Diamonds are Forever

by Michelle Madow

  “One of the most important qualities of being a good bodyguard is to be observant.” He chuckled, as if he knew something she didn’t. “I’ve been around a few years—I know what heartbreak looks like when I see it.”

  “I’m not heartbroken,” she lied. “I’m just bored.”

  His brow crinkled, and he smiled—it was that knowing smile again, as if he didn’t believe her. “Which means that you’ve been ‘bored’ since Jackson was dismissed?”

  “Yes.” Her voice shook, and he raised an eyebrow. “Well...no. But I guess you already know that.”

  He nodded. “I do. And I’ve been debating whether to say something for weeks now. I haven’t wanted to overstep any professional lines, but I’ve seen how this is tearing you up inside. So I want you to listen to me, and trust me on this—Jackson cares about you. The way he looked at you—well, I don’t want to scare you, but it’s the way I must have looked at my wife the first moment I laid eyes on her.”

  Peyton’s heart leaped, and she wished that what Teddy was saying was true. But she’d been let down enough times to know not to believe in fairy tales.

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

  “I’m not sure it’s quite that simple.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said. “He left to go across the country without caring that he wouldn’t see me again. I texted him. He didn’t reply. I think his message is clear—he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Perhaps.” Teddy took a deep breath, his eyes darting sideways, then refocused on Peyton. “And you’ll have to forgive me if what I say next is stepping out of line, because this probably isn’t what you want to hear.”

  “Go ahead.” Peyton motioned him to continue. “It’s hard to say anything that offends me. But you’re welcome to try your best.”

  “All right,” he said. “Like I said, I apologize in advance, but it’s possible that you might be making this all about you, and not taking the time to see this situation from Jackson’s perspective.”

  Peyton took a sharp breath. “He moved across the country and hasn’t tried to reach out to me since,” she said. “I’m trying to accept that he just isn’t that into me and move on. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Jackson’s been put in a very precarious position,” Teddy said. “He’s twenty-three, and you’re a minor—not only a minor, but the daughter of a well-known hotel owner. In certain states, including your home state of California, he could be convicted of a felony by being involved with you. The punishment for that is jail time. It would be on his record forever.”

  “No one would actually convict him of anything,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Would they?”

  “Most likely not,” he said. “But if you truly do care for him like I think you do, would you want to put him at such a risk?”

  “No.” Despite how much she missed him, she didn’t have to think twice about her answer. “But I’m turning eighteen at the end of the month.”

  “Precisely,” he said. “Jackson may contact you after your birthday, or he may not. Give him time. But until then, pining for him isn’t doing you any good.”

  Was that what she had been doing? Pining? When said that way it sounded so...pathetic. But it was true. Ever since Jackson had left, she’d been spending more time than ever by herself, zoning out in front of the computer or the television, waiting for him to show up at her doorstep like he had a few weeks ago. Even here in Aspen, amongst her sisters and friends, she’d been so distracted by the thought of Jackson that she was disappearing into the shadows. That wasn’t her. She didn’t sit back and wait for life to come to her. She threw herself into it for all it was worth.

  “You’re right.” Peyton straightened. “Pining sucks. I’m here now, and I should enjoy myself.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said. “May I recommend you start by rejoining your sisters and friends?”

  “Good idea,” she agreed. “Thank you, Teddy.”

  “Anytime.”

  She sat back down with her group—who were now asking Perry and Noel about British slang—and looked around the lounge. It didn’t take long for her eyes to lock with those of a gorgeous bartender. He had dark hair, a few days of scruff on his face, and he was checking her out, too.

  What would Jackson think if he saw the way the bartender was looking at her? Would he get jealous? Or was he eyeing up bartenders himself during his hours off in New York? She sat back, the thought of Jackson moving on from her so easily causing a dark cloud to settle over her thoughts.

  But what was it that she’d said a few minutes ago—that she was going to stop pining and start living her life again?

  Maybe this hot bartender would be the perfect way to do that.

  She gave him a closed-lip smile long enough to get a smile in return, and then broke eye contact, laughing at something Noel had said. She wasn’t quite sure what he’d said, but Evie was laughing and looking at him like he was the most entertaining person ever, so Peyton figured it must have been somewhat funny. A few minutes of conversation in, she snuck another glance at the bartender, happy to see that she was still on his radar. But before she could get up to talk to him, a hostess escorted them to the dining room for their dinner reservation. Apparently, cute bartender would have to wait.

  The dining room was fit for royalty with parquet floors, red walls and tables with white tablecloths that hit the floor. They had a long banquet table set up, big enough for all twelve of them. Their bodyguards sat with Perry and Noel’s bodyguards at a round table nearby.

  The food at Cardinal Club was amazing. Peyton had creamy tomato soup with cheesy bread (it was a fancy version of tomato soup and grilled cheese) and a bacon-wrapped filet that was out of this world. She inhaled the entire thing. She normally didn’t worry too much about what she ate (as opposed to Madison, who dutifully ordered salad with fat-free dressing as her appetizer and grilled fish and vegetables for her main course), but she liked wearing crop tops, so she couldn’t eat like this for the entire trip. But skiing burned calories, right?

