The Secret Diamond Sisters

“The Residences Tower and the Hotel Tower are connected by a hallway, so while you’ll live in the Residences, you can go back and forth to the hotel as you please,” Bernard said, his mouth barely moving as he spoke. “Would you like a tour first, or should I show you to your condo?”

“We’ll go to the condo,” Peyton said before Courtney had time to speak. Savannah pouted, but Peyton ignored her. She didn’t want to clue in Bernard that she cared. There would be time for exploring alone later.

“If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll be happy to show you around,” Bernard said, leading them down the tree-lined path to the casino. The casino played a song of its own—slot machines dinging, chips clacking as the dealer passed them out to the players at the tables, and the chatter of people throwing down money with the hope of hitting it big. There was a faint smell of cigarette smoke, but the casino must have a great ventilation system, because it wasn’t overpowering like the smoke in the Indian casino Peyton had gone to once with her friends in San Fran. Some of the machines even spoke in happy, cartoon-sounding voices, asking people to give the game a try or coaxing them to continue playing. It was a carnival for adults. The red carpet was new and plushy, and waitresses with model bodies wearing tight, low-cut gold dresses walked around delivering drinks. A person could get lost for days in a place like this.

Peyton caught sight of a sign saying Main Elevators, but Bernard continued past it.

“I thought we were going to the condo?” she asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her as he continued on. “There are separate elevators for those living on the top ten floors. Follow me.”

Special elevators. Top ten floors. Peyton felt farther away from home than ever. Everyone walking around the hotel was dressed up like they were headed somewhere special—even the bathing suit cover-ups people wore looked designer—and Peyton had never felt more out of place. She wasn’t going to change for anyone, though, so she would have to act like she didn’t notice. She never let not fitting in bother her at home, and that wasn’t going to be different now. Instead, she would see it as standing out. The thought gave her a rush of empowerment.

Once inside the elevator, Bernard stuck a shiny gold key card into a slot above the buttons and pushed Floor 75—the highest one. No wonder they needed separate elevators. They would have to constantly stop for people to get off and on otherwise.

“Here are your keys,” Bernard told them, pulling identical cards out of his pocket and handing them out. Diamond Residences was printed on them in the same swirling font Peyton had seen at the top of the building. She mumbled, “Thanks,” and shoved hers into the back pocket of her shorts.

When they reached floor 75, the elevator doors opened, and Bernard motioned them to exit before him. This hallway had thick ruby carpeting, and the paneled walls were topaz and white. Crystal chandeliers hung from above, and classical music played from invisible speakers, providing a calm atmosphere very different from the excitement below.

Bernard led the way, and Peyton and her sisters followed. “As you can see, there’s an exclusive gym here for the use of everyone living in the penthouses,” he told them, motioning to the right. “Inside are the highest-quality machines available. We also have outstanding trainers on staff who will happily work with you personally, and group fitness classes that take place in the main gym downstairs.”

Peyton looked through the glass windows that separated the hall from the gym. She never went to the gym at home. Savannah went enough for both of them, especially during sports season. Inside on an elliptical cross-trainer was a girl with straight hair so dark it was almost black. She looked around Peyton’s or Courtney’s age. Her oval-shaped face, tanned skin and cat-shaped eyes made her look like a snobby movie star. Next to her was a tall tanned guy with brown hair and dark eyes. He was cute. More than cute—he was way hotter than her own boyfriend of the month, Mike.

The thought of Mike reminded Peyton of the phone call she would have to make in the next few days to break up with him. He had to know it was coming. It was no secret that Peyton never stayed with a guy for longer than a few months, and she didn’t want to do the long-distance thing.

Trusting a guy in a different city only meant trouble.

Trying not to think about Mike, Peyton gave the guy working out a seductive smile. He either didn’t see her, or he ignored her, instead smiling at Savannah. Jerk. Savannah wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning pink.

Apparently he wasn’t into Peyton’s look. Not like it bothered Peyton. There were other guys out there.

