 6:09 PM You all know the only reason she’s so well known is because her daddy paid One Connection to perform at her sweet sixteen and tweet about her YouTube channel. ANYONE would be famous after that!! 9: Posted on Friday 1/16 at 6:58 PM she thinks shes a hell of a lot hotter than she is, too. she looks like every other blonde teenage girl around here! nothing special. people only put up with her cause she’s a Diamond. chapter 5: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) Courtney and Peyton still had no idea that Savannah had broken their pact and talked to Mom and Grandma, and Savannah planned on keeping it that way. So when Grandma had asked them to visit over the long weekend in January for Courtney’s birthday—using Aunt Sophie’s illness to guilt-trip them into saying yes—Savannah had been relieved. Soon her sisters would be forced to talk to Mom and Grandma. Savannah wouldn’t have to feel like she was going behind their backs anymore. The limo got on the freeway—it wouldn’t be long until they reached Grandma’s new home in Napa. Courtney was staring contemplatively out the window, while Peyton had her headphones in, listening to a ’90s rock band so loudly that they could all hear it. Savannah scrolled through Instagram to pass the time. She was commenting on a photo by a popular YouTuber when the phone buzzed with a text from Perry Myles. She smiled and opened it, having a good idea about what it would say. She was right: We go on in 10! The crowd rocks tonight :) xx Ever since Savannah had texted Perry after the meeting with her agent, he’d been texting her every night of the One Connection world tour. On days when they played a show, it was always when he was waiting in the greenroom. When he first did it, Savannah had thought it would be a one-time thing. But he’d continued with every stop, and the texts had become something special between them. She’d even looked his tour up and memorized where he’d be every night that week...although she made sure never to let him knowthat. Where are you now?? :) Belgium... I’ve been craving waffles since we got here :P I love waffles!! :) I thought pancakes were your fave? Yeah, they are :) Especially the ones at the Grand Caf? at the Diamond. They’re the best pancakes EVER! Is that an invite for me to visit so I can try them? ;) Savannah’s fingers froze, and she stared at the text. What was the right reply? She wished she could ask Peyton, but the vibe in the limo was so awkward—Savannah could feel her sisters’ anger toward Grandma and Mom. She didn’t want to make things worse. So she would have to try her best at channeling Peyton herself. If you ever get a break in your crazy schedule ;) She pressed Send, and reread their conversation. Hopefully her response was okay. She didn’t want Perry to think she was throwing herself at him, but she also didn’t want to sound uninterested. I always have time for you. Anyway, my manager’s yelling at me to put my phone away...time to hit the stage! xx Her heart flipped at the first line. He would always have time for her. It was hard to believe that Perry Myles was interested in her, but he did text her every night before performing. That had to mean something. But he also had to put his phone away, so she had to reply quickly. Good luck tonight! I wish I was there <3 I wish you were here, too ;) Savannah smiled at his reply, then returned to scrolling through Instagram. One of Perry’s bandmates, Noel, had posted a picture of the five of them backstage, and while they would never see it because they had so many fans, Savannah liked the picture. She couldn’t wait to see them live when they played Vegas this summer. In the meantime, Perry would text her when the show was over to tell her how it went. Although she’d come to learn that One Connection shows always went well. With seats that scalped for thousands of dollars, it was to be expected. Eventually, the limo exited the freeway. Courtney was biting her nails—something she did only when she was really nervous—and Savannah tossed her phone into her bag. She wanted to say something to make Courtney feel better, but what? The guilt over her secret rose up in her throat once again, so Savannah stayed quiet, looking out the window and playing with the ends of her hair. Peyton paused her music and took out her earbuds. “Are you guys ready?” she asked, looking mainly at Courtney. “No.” Courtney stopped chewing her nails and lowered her hands to her lap. “I have no idea what to say to them. I wouldn’t even be visiting this weekend if Grandma hadn’t sent us that email about how Aunt Sophie wanted us to come, and that this might be one of our last chances to see her before...” She let the sentence hang, not needing to clarify what she meant. Aunt Sophie had stopped chemo at the start of the New Year, since it wasn’t working. The three of them didn’t knowAunt Sophie that well—she’d moved in with Grandma right before they’d come to Vegas, and prior to then they’d only seen her a handful of times when she’d visited during the holidays—but how could they refuse to come to Napa with Grandma holding Aunt Sophie’s illness over their heads? “Maybe it won’t hurt to listen to them?” Savannah twisted her bracelets. “We can’t stay mad at them forever.” “But I can’t forgive them, either,” Courtney said. “They lied to us. For our entire lives. I can’t just get past that.” “You don’t have to ‘get past it.’” Peyton blew a bubble with her gum and sucked the air back in. “I sure as hell won’t.” “I don’t know.” Savannah bit her lip. “Will you really never forgive Grandma? You’re her favorite.” “No, I’m not.” Courtney rested her head in her hand and sighed. “I just keep worrying that Mom will relapse,” Savannah said. “If she does, and it’s because we haven’t forgiven her...it’ll be our fault.” “It’s not our fault,” Peyton said sharply. “Besides, Grandma would have said something if Mom were drinking again. But it seems like quitting her job, moving to the country, and doing yoga every day was cure enough. Oh, and us moving out so she didn’t have to take care of us anymore. I’m sure that had something to do with it.” Savannah flinched. “I don’t think that’s it. I mean, the other stuff must have helped. But she misses us—I know it.” “How?” Courtney asked. “None of us have talked to her since Thanksgiving.” Savannah’s heart stopped. “Right,” she said, her sisters’ gazes searing into her as she grasped for an excuse. “But before then, when we talked to her on Skype, I could tell she missed us. And when we saw her the day before Thanksgiving, she was really happy to see us. She tried cooking for us and everything.” “She did try,” Courtney said, her forehead creased. “But being back in that house after what happened there, and seeing Mom and Grandma again...it’ll be so strange. I don’t think I’ll ever look at them the same way. I’m just so grateful that the two of you have stood by me through all of this. Thank you.” “Of course,” Peyton asked as the limo passed through the gates of Grandma’s neighborhood. “We’re all three in this together.” Savannah’s stomach dropped. What would her sisters do if they knew about her secret phone calls with Mom and Grandma? Hopefully they would never find out. “You’re going to have to say something to them, ’cause here they are.” Peyton motioned to the house, where Grandma and Mom had stepped out to wait for them—Grandma smoothing out her dress, Mom wringing her hands. The initial greeting went well. Courtney managed to be pleasant, as if she hadn’t been giving