The Secret Diamond Sisters. Michelle Madow
she looked at Courtney, betrayed by her sister’s reaction. “You never mentioned wanting to go to private school before,” she said.
Courtney looked down at the tablecloth. “That’s because it was never an option.”
Peyton looked at Savannah for support, but her normally talkative sister didn’t say a word. Was she the only one who hated the idea of going to school with overprivileged snobs who would have nothing in common with her?
“I’m not going to Goodman.” Peyton stood her ground. “I’ll go to the local public school instead.”
“How about we compromise?” Adrian said. “You’ll start at Goodman in the fall. If after three months it’s as awful as you imagine, we can discuss other options.”
Peyton thought about it. “One month,” she countered.
“Two months and you have a deal,” Adrian said, with a hint of a smile.
“Fine.” Peyton nodded. “Two months.” She was going to hate it no matter what, but at least being there for two months was better than the entire year.
Nobody said anything for a few seconds, and Peyton felt like she could cut the tension in the air with a steak knife. Finally the waiter walked through the French doors that led to their private dining room, a bottle of champagne in his hand. Thank God. Peyton didn’t think she could stand one more moment of sitting there with no clue what to say. It was ironic, really. She had so much she wanted to know, but no idea how to start asking her questions. Continuing to talk about their family drama in front of Brett and Rebecca would make dinner more awkward than it already was.
Then Peyton realized what she’d thought. Was she worried that something wouldn’t be appropriate to bring up at dinner? The pompous atmosphere of the hotel must be getting to her. Time to change that. She could tell attention made Rebecca uncomfortable, so she might as well start there.
“So,” she started, looking at Rebecca. “How did you two meet? I’m sure our father would have told us, but since he hasn’t bothered to be in our lives until now, we haven’t had much time to talk.” She folded her hands over the table, as though she couldn’t wait to hear the answer to her question.
“Well...” Rebecca lifted her hand to her necklace, looking at Adrian for help.
“Rebecca and I were high-school sweethearts,” Adrian said, his voice confident and strong. He reached for one of Rebecca’s hands and squeezed it. She smiled gratefully at him, and he continued. “But we didn’t go to the same college—she stayed local, while I went to the University of Pennsylvania—and our lives went in different directions. We were in other relationships when I returned to Las Vegas after graduation to invest in my first hotel. Recently we both became single again, and fate brought us back together.”
“How interesting.” Peyton lifted her glass as though making a toast, threw her head back and took a large gulp.
Rebecca reached back to touch her bun, as if a sprayed strand might be out of place. Peyton felt guilty for making Rebecca feel uneasy. She seemed nice, and it did sound like Adrian loved her. It wasn’t her fault that he was a crappy, nonexistent father who was trying to act like he hadn’t overlooked his daughters for their entire lives. The funny thing was, if Adrian and Rebecca were in high school together, that made Rebecca almost ten years older than Peyton’s mother, even though she looked much younger. All that drinking could really age a person.
“Yes,” Adrian said. “But please don’t mention the engagement to anyone. We plan on announcing it at the grand opening on Saturday night.”
Peyton looked at the packed dining room. “The hotel looks open to me.”
“This is the soft opening,” Adrian explained. “Doors opened for both the hotel and residences a month ago, and the time since then has been a test to make sure everything is running smoothly. This way we can work out any kinks ahead of time, so we know nothing will go wrong on the night of the grand opening.”
“Sounds efficient.” Peyton skimmed over the menu as Rebecca ordered her food, zeroing in on the most expensive dish on the menu. Maine lobster—seventy dollars. Perfect. That would do a good job pissing Adrian off. She wasn’t sure if she liked lobster, or how one person could eat seventy dollars’ worth of food in one sitting, but she would find out tonight.
“A fine choice,” Adrian said after she ordered. “I’ll have the same. You girls should consider it, as well,” he said, looking at Courtney and Savannah. “It’s said we have the best lobster on the Strip.”
Savannah found it on the menu, and her eyes bulged. “I guess I’ll have the lobster, too,” she said, closing the menu and handing it to the waiter.
He turned to Courtney next. “The lobster for you, as well?”
“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’m a vegetarian,” Courtney explained. “I’ll have a Caesar salad, lightly dressed.”
Adrian had asked for a taste of everything for appetizers since “the girls should try it all,” which meant the waiter brought out two three-tiered stands of plates, each one full of food, like the appetizer version of a wedding cake. It was outrageously fancy, with pieces of what appeared to be seafood displayed like art instead of something to eat. Some of the food was still in the shells, and some had been drizzled with orange, yellow and green sauces. This was a far cry from the nachos and wings Peyton and her friends usually got at chain restaurants. She had no idea where to start.
Adrian picked up a shell with a slimy white slug-looking thing on top of it, lifted it to his mouth and tipped it downwards so the slug-thing slid out. He chewed and swallowed. “Oysters on the half-shell,” he said, motioning to the display. “Delicious.”
Curious, Peyton picked one up and lifted it to her mouth. It jiggled in the shell, all lumpy and gross. And it smelled salty, like the ocean. She wrinkled her nose. But she couldn’t back out now, no matter how nasty it looked.
Following Adrian, she tipped the shell toward her mouth and let the oyster slide out, holding her breath so the smell wouldn’t overwhelm her.
It didn’t only look like a slug, it tasted like one, too. Not that Peyton had tasted a slug before, but it was what she thought one would taste like if she had. She forced it down her throat, her eyes watering as she tried not to gag. Once she swallowed, she placed the shell back on her plate and chugged water to get the salty taste out of her mouth.
Those were supposed to be a delicacy? What were these people thinking?
“I suppose oysters aren’t to your taste?” Adrian asked. The corner of his lips twitched up, and he dabbed the side of his mouth with his napkin.
“That was disgusting,” she said, still trying to get the taste out of her mouth. She used the fork and knife closest to her plate for the rest of the appetizers—the ones that according to Brett were for the main course—but if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything.
Next came the main course. Two and a half pounds wasn’t a huge amount of lobster, especially for being seventy dollars’ worth of food on a single plate. That much money could have fed her family for two weeks.
Savannah and Courtney had involved themselves in a conversation with Rebecca, so Peyton turned to Brett with a brilliant idea—flirt with her future stepbrother. That would surely piss Adrian off. “So, Brett,” Peyton started, using her mini-fork to get some lobster out of the claw. “Do you live here, too?”
“In the Diamond?” He cut into his steak and took a bite.
Peyton nodded. What did he think she meant—Las Vegas?
“Yeah,” he answered. “Mom and Adrian share a condo, so I have one to myself. It’s pretty sweet.”
“You have your own condo?” Peyton leaned closer to him. “You should show it to me sometime. Does it have a Jacuzzi?”
He said yes, and took another