Then the dark-haired girl turned to the guy, said something to him, and laughed.

Peyton shook her head and kept walking. She had no interest in hanging out with judgmental bitches. And yes, she was referring to both the girl and the guy.

Bernard led them to the end of the hallway and stopped at a golden double-door entrance to insert the key card into the slot. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, pushing the door open and waving them inside.

chapter 4:

Madison Lockhart didn’t like the Diamond sisters already.

At least, she assumed they were the girls who had just passed by the gym. It wasn’t every day that three girls who looked alike walked around the top floor. They had to be Adrian Diamond’s daughters.

And her parents wanted her to be friends with them. So not happening. One of them looked like a total freak who had come straight off a Cirque du Soleil stage, with blue streaks in her hair, goth bracelets up her arm and so much black eyeliner that she could be on the set of Cleopatra. The petite one looked like she was trying to be fashionable but was failing miserably, and the tallest one looked like she had just rolled out of bed.

“Two of them are hot,” Damien said from the elliptical next to her.

Madison tried not to show her irritation. “I didn’t know you were into blondes,” she said smoothly.

“You’re right. I do prefer brunettes,” Damien said with a sly grin. “But seeing as my favorite brunette always has her sights elsewhere, I’ve gotta have my fun, too.”

“And you think those girls look fun?” Madison rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Damien smirked. “Are you...jealous?”

“No.” Jealous because Damien thought those girls were hot? Yeah, right. “But the one with the blue streaks seemed like she liked you. Maybe you should go for her.”

“The little one was more my type,” Damien answered. “And she looked the most innocent. Which makes her the most interesting.”

“Whatever,” Madison said again, focusing on the screen in front of her. She’d burned 150 calories working out, and she’d eaten about 400 so far that day, which equaled a net of 250. If she was careful during dinner she should be able to stay under her maximum calorie goal of 800 a day. She would have to watch what she drank tonight, as well. Alcohol had calories, too—about 100 calories per glass of wine, to be exact. Not that Madison liked being wasted. Acting like an idiot and doing things she would regret wasn’t her style.

She upped the incline of her workout, the muscles in her legs burning, and grabbed the bottle of ice water in her cup holder to take a sip. Damien watched her every movement. Their flirting was always playful, but Madison suspected if she wanted to take their friendship to the next level, he would jump on the opportunity. He was probably saying that stuff about the Diamond sisters to make her jealous.

The explanation satisfied Madison. No way would she let his comments affect her. Besides, at least having Damien around didn’t make her feel as terrible about Brett Carmel’s rejection a few weeks ago.

Her feelings for Brett didn’t make any sense. Her friends thought he was a major loser. They were right, but ever since she’d tutored him in biology last semester, she’d known he was different. His deep forest-green eyes always made him appear to be thinking about something important, and while she would never admit it to anyone, she was intrigued by the way he blew off everyone at Goodman to hang out with his public-school friends. He was always talking about an indie movie or local band they were going to see—activities that Madison’s friends would never dream of attending. It was like a foreign world, and hearing Brett talk about it made her curious about what it would be like to not worry about being photographed in the same outfit in too short a time span, or to not feel like she had to constantly entertain the people around her. She had mastered maintaining a perfect balance of being exciting, funny, charming, confident, inclusive to her friends, and exclusive to those who couldn’t keep up with them. She loved having that control, but it did get exhausting at times.

Before meeting Brett, she never would have considered going for an outsider like him. But the way he’d looked at her two weeks ago at Myst when they’d made out for practically the entire night—it was like he’d really cared about her. Like he’d thought there was a possibility of more between them.

Then again, he’d been drinking that night. The next day he’d told her he wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend, since they had too many differences to make it work, and that they should go back to the way things were before.

Too bad Madison didn’t agree. How could he ignore the chemistry between them? His resistance only made her want him more, and he would be at Myst tonight, so Madison would find a way to capture his attention.