Mom and Grandma the silent treatment since Thanksgiving. Peyton was a little sullen, but then again, when wasn’t Peyton pouting over something? “Thank you for not shutting me out these past few weeks, like your sisters did,” Mom whispered to Savannah while hugging her. “I appreciate it more than you know.” Savannah’s heart jumped, and she checked to see if Courtney and Peyton had heard. But they were already on their way inside the house, and they didn’t seem to have caught Mom’s slip-up. “Of course,” she said, pulling away. “But you know Courtney and Peyton don’t know I’ve been talking to you, right? So please don’t say anything about it again? I don’t want them to get mad at me.” “They shouldn’t make that decision for you,” she said. “But if you don’t want me to mention it again, I won’t.” “Thanks.” Savannah smiled, glad that Mom still looked healthy. Her skin was clear, she no longer had circles under her eyes, and she’d kept off the weight she’d lost since rehab. Maybe Peyton was right, and Mom was better off living away from them? As much as it hurt to think about, it might be true. They went inside, and Grandma was the only one to be found in the living room, “Your bags are in the guest room, and your sisters are down there getting settled in,” she said. “Aunt Sophie’s taking a nap, and her room’s right above yours, so be quiet when you unpack, okay?” “All right.” Savannah wanted to stay with Mom and Grandma, but she also wanted to see how her sisters were doing. And she didn’t want her sisters to think she was taking Mom and Grandma’s side. “I’ll be back up soon.” She headed down the steps and into the big bedroom that she and her sisters shared when they visited Grandma. She loved having her own room in the penthouse at the Diamond, but sometimes it got so quiet. She liked coming here and sharing the room with her sisters. This bedroom was about three times bigger than the one they’d crammed into in their dilapidated apartment in Fairfield, but it reminded her of old times. Peyton was unpacking her stuff, but Courtney was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Courtney?” Savannah asked. “Is she okay?” “I don’t think so.” Peyton shook her head. “She didn’t say anything when we got down here—she just went straight to the bathroom. She looked like she did after finding her and Britney’s baby book. Really pissed off.” “Crap,” Savannah said, glancing at the bathroom. “I guess seeing Grandma and Mom didn’t go as well as she made it seem.” “You guessed right.” Courtney stomped inside, slammed the door and glared at Savannah. “What was that about with Mom?” Savannah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Had Courtney overheard what Mom had said? If she had...then Savannah was screwed. She decided to act clueless. “What was what about?” she asked, sinking onto her bed and glancing at Peyton for help. “I don’t know what’s going on.” Peyton threw her hands up and took a step away from Courtney. “Did I miss something?” Savannah’s chest tightened, her eyes darting back and forth between her sisters. Courtney needed to stop glaring at her like she was the worst person ever—like she hated her. She swallowed and looked down at the carpet. “Is this about the hug Mom gave me when we got here?” she asked. “Because I had to hug her back. I’m sorry.” “Stop lying.” Courtney’s voice echoed through the room. “I’m sick of all the lies. I heard what she said to you. So just—stop. Stop pretending like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” “What did she say?” Peyton crossed her arms. “What am I missing?” Tears filled Savannah’s eyes, and she tried swallowing them away. She couldn’t say it—not without crying. Leave it to Mom to talk without thinking and screw up everything. “She thanked Savannah for not shutting her out these past few weeks,” Courtney told Peyton. “Which means that Savannah must have broken our pact. She’s been talking to Mom.” “Is that true?” Peyton asked Savannah. “I couldn’t not talk to her.” Savannah sniffed and wiped away a tear. “She hates what she did, and wishes she could take it back. Us not talkingto her was making her feel worse.” “She can’t just ‘take it back.’” Courtney paced around the room, her hands curled into fists. “Britney wasn’t some small thing that slipped Mom’s mind. She was our sister—she was my twin—and Mom didn’t tell us about her because it was too hard for her. Don’t you see how selfish that was?” “I know,” Savannah choked out. “I tried not talking to her—I really did. But she kept reaching out to us, and she’s our mom. I couldn’t ignore her.” “And I’m yoursister,” Courtney said. “Me, you and Peyton—­­we agreed to take space from Mom so she would know that she can’t lie to us without any consequences. But you not being able to do it...it’s like you don’t care about what she did. Like you don’t care about Britney.” “That’s not true,” Savannah said. “I do care about Britney, and I hate that Mom never told us about her.” “So why are you acting like she doesn’t matter?” “Because Britney’s dead!” The moment she realized what she’d said, Savannah clasped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. Courtney stopped pacing, her face pale. She stared at Savannah as if she didn’t recognize her. “What the hell, Savannah?” Peyton said. “When did you become such a bitch?” “I didn’t mean it like that,” she mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. Her sisters were looking at her with so much betrayal that she wanted to bury herself under the covers. “Mom just kept reaching out to me, and I felt so bad ignoring her...” “Mom kept reaching out to you because she knows you’re the weakest of the three of us,” Peyton said. “She knew you would give in.” “At least I let myself care about people,” Savannah shot back. “You just push everyone away. Of course you had no problem shutting Mom out—shutting people out comes naturally to you.” There were three knocks on the door, and they all went silent, watching as whoever it was opened it and peeked her head through. Aunt Sophie. Her skin was wrinkled and hollow, with age spots all over it, and the circles around her eyes were so dark that they could have been bruises. In her ivory, flowing nightgown, she looked like a ghost who hadn’t slept in weeks. “Is everything okay in here?” she asked, her voice soft and frail. “Aunt Sophie!” Courtney exclaimed. “Did our talking wake you up?” “I wouldn’t call what you were doing ‘talking.’” Aunt Sophie laughed, although it turned into a hacking cough. She caught her breath, then said, “Yelling is more like it.” “We’re so sorry,” Courtney said, clasping her hands together. “We didn’t mean to bother you.” “I know,” Aunt Sophie said. “I opened my window this morning for some fresh air, and your window down here was open, too. Sound really travels out here in the country.” “How much did you hear?” Savannah asked. “Everything.” Aunt Sophie hobbled over to the closest bed—Savannah’s—and sat down. She held her hand against her head, as if just that short walk had made her dizzy, and took a few long, steadying breaths. “As I understand from what I heard, the three of you made a group decision not to speak to your mom and grandma, and Savannah spoke to them anyway without telling you.” “We don’t need to ‘talk this out,’ or whatever,” Peyton said. “We’ve got it covered.” Aunt Sophie cracked a smile. “I disagree. It sounded like you were about to rip each other’s hair out. And since I have to live here while everyone else is angry at each other, I think we do need to