  After the meal was cleared, three dessert trays were brought to their table.

  “Complimentary dessert trays, for Adrian Diamond’s daughters and their guests,” their main waiter explained. He pointed to each item on the tray. “Cinnamon ice cream, macarons, chocolates, cheesecake and sauces for extra flavor.” There was one of each for everyone—luckily in bite-sized portions, since Peyton was so full she couldn’t imagine eating more than that.

  Perry Myles insisted on taking the check, and they all made their way to the bar, which had filled up since they’d arrived. Some people pointed and whispered to friends when they saw Perry and Noel, but no one bothered them. Oliver situated himself at a single blackjack table in the back corner of the lounge. Madison went over to watch him play, and Courtney and Brett made themselves comfortable on a couch. Perry, Savannah, Emily Nicole, Noel and Evie were chatting away in a circle, and Damien and Brianna had broken away from the group to talk near the wall.

  After Peyton’s conversation with Teddy, she didn’t want to stand off by herself, getting sad about Jackson. She could go join the group. But what would she have done before she knew Jackson?

  Easy—she would have approached that hot bartender she’d spotted earlier.

  She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her hair and cleared her mind of Jackson. Her hand itched to grab her phone to see if he’d posted anything on Facebook recently (or to see if there was the slight chance that he’d texted her), but she stopped herself. She’d had a life before Jackson, and she would have a life now.

  So she reapplied her lip gloss and strutted over to the bar. The bartender’s dark eyes connected with hers, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a knowing smirk. But she didn’t say a word—she wanted him to start the conversation
.

  He cleared away an empty glass, his eyes not leaving hers. “I’m going to need to see some ID,” he said, as if it were a challenge.

  Peyton found her fake ID and handed it to him.

  “Peyton Diamond from Owings Mills, Maryland,” he repeated the fake information on the ID. “Funny—my manager mentioned that Peyton Diamond, teen daughter of Cardinal member Adrian Diamond, would be here with her sisters and some friends this evening. But that Peyton Diamond lives in Las Vegas, not Maryland.”

  “What a coincidence.” Peyton shot him a frosty smile. Was he going to serve her or not? These members-only clubs usually didn’t care about underage drinking—they just needed to go through the motions of checking the ID of anyone under thirty for appearance’s sake.

  “Sure is.” He handed the ID back to her. “What’ll it be?”

  “An Absolut martini with no vermouth,” she said, even though her head still buzzed from the champagne she’d had at dinner. What was going on with her? She knew her tolerance level. Dinner had lasted over two hours—she should not still be feeling the alcohol from one glass of champagne.

  The bartender prepared her drink, and she realized he still hadn’t introduced himself.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “I’m Zack.” He poured her drink and handed it to her. “So, Peyton Diamond, what brings you to Aspen?”

  “Family trip.” She took a sip of her drink. “What about you? Are you from here?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Born and raised in Michigan. Went to college there for two years, but it wasn’t the life for me, so much to my parents’ disappointment, I moved out here to become a ski bum.”

  “And has it been worth it?”

  “It was the best decision of my life.”

  “Good for you.” Peyton toasted him with her martini glass and smiled. “That’s cool that you found something you love and are living it.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said. “Are you a skier? Or just here for the Aspen social scene?” He gestured at the crowd in the bar.

  “I’ve never skied before,” she confessed.

  His mouth dropped open. “Twenty-two years old and never skied?”

  She smiled, since he must know that wasn’t her actual age. “You say it like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever heard,” she said. “But don’t fret—I’ll be hitting the slopes for the first time tomorrow. Think I’ll get the hang of it quickly?”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the bar, so there were only inches between them. Now that he was closer, she saw that his eyes weren’t brown—they were hazel. Like Jackson’s. “You will if I’m teaching you,” he said confidently.

  She laughed and raised an eyebrow, even though her heart panged at the thought of Jackson. She took another sip of her drink, trying to swallow her feelings away. Zack was hot and easy to talk to. She should focus on him, since he was the one here with her now.

  “You’re a bartender, a ski bum and an instructor?” she asked.

  “Aspen’s not a cheap town,” he said. “Gotta find some way to make extra money. Why not enjoy myself while doing it?”

  “True.” She nodded. Adrian had arranged for her and her sisters to have a private lesson tomorrow...but Savannah and Courtney would understand if she wanted a one-on-one lesson with Zack instead. Or at least she thought they would. She was more inclined to agree to it right now, with the warmth from the alcohol traveling through her body, making her tingly all over, and her brain fuzzy. “What do you all put in your drinks in Aspen?” she asked. “I’m such a lightweight here.”

  “When did you get here?” he asked.

  “A few hours ago.”

  “Ahhh.” He nodded, as if that explained everything. “Your body hasn’t adjusted to the altitude yet. Alcohol affects some people twice as much here—at eight thousand feet up—than at sea level. You’ll get used to it in a few days. I’ve built up my tolerance so much that when I visit friends in California, I can drink them all under the table.”