Energized by her determination, she picked up her speed on the elliptical. She’d never had a problem getting guys to notice her. Why should it be different with Brett?

“Madison?” Damien’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She tried to push Brett from her mind. “Yeah?” she said, doing her best to look cheery.

“You seem upset. What’s going on?” Damien’s face softened, and Madison’s heart twisted in guilt. Why couldn’t she want him instead of Brett?

“Nothing.” She smiled and shook her head, making sure to appear untroubled. “Just figuring out what to wear to the Fourth of July party tonight.”

“Very deep thoughts.” Damien chuckled, his eyes roaming up and down her body. “You’ll look great in whatever you pick. You could wear what you’re wearing now and you would still be the hottest girl there.”

Madison glanced at her gym clothes and scrunched her perfect ski-slope nose in a way she knew looked cute. Okay, she was more than aware that the tight black shorts and pink sports bra showed off her curves. And she totally wore stuff like that when she worked out with Damien because she liked catching him admiring her. But she would never wear it to a party—especially not one at Myst. She needed to stand out in a good way. No guy she was interested in had ever turned her down, and she wouldn’t let Brett be the first.

Damien slowed his machine and came to a stop.

“Ending your workout early?” she asked.

He picked up a towel and wiped sweat from his forehead, messing up his dark hair. “The Diamond sisters are most likely in their condo right now,” he said. “I might as well stop by and introduce myself. See if they want a tour of the building...”

Madison’s grip tightened around the handles of the elliptical. Why was she getting upset about Damien’s interest in those girls? Damien went from girl to girl all the time, and she had never given it a second thought. No matter what girl he was with, he’d made it clear he would drop them if Madison wanted to take their friendship to the next level. Which she didn’t. So she had nothing to be jealous about.

But something about those Diamond girls bothered her.

“Want to come with me?” Damien asked. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” He shot her the smile that made most girls fall all over him, but Madison wouldn’t be falling all over Damien anytime soon. Or ever.

“No, thanks.” She brushed off the invitation, acting like she didn’t care. She shouldn’t care. She was prettier than those girls, and he was only trying to make her jealous. So much for her mom telling her to be welcoming to them. It technically wasn’t fair to dislike someone before meeting them, but Madison didn’t want to get to know the Diamond girls, and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. “I have fifteen minutes left on my workout. Then I have to get ready for tonight. You’re still coming to dinner with our friends before the party, right?”

“Our friends” was the term coined by Madison for anyone important at Goodman—at least when the people in her group used it.

Damien swung the towel around his neck, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he backed up to the doors. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

www.campusbuzz.com

High Schools > Nevada > Las Vegas > The Goodman School

Fourth of July party at Myst

Posted on Monday 07/04 at 03:40 PM

If you’re like me, then you’re going to the Fourth of July party at Myst tonight. With access to the VIP floor on the third level, obvii. (But the pool on the first floor is always fun. Especially with the caves that you can swim into if you want some private time with one other person, if you know what I mean).

Basically, if you go to Goodman, you should be there tonight. Everyone else will be.

Cya in a few!

1: Posted on Monday 07/04 at 04:06 PM

I think the new girls will be there tonight, too. The Diamond sisters. Rumor has it they arrived in the Diamond Jet this afternoon and were seen in the hotel lobby gazing around the place like they’ve never seen a casino in their life.

2: Posted on Monday 07/04 at 04:32 PM

That’s cause they’re from some hick town. They’re probably losers. Don’t get too excited about them.

3: Posted on Monday 07/04 at 05:40 PM

hick town or not, i hear they’re HOT!!!!

chapter 5:

Is this actually happening?

That was the first thing Savannah thought when she stepped through the golden double doors into the condo. Her condo. Her breath caught in her chest at the realization that this was where she would be living for the rest of the summer. It was unreal; a palace in the sky, the type of place Savannah saw in magazines but never imagined seeing in real life, let alone living in. Marble floors, mirrored walls, shining tables, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bustling Strip—and that was just what she could see from the entrance.