talk it out. Let’s not make this weekend more stressful than it needs to be, okay?” Savannah’s cheeks turned red, and she fiddled with her bracelets, unable to look at Aunt Sophie. If she’d heard that entire conversation, then she must have heard what Savannah had yelled at Courtney—about Britney being dead. She’d never said anything so mean, ever. Especially not to her sister. Aunt Sophie must think she was a terrible person. “I want each of you to sit on your beds, and we’ll discuss this—without yelling,” Aunt Sophie said. “Are you a psychologist now or something?” Peyton asked, although she did stomp over to her bed and sit. “No—but I was a teen once, and your grandma and I had quite our share of fights as well,” Aunt Sophie replied. “I know what it’s like to fight with your sister. And when it came to your grandma and I, I was always the peacekeeper of the two.” “Like Courtney,” Savannah said. “Well...like Courtney is normally. Peyton and I fight all the time about stupid things, but Courtney always fixes it.” “You’re right,” Courtney said. “I’m always there for both of you. When you and Peyton fight over what music to listen to, or taking each other’s stuff, or any of your stupid fights, I help you work it out. But now—the one time when I needed you to stand by me—you couldn’t do it. And you lied to me about it.” “Which are you more upset about?” Aunt Sophie asked. “That Savannah talked to your mom and grandma, or that she kept it from you and Peyton?” “Both.” Courtney sniffed. “But not telling us makes it worse.” She turned her focus to Savannah, her eyes full of so much anger that Savannah backed up against the wall. “How did you sit with us in the car today when I was talking about how grateful I was that you and Peyton kept your word, knowing that you hadn’t? How could you lie to me like that?” “I didn’t mean to,” Savannah said. “You made me promise not to talk to them. Then they wanted to talk to me, and I hated ignoring them, so I didn’t. No one ever asked me if not talking to them was something I wanted to do.” “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Courtney said. Savannah blinked, and looked down at her lap. How could Courtney say that to her? “We’re supposed to be talking about this without fighting,” Aunt Sophie reminded them. “I don’t have the energy to deal with a fight like the one I overheard earlier—and I certainly don’t want to be surrounded by this attitude all weekend.” “Sorry,” Courtney said. “I knew we shouldn’t have come here.” She leaned against the wall, pulled her legs up to her chest and added, “But maybe it’s best that we did. Otherwise we wouldn’t have found out that Savannah’s been lying to us.” “So I was correct,” Aunt Sophie said. “It’s the lying that upset you the most.” “I guess.” Courtney shrugged. “It definitely made it worse.” “What was I supposed to do?” Savannah asked. “If I’d told you about talking with Mom and Grandma, it wouldn’t have changed anything. You still would have been mad.” “Yeah,” Courtney said. “But not as mad. At least that way you wouldn’t have been going behind my back for weeks, lying to me and making me think you had my back this entire time.” “I do have your back,” Savannah insisted. “I just couldn’t ignore Mom and Grandma, either.” “So you never should have promised that you would.” “Your sister makes a good point,” Aunt Sophie said to Savannah. “When you made that promise, did you know you wouldn’t be able to keep it?” “No,” Savannah said. “I wanted to stick to it. I swear it.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “So why didn’t you?” she asked. “It wasn’t hard—we live in a different state than Mom and Grandma. All you had to do was not pick up the phone when they called.” Savannah shook her head, amazed that Peyton didn’t get it. “Maybe it wasn’t hard for you,” she said. “But it was for me. I kept thinking...what if Mom gets so upset by our ignoring her that she relapses? She kept calling and reaching out to us, so eventually I had to pick up, and once I started talking to her, I couldn’t just stop again. But I’ve felt terrible about talking to her every time.” “You shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to be there for your mom,” Aunt Sophie said. “That was kind of you to do—­especially considering the magnitude of her lies. It takes strength to forgive and love unconditionally, and you have that strength, Savannah. It’s what makes you shine.” “Thank you.” Savannah swallowed and glanced at her nails. She’d never had someone say something that nice to her before. “I mean it,” Aunt Sophie said. “It seems like the real problem here is that you didn’t feel like you could be honest with your sisters.” “I know,” Savannah said. “I was afraid. And I felt bad that I couldn’t follow through with the promise that I’d made them.” She took a deep breath and looked at both Peyton and Courtney. Peyton’s eyes were hard, and Courtney’s face was still red from the yelling she’d done earlier. “I hate when you guys are mad at me. I don’t want to take sides between both of you and Mom and Grandma, but I should have told you the moment I realized I couldn’t go through with the promise. And I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff to you just now. I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t thinking, and it just came out. I’m sorry.” “It doesn’t change what you did,” Peyton said. “Or what you said.” “Is that fair, Peyton?” Aunt Sophie asked. “Of course Savannah can’t take back what she said or did—that’s how life works. There are no do-overs. Everyone makes mistakes, and if you can’t forgive them, you’ll end up pushing everyone away. That’s no way to live. What’s most important is intent. Do you think Savannah means what she’s saying in her apology?” “Sure.” Peyton shrugged. “I guess.” “All right.” Aunt Sophie nodded. “I suppose that’s progress. Now, what about you, Courtney? Do you accept Savannah’s apology?” “I want to.” Courtney focused on Savannah, and while her eyes were glassy, they weren’t angry like they were earlier. “And I will. I know you didn’t want to go behind my back, but it doesn’t change that you did. I just hope in the future you’ll be honest with me. Okay?” “Okay.” Savannah smiled. “I promise.” “Does this mean we’ll be able to enjoy this weekend in peace?” Aunt Sophie asked. She coughed, took a few wheezing breaths, and cleared her throat. “After all, we do have Courtney’s birthday to celebrate tomorrow.” “I’m going to be civil to Grandma and Mom,” Courtney said. