The Secret Diamond Sisters
“It’s good,” Savannah replied. “Are you sure you don’t want some? We probably won’t have an opportunity to taste something as expensive as this ever again.” She took another sip, relishing the citrusy taste. She’d bet the champagne cost more than the Longchamp bag Evie had just gotten for her birthday. Savannah wished she had a phone that could send picture texts, so she could show Evie and some of the other girls from the team what she was drinking. They would be so jealous.
“I’m sure.” Courtney shook her head. “It’s first thing in the morning, and the champagne isn’t even ours.”
Savannah shrugged at Courtney’s goody-goody attitude and looked over at Peyton, who was lost in iPod land and ignoring her.
Savannah decided to change that. She lifted the half-filled glass to her lips and threw her head back, taking a large gulp. It fizzed going down her throat, the liquid swirling in her stomach as it made its way down.
“Getting drunk first thing in the morning?” Peyton removed one of her earbuds and dropped it onto her lap. “You’ll end up like Mom.”
“Is that necessary?” The harshness in Courtney’s usually calm voice took Savannah by surprise. “Mom messed up, but she tried. Don’t be so hard on her. But Peyton’s right,” she said, refocusing on Savannah. “You shouldn’t be drinking—not after everything with Mom. I know you think she doesn’t care about what you do, but she wouldn’t want you to repeat her mistakes.”
“I’m not like Mom,” Savannah insisted. “I only wanted a glass. I mean, it’s Dom Pérignon. Do you know how many people would kill to try this? Besides, Mom would have finished the bottle by now.”
“She would have,” Peyton agreed—which surprised Savannah, because Peyton never agreed with anything she said. “Which made it real easy for our nonexistent father to take us away from home without giving us any say.”
“The nonexistent father who she led us to believe was a homeless drug addict,” Savannah said. “Which he clearly isn’t. Not if he can afford all this. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe...”
“Don’t tell me you’re wishing he’s that big-time hotel owner again,” Peyton said. “Just because he rented a limo to get us doesn’t mean anything. He wasted all this money trying to impress us, and it won’t make me like him after he ignored us for our whole lives. Besides, you know there are seventy-five people with the last name of Diamond in Las Vegas—”
“And twenty thousand in America.” Savannah cut her off, imitating her sister’s superior tone. “I know this. You’ve told me a million times. But it would be cool if he was.”
Okay, it would be more than cool if her father was the Adrian Diamond—the one who owned numerous hotels in Las Vegas and had more money than Savannah could imagine. The life she could have then would be beyond her wildest dreams.
It would be like living in a Las Vegas fairy tale.
“I wouldn’t even want him to be our father,” Peyton continued. “Who the hell goes fifteen years without talking to their daughters and then suddenly wants custody?”
“Our dad,” Courtney said, her voice tight. “But Mom needs to be in rehab. After all the years we tried and failed to convince her to get help, she’s finally there, and I’m glad she’s getting treatment. Just think—in a few months, Mom will be better. And in the meantime, maybe our father won’t be that bad.”
“Are you sure you didn’t have any champagne while I was sleeping?” Peyton snickered and plugged her earbud back in.
Courtney opened her mouth as if she wanted to retaliate, but of course she didn’t. Arguing with Peyton was pointless. Peyton never listened to anyone.
“Maybe you’re right,” Savannah said to Courtney. “He did send a limo. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t care about us.”
“Yeah.” Courtney frowned, her forehead creasing in thought.
Savannah didn’t like seeing her so worried. She wasn’t used to feeling like she had to take care of her sisters. Usually it was the other way around. Her throat tightened, and while she wanted to say something comforting, she had no idea what would help. Instead, she looked out the long window in front of her, the sun lighting up the cloudless California day. The limo exited the highway and passed a large sign announcing their arrival at Napa Valley Airport. There were barely any other cars around, and the airport was small. Only a few boxy buildings and planes were up ahead, and beyond that, the rolling hills of the vineyards in the countryside.