That, and a round glass-topped table in the middle of the foyer with a crystal bowl on it. Inside the bowl was a note surrounded by three black credit cards, like petals on a flower.

“Mr. Diamond left a message for you.” Bernard motioned toward the bowl. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be going back downstairs. Your luggage will be up shortly, and there’s a butler button on your phone if you need to reach me. I’m happy to assist you in any way necessary.”

Bernard was their butler? This was beyond awesome. She wasn’t sure why she would need to call a butler, but she would have to find a reason to do so soon. Something that cool couldn’t go unused.

“Okay,” Savannah said, pretending to be the type of person who called butlers all the time. She didn’t want him to think she was unsophisticated. “Will do! Thanks, Bernard.”

The second Bernard left, Savannah hurried to the table, snatched up the envelope and opened it. This was the first piece of communication they’d ever had from their father. Her heart pounded. Of course, she was more looking forward to meeting him in person, but this was better than nothing.

Her sisters gathered around her, and she unfolded the letter, admiring the elegant script and reading out loud:

“Dear Peyton, Courtney and Savannah,

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to greet you upon your arrival. I had an urgent meeting, and I don’t know how long it’s going to run. I will be by as soon as it is over.

We will be going to dinner tonight at 7:30 p.m. before the Fourth of July party at Myst in the hotel, so please use this time to get ready. I am sure you have much unpacking and settling in to do. In case you need to reach me, my personal cell number is [phone]. I live next door in condo 7500, so this one is your own. I hope you find it to your liking.

Sincerely,

Adrian Diamond

PS: The credit cards are yours. Feel free to use them for whatever you would like.”

Savannah frowned and placed the letter down on the table. It wasn’t the warm greeting she’d hoped for, but at least he’d promised he would be by soon. Her head spun at the notion that she would be meeting her father today—and that he was the Adrian Diamond. This had to be a dream, or a parallel universe, or something fantastical. If it were a dream, she was determined to enjoy it until she woke up.

Noticing the black American Express cards again, she picked up the one with her name on its bottom-left corner. Was this for real? She’d heard of these before, because famous people had them, and now she was holding one with her name on it. The card was cool against her skin, like it was made out of metal instead of plastic, and it was thick and heavy, so it didn’t bend like a normal credit card. Would it even slide through a swipe machine? She hit it against her palm, surprised by the echo of the metal. Rock-solid, it felt indestructible.

“I wonder what the limit is on these,” Courtney mused, picking up hers and examining the back.

“Limit?” Savannah threw her hair over her shoulder and held the card up higher, admiring how it gleamed under the light. “We flew here on a private jet. I doubt there’s a limit.”

Courtney pressed her lips together, as if Savannah had said something wrong. “Maybe not, but no matter what the limit is, it’s not our money. We’ll ask Adrian about our budget once he gets here.”

Leave it to Courtney to suck the fun out of the situation. If she couldn’t see the possibilities in an unlimited credit card, maybe Peyton could. But Peyton’s blue eyes looked like they were about to burst into flames.

“All it takes is a stupid credit card and a dumb letter, and you’ve forgotten how Adrian has ignored us until now.” Peyton stomped to a small trash can and dropped her card inside. It hit the metal with a resounding clang. “He hasn’t even bothered to meet us yet. I won’t take his bribe money—I have more dignity than that.”

Whatever that meant. Savannah exhaled, rescued the card from the trash (luckily it was the only thing in there) and slid it in her back pocket so Peyton couldn’t try to toss it again. Peyton and Courtney were bringing everything down. She wished Evie were here. Unlike Courtney and Peyton, Evie would see the potential in what she could buy with an unlimited credit card.