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive them. What they did by not telling me that Britney even existed...that’s unforgivable.” “But you have to forgive them eventually,” Savannah said. “Right?” “I don’t know.” She grabbed her backpack and pulled it onto the bed. “But I do know we’re celebrating my birthday tomorrow, and I have homework I need to do today.” “I supposed that’s enough for now,” Aunt Sophie said. “And I need to get some rest. Would one of you mind helping me up the stairs?” “Of course.” Courtney jumped up off her bed and helped Aunt Sophie up. “I’m so sorry that we bothered you.” “No need to apologize,” she said. “I just hope I helped.” “You did,” Savannah said, watching Courtney lead Aunt Sophie out of their room. Every step of Aunt Sophie’s was slow, and she breathed heavily as she walked. She couldn’t imagine how she’d come down here on her own. “She seems really nice,” she said to Peyton once Aunt Sophie and Courtney were up the steps. “Yeah,” Peyton agreed. “It sucks that she’s so sick.” “I’ve never known what to say to her,” Savannah said. “She’s the first person I’ve ever known who knows she’s dying. But after that conversation...I’m glad we’re here this weekend.” “I’m glad we’re here, too,” Peyton said, pulling at the ends of her sleeves. “It’s weird, though. Talking to her is almost like...talking to a ghost.” Savannah shivered, and they were both silent for a few seconds. Then her phone buzzed with a text. Evie. Hey, Savannah! I saw on Twitter that you’re in California, and was hoping we could hang out? :) Savannah glared at her phone, clicked out of the text, tossed it onto her bed. “Wow,” Peyton said. “Whoever that was must have really pissed you off.” “It was Evie,” Savannah said. “She wants to hang out.” “But you’re still mad at her?” Savannah thought back to the last time she’d spoken to Evie—the night of her Sweet Sixteen. Evie had known that Savannah had feelings for Damien, but she’d tried to flirt with him, anyway. After Savannah caught her, Evie had blown up. She’d called Savannah a selfish brat, and said that Savannah’s YouTube channel was stupid because she only sang covers and no original songs. Then she’d tried to claim that her making moves on Damien was good for Savannah, because it would prove to Savannah whether or not Damien was worth it. It was so convoluted. At least Damien hadn’t fallen for it—he’d only been talking to Evie because he felt bad for her, because Evie had felt out of place at the party. “I’m still mad at her,” Savannah said. “I don’t want to see her.” “What about everything Aunt Sophie said?” Peyton asked. “About forgiveness?” “That was different,” she said. “You and Courtney are my sisters—we have to forgive each other. I don’t need to be friends with Evie.” “It’s your call,” Peyton said. “I’m just surprised.” Savannah frowned and glanced at her phone. If Peyton was telling her to forgive Evie, maybe she should? But then she reminded herself about the mean things Evie had said at the party, and the way she’d tried snuggling into Damien, and anger surged through her body. “You lost touch with your friends from Fairfield,” Savannah said. “Why shouldn’t I do the same?” “Because those ‘friends’ I had in Fairfield were never really my friends,” Peyton said. “They were just people to hang out with and party with. But you and Evie were best friends. I always thought that you would have preferred to have her as a sister over me or Courtney.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Savannah said. “I would never choose to have anyone as a sister besides you and Courtney.” “But you did always have more fun with her than you did with either of us,” Peyton said. “And don’t say it’s not true, because I’ll know you’re lying.” Savannah shrugged, since she did have a lot of fun hanging out with Evie. They could talk and laugh about everything. It wasn’t that she didn’t have fun with her sisters, but it was different. Courtney was so responsible, and Peyton was so confident. Savannah always felt like everything she said was up for judgment or a lecture. But with Evie, she didn’t have to worry about that. Her phone buzzed with another text. Or be a bitch and ignore me. Whatever. It hadn’t been ten minutes since the first message. Evie couldn’t know that Savannah had seen it. Except that Savannah had her phone on her constantly, and Evie knew that. But did she have to be so mean about it? “I don’t want to talk about Evie.” Savannah deleted their entire string of text messages and threw her phone back down onto the bed. “We’re not friends anymore.” “Okay,” Peyton said, although she didn’t sound like she believed it. chapter 6: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) That night, Courtney had stayed true to her word to be civil to everyone, and they’d all marathon watched a television show—minus Aunt Sophie, who’d fallen asleep in the reclining chair. Courtney was the first to wake up the next morning, and when she checked her phone, there was a text message from Brett. She smiled when she saw that he’d sent it exactly at midnight. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Can’t wait for you to get back home so we can celebrate. Wish I was there with you, but I hope you’re having a good time in California, and remember to call me if you need anything... I miss you! She texted him back immediately, even though he was probably still asleep. I miss you and wish you were here, too. So much. I’ll see you first thing when I get home <3 She slid out of bed, making sure not to disturb Peyton and Savannah, grabbed her Kindle and tiptoed upstairs to the kitchen. The birds chirped outside, and she brewed some chai tea in the Keurig, glad to have time to herself. Despite her insistence that no one should make a big deal about her birthday, no one ever listened. There was always so much pressure to have the perfect happy day. Well, Mom was usually a wreck on her birthday—which made sense now, since she was grieving for Britney—but Peyton and Savannah tried to make the day all about her. Courtney hated it. Her perfect day would consist of doing nothing but reading an incredible book. She’d situated herself on the couch, Kindle in hand, and was blowing on her tea when Aunt Sophie emerged from her room. Courtney would never get used to seeing how sick Aunt Sophie looked, especially since she was Grandma’s twin. Her wrinkled skin, sagging circles under her eyes and the wool hat she wore to hide her lack of hair made her look at least fifteen years older. “I heard someone walking around, and given the time, I thought it might be you,” Aunt Sophie said, settling into her favorite recliner. “Happy birthday. Is that chai tea I smell?” “Yes,” Courtney said. “This one’s nearly cooled off enough to drink, and I haven’t had any yet. If you want it, I can brew myself another.” “That would be lovely,” she said. “Thank you.” Courtney handed the tea over, afraid Aunt Sophie’s hands were shaking so much that she might drop it. Once she saw that she wouldn’t, she went into the kitchen to get another cup. The Keurig had it ready in less than a minute, and she brought it back into the living room. “I’m glad I was able to help you and your sisters work through your argument yesterday,” Aunt Sophie said, sipping on her tea. “You’ve had quite a few changes to adjust to in the past few months, haven’t you?” “My entire life has changed,” Courtney said. “I’ve been trying to make the best of it, but recently I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.” Realizing how intense that sounded, she tried to smile and shrug it off. But it was too late. The words hung in the air, waiting for an explanation. “And you truly don’t see yourself forgiving your mom and grandma?” Courtney took a deep breath and stared into her tea. “I don’t want to still be mad at them,” she said. “But right now, I don’t know how not to be. Especially today, when I should be celebrating my seventeenth birthday with Britney. I should have been remembering her every year at this time. But because Grandma and Mom lied to me, I didn’t even know she existed until a few weeks ago.” “Your grandma and mom were wrong not to tell you about her,” Aunt Sophie said. “I told them for years that they needed to, but they never listened.” “Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.” “But they did what they did because of love,” Aunt Sophie said, her voice stronger than Courtney had heard so far. “They thought that by not telling you about Britney, it would spare you from wondering what life would