“Is it just me, or does this place seem deserted?” Savannah asked.
“Napa Valley is a private airport,” Courtney said. “I don’t think they have commercial flights.”
“No commercial flights?” Savannah repeated. Because if the airport didn’t have commercial flights, they only had private ones. And that would mean...
Savannah’s stomach swooped at the possibility, and she leaned closer to the window. Could her guess about their father be right?
The road widened, and her heart thumped as they approached the buildings. The limo drove past a few planes—some small, some large—and came to a stop.
Towering in front of them was the biggest private jet of them all, the gold lettering along the side spelling three distinct words:
Diamond Resorts Worldwide.
Adrian Diamond was their father.
chapter 2:
No way.
Courtney stepped out of the limo and stared at the jet. If this plane was for them, sent by their father...then Savannah was right. Courtney had always dismissed her younger sister’s fairy-tale notion that the infamous hotel owner Adrian Diamond could be their father, never considering that Savannah could be right. But unless the limo driver had accidentally picked them up instead of three other Diamond sisters living in a run-down apartment in Fairfield, California—this jet was for them.
Not believing what she was seeing, Courtney examined Savannah’s reaction. Her younger sister had frozen, her mouth dropped open. A breeze blew some of her dark blond hair across her forehead, and she pushed it behind her ears, her eyes fixed on the jet. Courtney would have laughed if she didn’t feel as astonished herself.
“Are you the Diamond sisters?” A low voice belonging to a large man in a white suit pulled Courtney out of the shock. His black hair had been slicked back with enough oil to fuel the plane, and he had one of those square jaws she associated with football players.
She would have assumed he was their father, but his dark features bore no resemblance to their own.
“Yes.” Courtney looked him in the eye and stood straighter. “I’m Courtney. This is Peyton and Savannah.”
“I’m Captain Rogers.” He held out a strong hand in greeting. Courtney shook it, then quickly dropped her arm back to her side. “I’ll be taking care of you today.”
So he wasn’t their father. Adrian Diamond must have more important things to do with his time than pick his daughters up himself.
Not that Courtney expected much from the man who hadn’t spoken to them in fifteen years. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he had some major explaining to do when they met. Courtney didn’t know how she was going to handle that. What could he say to make it okay that he’d disappeared from their lives? There was no good reason for that, especially for someone as well-off as Adrian Diamond. What could have happened for him to want nothing to do with her or her sisters? For him to have abandoned them?
Her head spun, and realizing her breaths had become shallow, she forced herself to inhale deep and gain control of the situation. She would handle this like she handled everything—one step at a time. There had to be a logical reason why Adrian Diamond hadn’t been involved in the lives of his three daughters.
But as much as Courtney hated to admit it, they could have used his support. If he’d helped them out growing up—just a little bit—she had no idea how different her life would be. She hadn’t minded getting a job to help her family, but if she’d had more time to focus on her studies instead of having to pick up extra shifts to pay bills, her grades and practice SATs would have been better. They weren’t bad—she had a 3.76 GPA and her practice test scores were above the 90th percentile—but with more time to study, she could have improved.
Courtney wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at the plane. All she could do now was focus on meeting her father. Peyton was so angry, and Savannah was so hopeful, that neither of them could approach this rationally. Her sisters needed her to be the one in charge.
“So do we just...get on?” Peyton pointed her thumb at the entrance steps to the plane, which were surrounded by security guards.
The captain laughed. “If you’re ready to depart, then yes. You can ‘just get on.’”
“And the plane is going where?” Courtney asked.
“Las Vegas,” he answered.
“Vegas!” Savannah clapped her hands. “I knew it!”
Seeing a movement in her peripheral vision, Courtney glanced at the van with their luggage, which had followed the limo to the airport. Three men of varying ages had already opened the back doors and were unloading it. They didn’t have much to worry about—only six duffels between the three of them, and Savannah’s beat-up guitar. Last night, Grandma had helped them pack all their stuff from the bedroom the three of them shared.
