Читать книгу The Secret Diamond Sisters - Michelle Madow, Michelle Madow - Страница 13

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 (702) 555-2688. 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.

She sat up quickly, the world blurring. Was it Adrian? His note said he wouldn’t be done with his meeting until they finished unpacking, but maybe the meeting hadn’t taken as long as he’d expected. Her stomach flipped, and she looked at her sisters in panic. Could they be about to meet their father? Was she ready to meet her father? She had no idea what she was supposed to do, or what she should say. She wished more than anything her mom or grandma were there to help.

“We should get that.” Courtney’s face paled, her voice so calm that Savannah knew she must be freaking out inside. At least the three of them had each other. They would get through this together.

“What joy,” Peyton huffed, and rolled her eyes. “We get to meet the jerk who screwed us—and Mom—over for our whole lives. This will be enlightening.” Her sarcasm made it clear she thought it would be anything but.

“We should at least listen to what he has to say,” Savannah said, standing up and straightening her shirt. Her body tingled with nerves to the point that she felt like her blood was about to burst out of her skin. Needing to do something with her hands, she ran them through her hair to brush out the tangles. She could do this. Satisfied with her reflection, she marched past her sisters and pulled the front door open.

Standing in front of her was the hot guy she’d seen at the gym. His dark brown hair was messed up in a sexy “just finished working out” way, his black T-shirt clung to his defined abs and his tanned skin glowed as if he spent every day lounging around a pool.

Savannah’s arm dropped to her side, and she stared up at him, speechless. What was he doing here? She’d never had a superhot guy show up at her doorstep. She had no idea what to say to him. If Evie were here, she would come up with something perfect. But she would also take the attention away from Savannah. The tough part about having Evie as a best friend was that they always liked the same guys. And then the guys liked Evie more than Savannah, so Savannah got stuck with the second choice.

This move to Vegas might be the perfect chance to break away from Evie’s shadow. Could Savannah become a different—improved—version of herself just from wanting to?

She wouldn’t know if she didn’t try.

“Who are you?” Peyton narrowed her eyes at the guy and snapped her gum. Of course she had to steal the attention by talking to the hot guy first.

“Damien Sanders,” he replied, barely looking at Peyton before turning back to Savannah. Her heart jumped—maybe all wasn’t lost. “I live on the floor below yours, and noticed you walking by while I was working out in the gym. I didn’t know if you knew anyone here yet, so I figured I would stop over and introduce myself.”

Wow. Not only was he hot, but he was supernice, too.

“No, we don’t know anyone here yet,” Savannah answered, her words coming out faster than she intended. Evie said she always knew when Savannah was nervous because she turned into a talking chipmunk. She took a breath and forced herself to slow down. “Except for you now. We just got here today—we moved here to stay with our dad for a while. I’m Savannah.”

Damien leaned lazily against the door frame. “So you’re the infamous Diamond sisters?”

“Infamous?” Savannah asked. “I’m one of the Diamond sisters, but I didn’t know we were infamous.”

“I’m kidding.” He laughed. “There’s just been some talk about you three, and everyone’s been curious to meet you.”

“Oh, okay.” Savannah knew Adrian Diamond was well-known, but she hadn’t realized that meant people would talk about her and her sisters, too. “Who’s everyone?”

“Just some of us who go to the Goodman School,” he said. “A few of us live here and in nearby condos. Your dad made a donation for the school’s new sports center, and the talk is you’ll be attending in the fall.”

Savannah had hoped her mom would get better before the end of summer so she wouldn’t have to start her sophomore year with total strangers. She bit her lower lip, trying to figure out how to reply in a way that wouldn’t make her sound clueless. “We haven’t talked with our dad about school yet.”

Well, they hadn’t talked to their dad at all yet, but Damien didn’t have to know that. And Savannah hadn’t realized that donations—or any payments—were necessary to go to school. At Fairfield High, new kids just signed up on their first day.

“Too bad,” Damien said. “You’ll have to let me know when you find out. But you’ll be at the Fourth of July party at Myst tonight, right?”

“Yes.” Savannah breathed a sigh of relief at the mention of something she knew a little bit about. That was the place Adrian had mentioned in his note. “Have you been there before?”

“Been there before...” He repeated her question, lingering on every syllable. “Of course I’ve been there before. It’s the hottest new club on the Strip. And it’s the best, just like everything else at the Diamond.”

“Then I can’t wait to check it out tonight,” she said, proud of how cool and collected she sounded. Maybe just being in Vegas would shape her into the Savannah Diamond she dreamed of becoming. Perhaps a talent agent would discover her, and then her dreams of being a pop star would come true.

“You’ll have fun.” He sounded confident, like it was impossible for her to not enjoy herself. “A bunch of us are going to dinner before the party. You three should come.”

“We can’t.” Peyton crossed her arms and glared at Damien, as if he were doing something to seriously piss her off. What was her problem?

Damien ignored her and turned back to Savannah.

“We already have dinner plans with our dad,” Savannah explained, the word dad feeling alien coming from her lips. “Otherwise I would go. But we’ll be at Myst afterwards.”

“I’ll find you there, then,” he said. “My friends and I will be on the third floor—it’s VIP—but I’m sure that’s where you’ll be, too.”

“Right.” Savannah tried to act unfazed, even though she’d never been VIP for anything before. But obviously they would be VIP here, since Adrian—their dad—owned the building. Well, buildings. “Does the club let everyone in? I’m not eighteen yet, so I hope that won’t be a problem....”

“Not eighteen?” Damien faked disbelief in a fun, joking way to let her know he’d already figured that out. “Really?”

“Really.” Savannah laughed. “I’m fifteen.”

“And the rest of you?” He looked at Courtney and Peyton.

“Sixteen,” Courtney answered, sounding like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Savannah wished she could at least pretend to be interested.

“And you?” he asked Peyton.

“Nineteen,” she lied, crossing her arms and giving Damien a stare of death, as if she were daring him to contradict her. Damien didn’t bother. Instead he looked back at Savannah, his eyes gleaming with the knowledge that Peyton was lying.

Savannah couldn’t believe the attention he was giving her. “She’s seventeen,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Same as me,” Damien said. “But thanks for the honesty. I like that in a girl.” He paused to let the words sink in, and continued, “You’re supposed to be over twenty-one to get into the club, but if you’re on the VIP list they won’t bother you. Which you will be.”

“Okay.” Savannah couldn’t stop smiling. Being around Damien made her feel like she’d downed a venti cappuccino. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“It was nice meeting you.” Damien flashed her one last grin before turning to walk down the hall. Savannah thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he called over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight.”

She waved to him and closed the door. After it was shut she leaned against it and smiled, her heart beating so fast that she could float away from happiness. He was the hottest guy she’d ever met—and it seemed like he was interested in her. Not Courtney, who was tall and gorgeous even when she didn’t wear makeup, or Peyton, who was fearless and not afraid to speak her mind. She might have even sounded sophisticated when she talked to him, as if hot guys invited her to VIP parties at trendy nightclubs all the time.

The day couldn’t get more amazing than this.