have been like if she’d lived. It’s a pain your grandma and mom have experienced every day.” “But Britney was my twin,” Courtney said. “Keeping her from me was selfish. If I’d never found that baby book, they might have never told me about her, and then I never would have known the truth.” “Very true. But you did find that baby book, and now you do know the truth.” Aunt Sophie lifted her mug to her lips and took a sip, her hand shaking. Courtney prepared herself to jump out of her seat in case she dropped it, but her aunt managed to place it back on the armrest and hold it steady. “At this point, what’s in the past is done. Being angry at your mom and grandma won’t change that. Ever since Thanksgiving, when you and your sisters left early and refused to speak with them, they’ve been beating themselves up over it. Savannah was right to worry that your mom would return to drinking—your grandma and I worried about it, as well. We were so grateful when Savannah offered her forgiveness.” “I know you wouldn’t believe it after hearing our fight yesterday, but I’m grateful to Savannah for that, too,” Courtney said, curling up on the couch. “The last thing I want is for Mom to relapse. But I can’t force myself to forgive her and Grandma. Every time I think of them, I’m reminded of how they never told me about Britney, and I get angry all over again. I hate it.” “Neither of them can take back their actions,” Aunt Sophie said softly. “But you need to ask yourself—do you want to look back and wish you’d handled this differently? Most of us go through life feeling invincible, but none of us know what day will be our last. Is holding on to your anger truly worth it?” “When you put it that way, I know it’s not,” Courtney said. “But I can’t just forget about what they did.” “I didn’t ask you to forget,” Aunt Sophie said. “You should never forget. But you should try to forgive.” Courtney couldn’t meet her eyes, because she wanted to forgive Grandma and Mom. She missed talking with them—Grandma especially. But it was too fresh right now. Especially today, with her birthday as a reminder of how Britney was missing from their lives. They sat in silence for a few seconds, sipping on their tea. Then Grandma’s door opened, and Courtney watched as she walked into the living room, dressed and ready for the day. While she and Aunt Sophie were identical, the two of them were more likely to pass as mother and daughter than twins. “I thought I heard people out here,” she said, smiling. “Happy birthday, Courtney. And Sophie—you’re looking refreshed this morning.” Courtney would hardly describe Aunt Sophie as looking “refreshed,” but she supposed it was all about perspective. Soon Savannah came up to join them, followed by Mom. Courtney still wasn’t used to Mom waking up before noon, but it was one of the many changes that had come with her journey to recovery. “I’m going to get breakfast started,” Grandma said. “French toast—Courtney’s favorite, since she’s the birthday girl. Will you girls get Peyton out of bed and up here to join us?” Thirty minutes later, they were all sitting around the dining room table, the serving plates piled with French toast, eggs, fruit and bacon (the vegetarian kind for Courtney and regular for everyone else). “So, girls,” Grandma said after everyone had food on their plates. “Your mom and I recently received our invitations to your father’s wedding.” Peyton’s mouth dropped open, despite being in the middle of chewing her food. She swallowed quickly, and said, “They invited you? Both of you?” “You’re not actually going, are you?” Savannah chimed in. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t,” Grandma said. Courtney could think of a lot of reasons. But she started with the most practical one. “There’s going to be an open bar,” she said, looking at Mom. “Is that something you’re ready for? Especially since you haven’t seen Adrian in so long...it might be a trigger.” “I talked with my doctor about it after receiving the invitation,” she said. “She told me that with the support of Grandma, the three of you, and with my sponsor there, I’ll be able to get through the event. She actually believes it will be good for me to attend.” “But it’s more than the wedding.” Courtney picked up a piece of fake bacon and tore it apart. “It’s Las Vegas in general. Everywhere you turn in the Diamond there’s a bar, or people drinking in the casino, or people walking around with drinks, or a mention of some sort of party. I can’t imagine that’ll be good for you.” “Which is why we’ll stay at the Trump,” Grandma said. “A non-gaming, family-friendly hotel.” “What about Aunt Sophie?” Courtney turned to Aunt Sophie, who had barely touched her French toast. “You won’t be able to travel, will you? Or stay here alone?” “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said. “A nurse will stay with me here. I’ll be perfectly fine.” “It sounds like a good plan.” Savannah twisted a piece of hair around her finger and looked at Mom. “But are you going to be okay watching Adrian marry Rebecca?” “You think I would be upset watching him marry her?” Mom smiled, as if she found the notion amusing. “You were married to him once, and you do have kids with him,” Courtney said. She’d pictured the wedding numerous times—Rebecca talked about it constantly, so she had to—and she couldn’t imagine Mom and Grandma there. In fact, she couldn’t imagine Mom having a conversation with Adrian, let alone being married to him. “Of course you might be upset watching him marry someone else.” She waved it away. “I’ve been over Adrian for years,” she said. “And when I was married to him, I was friends with Rebecca. Some of the women Adrian introduced me to snubbed me because I hadn’t grown up in their exclusive circle, but Rebecca was always welcoming and kind.” “Did you ever meet Ellen Prescott?” Peyton asked. “Yep.” Mom made a face and laughed. “She was one of the ones who snubbed me. The ringleader, actually.” “And you were friends with Rebecca?” asked Savannah, her fork dangling in the air. Courtney couldn’t blame her for being stunned. Rebecca was so calm, organized and level-headed—the complete opposite of their mom. “Sort of,” Mom said. “I knew Adrian and Rebecca dated in high school, and I used to worry that their feelings for each other hadn’t disappeared. When I first heard they were engaged, it stung, but that’s in the past now. I really am happy for them.” “Oh.” Savannah frowned and played with a loose thread on her place mat. “So...you don’t want to get back together with Dad?” Courtney was surprised at the sadness in her sister’s voice. Mom and Adrian getting back together wasn’t something she’d ever considered. From the photos she’d seen of her parents in her baby book, she knew they must have loved each other once, but they were so different and wrong for each other now. “You girls can do simple math, so I’m sure you’ve realized that Adrian and I got married after finding out I was pregnant with Peyton,” Mom said. “We used protection but...