Savannah ran her thumbs over the raised lettering on her card’s metallic surface, amazed she was seeing her name on a black American Express. In his letter, Adrian had said they could use the credit cards for whatever they wanted, and Savannah planned on doing just that. Finally she could get her boring, dark blond hair highlighted, and maybe get extensions to make it thicker and prettier than Courtney’s. She could buy pigmented high-quality makeup instead of the cheap chalky stuff from the drugstore, expensive clothing from the department stores she walked through when she went to the mall but could never afford, designer sunglasses and shoes.... The list went on. She could already see herself walking down the Las Vegas Strip like a movie star or a pop singer. Everyone would stare at her as she walked by.... It would be incredible. She could also get a quality guitar to replace the beat up one with the warped neck she had now that went out of tune all the time—one with solid wood to give it rich, resonant sound, and better action to make it easier to play—like a Taylor or a Martin. Maybe she would get both, for the fun of it. Or start a collection. A new guitar could be the push she needed to bring her music to the next level.

This would be the start of a new, better Savannah Diamond. She couldn’t wait to get home once her mom was better and see the reactions from the girls on the volleyball team, and from the guys in school. Finally, Savannah would be noticed.

Then she remembered the idea she’d had while reading Adrian’s note.

Gripping the card, Savannah rushed down the hallway. Her sisters hurried behind her, Courtney asking where she was off to so fast. The two doors on the left were close together, and she opened both of them.

Both bedrooms were the same size, so they weren’t what she was looking for. She rushed back down the hallway and through the living area, past a sleek wooden dining set, cream-colored armchairs, a sofa in front of a gigantic flat-screen television and an eating area near the granite-countertopped kitchen. Then she arrived at the carved white-wooden double doors at the far end of the condo.

Savannah flung open the doors and raised a fist in victory. The huge bedroom had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Strip, allowing beams of sunlight to stream inside, and it was enormous—bigger than the entire apartment she’d shared with her mom and sisters in Fairfield. She ran across the plush carpeting and jumped onto the king-size bed, the white comforter cushioning her fall, so soft that she sank right into it. She stretched her arms over her head and leaned back into the mountain of pillows stacked in front of the headboard. A white vanity backed against the wall—perfect for doing makeup—and across from the bed stood a glass table with two cream-colored chairs facing a flat-screen television. Mirrors separated by white wooden panels covered the interior walls, and Savannah looked over her shoulder to smile at her reflection.

“I guess you’re claiming this room?” Courtney asked from the doorway.

Savannah sank deeper into the pillows, enjoying the feeling of the silk against her skin. “I found it first,” she declared, staring dreamily up at the ceiling. A crystal chandelier hung in the center, the lights sparkling everywhere, and Savannah felt like a modern princess. Still, she checked to see if Courtney looked upset. Savannah wanted to keep this room—and she had a feeling her sisters would let her—but she didn’t want Courtney to be unhappy about it. Most people didn’t know when Courtney was mad, since she didn’t scream or lose her temper, but Savannah could always tell because she got withdrawn and more polite than usual.

“I don’t mind,” Courtney assured her, and Savannah could tell by her genuine tone that she honestly wasn’t upset. “I don’t have enough stuff to fill one of the other rooms up, let alone this one. And each room has a private bathroom.”

“Private bathrooms?” Savannah’s eyes widened. “Finally! Now I won’t get yelled at to hurry up in the morning.”

“I never yell at you,” Courtney said.

“Peyton does,” Savannah said, thinking of how Peyton banged on the door of the shared bathroom in their apartment and screamed at her to get out when she wasn’t halfway done getting ready. “But now she won’t have to.”

Peyton joined Courtney in the doorway. “I only yell because you use my makeup,” she said, leaning against the wall and snapping her gum. “Not that it matters, since I plan on getting out of here as soon as I can, but you can have this room. None of us need this much space. We won’t have enough stuff to fill the smaller rooms, let alone this one.”

Savannah ignored Peyton’s comment about “getting out of here”—it was just Peyton being stubborn, and Grandma had made it clear they had to stay with their father until Mom was better. She felt guilty for rushing to claim the master bedroom knowing her sisters would have given it to her if she’d asked, but the doorbell rang before she could apologize.