The captain motioned toward the jet as if he was saying “all aboard” with his hand. Savannah bolted for the stairs, her hair flying behind her. Courtney followed, and she heard Peyton stomping behind.
Courtney couldn’t believe this was happening. A private plane? Maybe she was dreaming. Savannah’s ideas about their father being the Adrian Diamond must have invaded her subconscious. But while Courtney had vivid dreams, they were nothing like this. She felt the cold metal of the railing against her hand when she walked up the steps, and smelled the warmth of summer as it blew through the air. If her mom could see them now, she wouldn’t believe it.
Then Courtney realized her mom would believe it. Because her mom had known who their father was, and she’d never told Courtney or her sisters. Even Peyton had been too young when they’d moved to remember him. Their mom had always said she didn’t want the girls growing up in the dangerous environment their father lived in, and left it at that. The divorce papers for the short marriage had gone through right after Savannah was born, and their mother had always refused to discuss him, other than to say that his lifestyle wasn’t appropriate for raising children. It had been her decision, but Courtney figured if he’d wanted them around, he would have done something about it. He hadn’t, so she’d done her best not to think about him. Getting upset about the past accomplished nothing.
So what made him care now? Courtney couldn’t ignore what was right in front of her—their father was a powerful man. If he’d wanted to be in their lives, he could have made it happen.
But she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. She would sort out her feelings when she was able to hear the responses to her questions from her father himself.
Courtney reached the top of the stairs and stepped through the door. The jet was unlike anything she could have imagined. It looked like a fancy living room; the tubular shape and the windows along the walls were the only hints that they were in a plane. Down the aisle were four cream-colored seats, two on each side facing each other, and farther back against the walls were matching leather sofas. There was even a dining area at the end, with a dark brown wooden table and four chairs. Every inch of wood shined like it had been coated with layers of gloss, and the cream leather of the seats and sofas looked and smelled brand-new. It was as though they were the first people to ever step inside.
Courtney had only seen planes in movies, and those were commercial ones. She’d had no idea they could be like this.
She had never felt so out of place, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do next.
Savannah jumped onto one of the couches and sprawled across it, apparently not sharing Courtney’s discomfort. “This is awesome!” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Can you believe this is happening? Limos, private planes... It doesn’t seem real.”
“And moving to a city where we know no one, to meet a father who hasn’t spoken to us in fifteen years,” Courtney reminded her, sitting on the sofa across from Savannah.
“Maybe he has a good reason,” Savannah said hopefully.
Peyton slumped into the couch with Courtney and leaned against the opposite armrest. Her torn black tights, jean shorts with the pockets hanging out of the bottom and gray striped T-shirt were out of place here, but she didn’t look a bit uncomfortable.
“Don’t be naive,” Peyton said, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “This is nice and all, but don’t let it blind you to how our father ignored us for our whole lives. If you act impressed by his money when you meet him, he’ll think it means you forgive him. And I sure as hell don’t. It actually makes me angrier. If he has all this money, we wouldn’t have been a burden to him. He should have reached out to us before now. The only reason he didn’t is because he doesn’t give a shit about us.”
“We should remember what Grandma told us and listen to what he has to say,” Courtney said, although she’d had the same worries herself. “We have to hear his side, even though it’s hard to imagine what good excuse he could have.”
“Because he can’t have one,” Peyton sneered. “It’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Savannah shot back. “Stop being so negative.”
“I’m not being negative.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “Just realistic.”
“So you’re not going to give him a chance?”
“He doesn’t deserve one,” Peyton replied. “And if you’d stop freaking out because ‘Omigod, we’re in a private jet!’ then maybe you’d see that.”
Courtney looked back and forth between the two of them. If they were going to be like this when they met their father, it was going to be disastrous. Luckily a flight attendant asked them if they wanted any drinks before Savannah and Peyton could argue any more.
The captain made sure they were ready to go, and Courtney moved to a window seat, pressing her forehead against the glass. She tapped her nails against the armrest as the plane sped up, and her stomach flipped as they rose into the sky, the world below shrinking to resemble a clay model. Everything was so small that she felt like she could reach down and pluck a truck right off the road.