­sometimes these things happen.” Peyton nearly choked on her eggs. “We don’t need the details,” she said. “But yeah, we figured as much.” “Adrian and I tried to make it work,” she continued. “But it wasn’t meant to be between us. Even before the...event that drove us apart...” She glanced at Courtney, and Courtney looked away, the reminder of Britney making her chest pang. “Adrian wasn’t always faithful to me. I tried to ignore it, because at the end of the day, I was the one he was married to and came home to and claimed to love. But it couldn’t have gone on much longer. He’s always had a soft spot for Rebecca—­she was his first love, after all—and I don’t think those feelings ever went away. Hopefully he’ll be different with her than he was with me. I think it’s possible.” “He does really love her,” Savannah said. “And she’s been nice to us since we got to Vegas. Even Peyton doesn’t mind her anymore.” “She gets annoying—especially now that all she talks about is the wedding—but whatever.” Peyton shrugged. “I tune her out and she’s not that bad.” “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said about her,” Savannah said. “She does talk about the wedding a lot. More than I ever talked about my Sweet Sixteen party.” “Now that we’re back to the wedding, what do you girls say?” Mom asked. “Is it all right if Grandma and I come?” “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Courtney said before her sisters had a chance to speak up. Her mom deflated, and she searched for a reason—something other than the fact that she simply hadn’t forgiven her. “We won’t be able to spend time with you, because we’ll be so busy doing bridesmaid stuff.” She pushed her food around on her plate, knowing that the excuse sounded lame. She needed to add something to it. “Since you’ll barely be able to see us, you shouldn’t miss out on a weekend here with Aunt Sophie.” “If you prefer us not to come, we understand,” Grandma said. “That’s why we asked the three of you before sending in our RSVP.” “The wedding’s in April, so no one has to decide right now,” Aunt Sophie cut in. She sounded tired, as if the conversation with Courtney that morning and having breakfast with them had exhausted her, but she continued, anyway. “Why don’t the three of you take a few days to figure out how you feel about it? You should all have a say. But for now, it’s Courtney’s birthday. Let’s talk about something more fun—like that trip to Italy you took in December. I’ve never been to Italy, and I’ve always wanted to see it, so spare no details.” With that, Savannah launched into describing their trip. Courtney stayed silent for the rest of the meal. Because despite Aunt Sophie’s advice—to forgive while she had the chance—Courtney wasn’t sure she could. At least not now, or anytime soon. chapter 7: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) After the tension of the weekend—mainly between Courtney, Grandma and Mom—Peyton was glad to be back in Las Vegas. She’d just settled onto her bed with her laptop to crank out some last-minute homework when her cell buzzed. One glance at the screen, and her heart jumped into her throat. It was Jackson. After all these weeks of silence, he was finally calling her. She’d expected his first move to be a Facebook message or a text. But for him to call...whatever he wanted to tell her had to be good. He had to still care about her. Did he think about her as much as she thought about him? She took a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” “Peyton?” the deep, familiar voice asked. Just hearing him made her heart race. “It’s Jackson.” “I know.” She stood and paced around the room—she hated standing still while talking on the phone. “What’s up?” “I’m in Vegas right now,” he started, and she paused mid-stride. “I got here Saturday night, and spoke with your father yesterday.” “You spoke with my father?” she repeated, stunned at how so much had changed so quickly. “You’re working for him again? You’re moving back here?” “No.” He sounded so resolved, and she fell back onto her bed, her heart crushed all over again. “Things went well, but I’m leaving tonight. I just didn’t want to go without seeing you.” “You’re leaving?” Her voice caught, and she swallowed to get ahold of herself. “Again?” “Yes,” he said, so calmly that she had no idea what he was feeling. “Adrian told me you and your sisters got back in town about an hour ago. I understand if you don’t want to see me, but I wanted to at least give you the choice.” “Of course I want to see you,” she stammered. “Where are you?” “In the Diamond,” he said. “In your hall, actually. Right outside your door, with your guards.” She yanked off her baggy sweatshirt and hurried to her mirror. Why did he have to give her such little notice? When she’d imagined seeing him again, she assumed she would look fresh—not like she’d been woken up early to go to breakfast, forced to go with her family on a bike ride through Napa, and then flown back home. Her smudged makeup was ten hours old, and her hair was a mess, since she’d pulled it into a bun so she wouldn’t play with it while doing her homework. “Peyton?” Jackson said again. “It’s all right if you need a few minutes. I’ll be waiting here.” “A few minutes sounds good,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.” She jammed her finger onto the end-call button, ran a brush through her hair and tried to salvage her makeup. This was her chance to make things right with Jackson. She could do this. She had to do this, otherwise she would be mad at herself forever. But first, she had to text her sisters, since they were in their rooms and would definitely hear when he came in. Jackson’s here and wants to talk to me...we’ll be in my room, so don’t come in!! Will give you the 411 later ;) She shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, walked to the front entrance and opened the door. Just like he’d said, Jackson was waiting with Savannah and Courtney’s guards—Carl and Teddy—and Peyton’s new, older guard, Dustin. In the months that Jackson had been her guard, Peyton had grown used to seeing him in his bodyguard uniform, but today he wore dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket. Even though he was a few years older, he looked like he could pass for her age. “Hey.” She tried to sound nonchalant, despite the fact that every inch of her body was shaking. “Hey.” He moved closer to the door. Everything about his expression was neutral, so it was impossible to tell if he was excited to see her or not. Her blood ran cold—this couldn’t be a good sign. “Want to come in?” She swallowed, her throat ridiculously dry, and opened the door wider. He did, and they walked to her room in silence. She felt like he was watching her, but every time she tried to catch his gaze, he looked away. He’d been in her room only once—the night of Halloween when she’d had a “costume emergency” because she couldn’t decide what to wear, and had tried on her top three choices for him. They’d kissed that night, and while it wasn’t their first kiss, it was the first time he hadn’t pushed her away. Or at least he hadn’t pushed her away immediately. It hadn’t taken him long to remind her that he worked for her father, and any other relationship between them was inappropriate. “So,” she said, closing the door to her room and facing him. “It’s been a while.” She forced herself to stay still and not wring her hands. She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was. He took a deep, pained breath and glanced at the ceiling. “I know,” he said, his hazel eyes finding hers again. “I wanted to apologize for that.” “Okay.” She smiled, since she’d never had someone declare that they wanted to apologize to her. Did he expect her to give him permission? “Go ahead.” He pulled at his sleeves. “Mind if we sit?” “Sure.” Peyton sat on her bed, but instead of joining her, Jackson chose the desk chair nearby. Dread twisted in her stomach. If he’d decided he wanted to be with her—to see if it could work between them—wouldn’t