  “That explains it.” Peyton placed her drink down—she would have to slow down if she wanted to make it through the night. “Have you ever taught someone who’s never skied before?”

  “Of course,” he said. “They were all under ten years old, but I know what I’m doing. You’ll be in good hands. So, what do you say?”

  Peyton stirred her drink, thinking about it. Even if she let Zack teach her to ski and she had a good time with him, he lived in Aspen and she lived in Las Vegas. It would be yet another fling. And then wouldn’t she just be proving Jackson right about how he thought she only went for guys who were off-limits?

  There she went again, thinking about Jackson.

  “All right.” She straightened her shoulders and locked her gaze with Zack’s. “Let’s do it.”

  chapter 20:

  The next morning, everyone except for Madison and Oliver had left the house for a day of skiing. They’d stayed at Cardinal Club until it closed last night—the dance floor had gotten fun after midnight—but unlike Oliver, Madison had woken up early to eat breakfast with the group. She was jealous of everyone in their ski gear, but she would be on the slopes tomorrow.

  Right now, she had to get Oliver out of bed.

  She entered his room without knocking. “Time to wake up,” she said, prancing over to the window and opening the blinds.

  He glanced at his watch, groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “Two more hours?” he mumbled.

  Madison had expected this. Luckily, she needed more time to get ready, and she’d brought her science textbook on the trip so she could read ahead on the next unit. “One hour,” she said. “Then I’m dragging you out of bed, and we’re heading into town.”

  “You know my knee’s still healing, right?” He rolled over and threw his arm over his eyes to protect them from the light. “Town’s gonna be a drag if I’m slowing you down. Why don’t we just chill here?”

  “We’re in Aspen, and we’re going to enjoy it,” she said. “You’re not moping around the house all day. I know your knee’s still healing—but lucky for you, we have a driver. I’ll be back in an hour to make sure you’re up.”

  She left the room and shut the door, not giving him time to say no.

  * * *

  Madison let Oliver have an extra thirty minutes of sleep, since the chapter she was reading in the science book was really interesting, and she wanted to finish it. Then she bundled up and met him in the entrance hall.

  He gave her outfit a once-over and smiled. It was one of her favorites for walking around a ski town—white pants, white boots with fur lining, her favorite white Blumarine puffy jacket and a white knitted hat with a puffball on the top.

  “Don’t you look the part of a perfect little snow bunny?” he said.

  “Thank you.” She placed a hand on her hip, striking a pose. “Although if we don’t get out of here soon, I think I’m going to overheat.”

  “Since you’re determined to explore town, where do you want to go?”

  “Are you hungry?” She assumed he was, and she was ready for lunch. The fruit she’d had that morning while everyone else was eating pancakes wasn’t very filling.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I could always eat. Where did you have in mind?”

  “Ajax Tavern?”

  He frowned. “Out of all the places in Aspen, you choose the one where we’ll be watching people skiing, when you know I can’t ski for the entire trip?”

  “They have great food,” she said. “And I thought it would be nice to eat outside, on the base of the mountain. But if you don’t want to watch the skiers, we could eat inside. Unless you have another idea?”

  “I do love their burgers,” he said. “Fine. Ajax Tavern it is.”

  * * *

 
Thirty minutes later, they had a table on the deck of Ajax Tavern, under a heat lamp, watching the skiers fly down the mountain. The deck was packed, mostly with people in ski gear who were enjoying their lunches of fondue, burgers, truffle fries and more.

  It all looked so deliciously tempting. Madison studied the menu, estimating how many calories were in each dish, categorizing each option into “acceptable” and “unacceptable.” The ten pounds she’d put on a few months ago and worked her butt off to lose had reminded her why she never wanted to get to that point again. She hated feeling like she had to use her clothes to hide her body instead of accentuate it.

  When the waitress came over, she placed a freshly baked roll and bean dip in front of them. Looking at it made Madison’s mouth water. She wanted to get something greasy and delicious—like a cheeseburger, mac and cheese, grilled cheese or cheese fondue—but she resisted and ordered a salad with grilled chicken. Oliver ordered a cheeseburger and truffle fries.

  He could eat whatever he wanted and never get fat. It was so annoyingly frustrating.

  “There’s a few hours left until the chairlifts close,” he said once the waitress walked away. “After we eat, if you want to go back to the house, get your ski stuff and join everyone on the slopes, I wouldn’t blame you.”

  Madison sighed—this was the second time he’d said something like that this morning. “No.” She placed her hands on the table and looked at him straight-on. “I want to be here with you. I invited you on this trip knowing you wouldn’t be able to ski, and knowing that I wouldn’t ski as much because I would be spending time with you. So stop letting it bother you that I’m not skiing today and let’s enjoy ourselves.”

  “You invited me because you felt sorry for me,” he said bitterly. “And you’re here with me right now because you feel sorry for me, too.”

  “That’s not true,” she insisted. “I invited you because you’ve locked yourself away since December, and I miss you. Don’t you get it, Oliver? I care about you, and I want to spend time with you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”