She still felt like she was in a dream. Less than a week ago, she was working extra shifts at Starbucks to help her mom pay rent and make sure they had enough groceries for the week. Now she was flying in a private plane to Vegas, about to meet the father she’d never known.
Things like this didn’t happen in real life.
But they were happening in hers.
chapter 3:
Even Peyton had to admit that the Las Vegas Strip was impressive from above. The mishmash of buildings along both sides of the wide street looked like it had been dropped randomly in the endless brown desert, and no two hotels looked similar. There was a shiny black pyramid, a medieval castle, matching gold-plated towers, a massive green building that reflected the sunlight and a tall one at the end that looked like the Seattle Space Needle, just to name a few.
Peyton wondered which one was her father’s.
Her father. Adrian Diamond. The owner of Diamond Resorts Worldwide.
It was completely unreal.
And it pissed Peyton off.
She clenched her fists, pressing her fingernails into her palms to release some of the anger. Someone who made zero effort to get to know his daughters had to be a horrible person. Peyton didn’t blame her mother for not accepting charity from him. Not after he married her, only for her to find out four years—and three children—later that his life was “too dangerous” to have a family and he didn’t want them around anymore. It was way messed up.
No, Peyton didn’t blame her mother at all. She admired her for it. Her mother had raised them to the best of her ability—until the constant drinking came into the picture. She’d always had an alcohol problem, but it had gotten way worse when she’d lost her secretary job a year ago. Then Peyton had had to watch her mom come home drunk every night, usually with a sleazy guy she’d picked up at a bar. She’d wanted to move out and get her own apartment—especially after one of her mom’s boyfriends kept hitting on her and trying to touch her. Peyton had told him to back off and threatened to call the cops on him if he laid a finger on her or her sisters. That had stopped him from going too far, but she’d shuddered whenever he’d looked at her, and she’d warned her sisters to never be alone with him. She’d tried to tell her mom what was going on, but her mother had just called her a slut and said she was asking for it by leading him on. Peyton couldn’t have been happier when her mom had discovered he was cheating with a young bartender and told him to get lost.
She wouldn’t have been able to get her own apartment anyway, because no one would rent to a seventeen-year-old, and while she didn’t get along with her sisters all the time, she could never leave Courtney and Savannah to handle their mother and her boyfriends alone. They needed her—especially Savannah, who didn’t know how bad things were. With Courtney always at work and Savannah at sports practice or out with her friends, it was up to Peyton to do damage control, pouring her mom’s alcohol down the sink and helping her sober up before the other two got home. Her mother yelled at her, calling her a bitch and a slut, but Peyton didn’t care. She’d learned not to take the name-calling personally, and whipping her mom into shape and cleaning the apartment before her sisters got home was her responsibility. Courtney did her part by taking extra shifts at work to pay the bills, and Savannah was too young and naive to have to deal with it.
But with her mom continuing to go downhill, Peyton couldn’t have kept it up for much longer. Maybe Adrian Diamond really did care that their living situation had gone down the tubes.
But she doubted it.
The plane landed, and another limo pulled onto the tarmac to pick them up. After thanking the captain and saying goodbye, Peyton and her sisters got into the backseat and headed off to wherever they were going.
Guess it would have been too inconvenient for their father to come to the airport to greet the daughters he hadn’t seen since they were babies. Peyton clenched her jaw, grinding her molars together. It was just more proof he didn’t care about them.
Add it to the overflowing list.
The airport was close to the Vegas Strip, and while Peyton didn’t want to like the place where her asshole of a father lived, she couldn’t help admiring the hotels as the limo drove by. Some were themed like cities—New York, Paris, Venice—while others were shiny and glitzy. One had a gigantic fountain in front of it, the bursts of water dancing to a classical number coming from invisible outdoor speakers. A crowd had gathered around the railing to watch. Even the Denny’s sign was surrounded by flashing lights. Everyone walking along the sidewalk was laughing and having fun, a lot of them sipping colorful drinks that were two feet tall. It was only the afternoon, but that didn’t seem to stop anyone from starting to party.