he have joined her on the bed? She grabbed a small decorative pillow and placed it on her lap, then started picking at the corners. “I spoke with your father yesterday,” Jackson repeated what he’d told her on the phone. “He called and asked to see me—he bought me a round-trip ticket from Omaha and gave me a room for the weekend.” “No way,” Peyton said. “I thought he hated you.” “It surprised me, too,” he said. “Especially since the last time I saw him, he fired me and gave me no recommendations. I’ve been home since, trying to figure out how to get a job with that on my record.” “Someone would have to hire you,” she said. The alternative—­that she’d ruined Jackson’s career—was too awful to think about. She’d never forgive herself if that were the case. “With no reference and no acceptable explanation of why I got fired?” He leaned back in the chair and raised an eyebrow. “A bodyguard is not a position that people want to take a chance on, so it wasn’t looking good. My best option seemed to be changing careers. Luckily, my old karate instructor heard me out about what happened and offered to let me assist with teaching a few classes at the studio.” “You were going to go from being a bodyguard for the daughter of one of the biggest hotel owners in the world to teaching karate at a studio in Nebraska?” Peyton scrunched her forehead. “I have a hard time picturing that.” “I was actually enjoying it, but it was only a temporary position while I was considering my options,” he said. “Then Adrian called. I came straight here, and he told me that he’d had a change of heart. He said he still doesn’t approve of my actions, but that for the most part, I did a good job, and he was impressed by my work ethic.” “So he wants to rehire you?” Peyton sat up straighter, excitement thrumming through her veins. “No,” he said, and she leaned back into the pillows, her hopes crushed again. “But he apologized for firing me without giving me a recommendation. He said that while he still stands by his decision, he was too harsh on me, and that he doesn’t want to ruin my career.” “Wow,” Peyton said, trying to sound cheerful. “That was nice of him.” “It was.” Jackson rocked the swiveling desk chair back and forth. “I assumed you had something to do with it.” “I wish, but I don’t think I did.” She ran her hands through her hair, trying to figure out what could have caused Adrian’s change of heart. “After everything that happened, Adrian made it clear that he didn’t want to hear about you. I’ve only mentioned you to my sisters, and to Rebecca.” “Rebecca’s the only person I can think of who could change his mind.” “But I don’t see why she would bother,” Peyton said. “I mean, she did ask me a few times while we were in Italy how I was handling everything, but I’m not exactly close to her.” She thought about it, then shrugged it off. How this had happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was happening. “When will you start applying for a new job?” she asked. “There must be tons of people who need a bodyguard in Vegas.” “Adrian reached out to a connection and got me a job himself.” He pressed his palms together, watching her closely. “I start tomorrow.” “That’s amazing!” Peyton smiled and bounced her legs. “Who will you be working for?” A few possibilities crossed her mind—Logan Prescott, Steve Wynn, Sheldon Adelson—there were so many high-powered people connected to Adrian in Las Vegas. And the fact that Adrian would do this, despite how angry he’d been after seeing the photos of her and Jackson...­­it meant a lot. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.” The seriousness in his voice made Peyton go still. “The job isn’t in Las Vegas. It’s in a town in upstate New York—Port Charles. They have some mob issues there and one of the guys in charge needs a new bodyguard for his kid. I’m taking the red-eye tonight.” The words felt like a stake through Peyton’s heart. “Adrian did this on purpose, didn’t he?” she said. “He got you a job far away to make sure we never see each other.” “Listen, Peyton.” He rubbed his hands over his head and blew out a long breath. “I have feelings for you. You know it’s true, because I told you that night at the Imperial Palace, and I would never lie to you about something so important.” “Really?” she asked. “Because when you dropped off the face of the planet, I thought you didn’t care anymore. I thought you never wanted to talk to me again.” “As I told you, I needed time to think,” he said. “And while I was home, I did a lot of thinking. I wanted to justify what had happened between us, but I kept coming back to the same conclusion—the way I let my guard down around you was unacceptable. My job was to protect you. Not to bring you to a bar so you could confide in me over a pitcher of beer.” “You listened when I needed someone to talk to,” she said, scooting closer to him. “You were the only person I trusted who was there for me. There’s nothing wrong with that.” “Besides the fact that until you turn eighteen, anything between us is illegal, what’s ‘wrong with that’ is that I was your bodyguard.” He set his jaw, sitting straighter. “Not your boyfriend.” “Well, you’re not my bodyguard anymore.” She hated how bitter she sounded, but there was no taking it back, so she might as well let it all out. “And even though I only have two months until my birthday, clearly you have no interest in being my boyfriend, either.” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t ‘do’ long-­distance relationships. At least, that’s what you told Mike when you broke up with him.” “You’re comparing yourself to Mike?” Peyton laughed. “Mike and I had nothing in common except that we were attracted to each other, and he was a challenge because he hung out with a different group of friends than I did in Fairfield. But you get me on a deeper level. You saw the darkest parts of my life—the worst parts of me—and you didn’t hate me. I didn’t have to put on an act with you.” “But you were forced to let me in,” he said. “I read your file, and I watched you for months before you even knew I existed. I knew you before we exchanged a single word. And I know that if you try to let people in on your own, you’ll connect with them more than you thought you could.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Plus, you said yourself that you like a challenge. That’s why you went for Mike, and for Oliver, and for that Australian teacher of yours.” “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “Those guys don’t come close to comparing to you.” “But at the time, you thought you were truly interested in each one of them, right?” “I don’t know,” she mumbled, looking down at her hands. “It doesn’t matter, because it didn’t work out with any of them. They don’t matter. They never did.” “You say that, but I’m just as—if not more—off-limits than they ever were.” He checked his watch, and Peyton’s chest ached at the realization that he was leaving soon. “I held your interest for this long because I’ve told you no.” “You’re wrong,” she said. “But I don’t know how I can make you see it...especially since you won’t even add me on Facebook so we can keep in touch.” He raised an eyebrow. “Out of everything we’ve talked about tonight, your biggest concern is Facebook?” “It’s a good way to keep in touch.” She shrugged. “If you want to.” He took out his phone and tapped on the screen a few times. “There,” he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Friend request accepted.” “Thanks,” she said, although now she felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it. She rarely used Facebook. Her feelings for Jackson were turning her into a drama queen, and she hated it. “By the way, congrats on applying to UNLV,” he said. She jerked her head, surprised by the change of subject. “How do you know about that?” “Your dad mentioned it when we talked. I hope you get in.” “Whatever.” She huffed. “I’m done with school. I’m not going.” “I always did see you as more of a gap-year type,” he said, as if she should know what that meant. He studied her with so much intensity that her heart caught in her throat. The energy between them crackled, and she leaned forward, inviting him wordlessly to come join her on the bed. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and for a moment she thought that this was it. He was finally going to kiss her again. “I need to head out.” He stood up and shoved the chair under her desk, ending whatever she thought she’d felt between them. “I don’t want to miss my plane.” “Okay.” She heard herself say it, but she felt numb. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. All she could do was sit there while he said goodbye and walked away. The moment he left the condo, she locked her door, fell onto her bed, buried her face in her pillows and cried. chapter 8: (#u01493745-e5ac-55e2-aa17-888f46495271) Madison walked into the Diamond Residences after school, her iPhone held up to her ear. As expected, the call went to voice mail. When was Oliver going to stop avoiding her and talk to her? It had been weeks since the accident, and all she’d gotten were a few text messages saying he was doing fine and that he would let her know when he was ready to talk. But it was now the beginning of February, and she was losing hope. Why didn’t he want to see her? She was trying to be there for him, but she couldn’t do that if he didn’t let her in. She was heading to the elevators when she spotted Damien in the Grand Caf?. She hadn’t hung out with him one-on-one since the incident over the summer when she’d kissed him while drunk, but maybe he had a better idea of what was going on with Oliver. Despite her misgivings, she walked over to him. He had a plate of the happy-hour meatballs and was doing something on his phone. He put it down when he saw her. A year ago, they would have already greeted each other and slipped into easy conversation. Now, his dark eyes watched her suspiciously. She missed the friendship they used to have. “Hey.” She smiled and forced herself to sound upbeat. “Mind if I join you?” “Go ahead.” He motioned for her to take the seat across from him, and she did. “Feel free to have a meatball.” The scent of the marinara and basil made her mouth water, but she ordered a freshly made “Green Machine” juice instead. “So, what’s up?” she asked. “Just grabbing a snack before hitting up the gym.” He leaned back and studied her. “What about you?” This was officially the most stilted conversation she’d ever had with Damien. Luckily, her drink arrived, and she swirled her straw around, taking a sip. She pursed her lips at the bitterness of the green juice. Damien finally smiled. “Not a fan of green juice?” “I’m getting used to it,” she said. “According to the juice expert I follow online, pure green juice is the healthiest, but it doesn’t taste as good because there’s no sugar added from fruits.” She took another sip, trying not to make a face this time. “Well, good luck with that,” he said. “Thanks.” She drank some water to chase away the taste. “Anyway, I saw you here and figured it would be a good time to ask—have you heard from Oliver lately? He doesn’t pick up when I call, and when I do hear from him, it’s just a vague text. I’m worried about him.” “It’s been the same for me,” Damien replied. “He told me that he’s going through some stuff and that he needs space.” “But it’s been over a month,” Madison said. “He should be back in school. Or at least he should want to see his friends.” “Didn’t you have a fight with him before he left Savannah’s party?” “Yeah.” She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. She hadn’t told anyone the details about the fight, and she didn’t plan to. It was too humiliating. “But Oliver and I have been friends for years. One fight doesn’t change that.” “Depends on what it was about.” “It doesn’t matter,” she lied. “It was stupid.” “If you say so.” He popped another meatball in his mouth, looking off into the distance as he chewed. “But I’m worried about Oliver, too. I’d hoped he was at least talking to you.” “He’s not.” She sighed. “I hate this. I want to be there for him, but I can’t if he won’t even talk to me.” “I know what you mean,” Damien agreed. “I think that if by the weekend he’s still hiding out, we should go to his place and see what we can do.” “You mean go there and refuse to leave until he sees us?” “Exactly,” he said. “It’ll be easiest if we do it together. As a team. Unless you have a better idea.” “If I had one, I would have told you already,” she said. “That idea sounds as good as any. We might as well give it a shot.” “So we’ll do it this weekend.” He sipped his soda, watching her as if he was waiting for her to say something else. “Anyway, I’m glad you came over here. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.” “After what happened last summer, you told me that things couldn’t go back to how they were between us,” she said softly. “I assumed you meant it, so I gave you space. Isn’t that what you wanted?” “Come on, Mads.” The use of the nickname made her heart ache. “I was angry at first, but you know me—I get over things fast. We’ve been friends for years, and while I used to want more, what you said to me in that hotel room was right—a relationship wouldn’t work between us.” “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it came out mean when I said it. I’ve felt awful about it ever since.” “You definitely could have been nicer about it,” he said. “But what you said got me thinking. You have your whole life figured out. You’re ambitious, determined and independent. Which is all awesome...but me and you together would be a disaster. I want to be with someone who wants my help and support. Someone who still has ambitions of her own, but who looks up to me, and who I can be there for no matter what.” “You want someone who makes you feel needed.” “It sounds lame and old-fashioned when you put it that way, but yeah, pretty much,” he said. “And you’ve never needed me—at least not like that.” Madison blinked, amazed that this was all coming from Damien. Despite how long they’d been friends, he’d never struck her as particularly insightful. “You’ll find that person,” she said. “I know you will. But I’m glad you’re moving on.” “I’ve already moved on.” He smirked. “I did months ago.” “Right,” she said. “Of course you did.” Sometimes she forgot that while she’d been in a haze these past few months, everyone else’s lives had gone on without her. “So, who’s the lucky girl? Is it Savannah? Or that redheaded friend of hers you were flirting with at her party?” “I wasn’t flirting with Evie.” He ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. “Evie was in a corner alone, and she looked sad, so I went over to cheer her up because I felt bad for her. She took it the wrong way and threw herself at me. I tried letting her down easily, but Savannah saw us...and it turned into a mess.” Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/michelle-madow/diamonds-are-forever/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.