Or maybe they were continuing the party from the night before.
Finally the limo pulled up to two crescent-shaped gold-plated buildings standing side by side, stretching high into the sky. They had to be the tallest buildings on the Strip. Lighter shades of gold lined the tops and bottoms of every floor, eventually stopping to leave a wide space for swirling cursive writing on the top. Peyton held her hand over her forehead to shield the sunlight, squinting to make out the words. The farther building said The Diamond Hotel, and the closer one The Diamond Residences.
“Wow.” Savannah pressed her hand against the window as they pulled into the circular drive of the Residences. Limos and luxury sedans lined the curb, and wide columns surrounded the golden double doors. Two men in white suits flanked the entrance, their hands clasped in front of them, their hair gelled back so they looked nearly identical. Beside each of them stood pedestals with arrogant sphinxlike gold lions.
Peyton had never seen anything like it.
The limo stopped in front of the entrance, and one of the men opened the door on Peyton’s side. She stepped out into the stifling desert heat and breathed in the stale dry air, focusing on her physical discomfort to hide her astonishment at her surroundings. She wanted to look pissed at her father, not like she was reveling in the energy of Las Vegas.
Before she could take another step, an elderly man—also in a white suit—approached them. He had wrinkled skin, wispy gray hair, and thin lips that looked like they were permanently pressed together. Surely he couldn’t be their father. Peyton didn’t think Adrian Diamond would be so...old. Then she caught sight of the gold badge pinned to his suit. Unless Adrian had changed his name to Bernard, this man wasn’t him.
Peyton exhaled and crossed her arms. Her father hadn’t bothered to meet them at the airport or the hotel. This was not a good start to whatever relationship Adrian Diamond planned on having with them.
If he planned on having a relationship with them at all, which she was starting to seriously doubt.
“Peyton, Courtney and Savannah Diamond?” Bernard asked, giving them a once-over. His lips pressed tighter together when he looked at Peyton. There were only four blue streaks in her hair—and they didn’t stand out much—but Peyton still got the feeling he disapproved. He probably wasn’t a fan of the Hot Topic bracelet collection up her arm, either. She shot a nasty look back at him, and he looked away, nose in the air. Hopefully everyone in Vegas wasn’t this stuck-up.
Courtney stepped forward and told him he had their identities correct. Trust Courtney to take the lead. Most people assumed that because Peyton was oldest, that made her the most responsible of the three.
How wrong they were.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Bernard said. “Mr. Diamond sends his apologies for not being able to greet you himself.”
“Sure he does,” Peyton muttered.
Her hostility only threw Bernard for a second. “I imagine you’re tired after your travels and would like to get situated in your condo,” he said, plastering a smile on his thin lips and motioning to the giant gold doors. “Please follow me.”
“What about our bags?” Courtney pointed to where their stuff was being unloaded from the car behind them.
“Don’t worry about your luggage—the bellhops will bring it up for you.” He turned on the heel of his polished black shoe and led them to the entrance, where two men pulled the doors open for them, and Peyton took her first step inside the Diamond Residences.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it was nothing like this. The inside of the building was magnificent to the point of being otherworldly, and it took her breath away. Marble diamond-shaped tiles lined the floor, with an occasional colorful mosaic design forming the shapes of different gems. There was greenery everywhere, brilliant ferns and trees lit up with white lights surrounding the wide path that led from the entrance to a circular bar in the center of the lobby where people milled around drinking cocktails. Just past the bar, Peyton could make out gaming tables and slot machines. Groups of people dressed in everything from bathing suit cover-ups to expensive dresses walked around, holding pool bags, drinks and shopping bags, smiling and chatting animatedly. The energy was contagious, and Peyton’s veins buzzed as she took in everything around her, but she concentrated on maintaining her outer appearance of boredom. She refused to like anything her father had created.