“Girls, I want you to meet Carl, Teddy and Jackson,” Adrian said, pointing to each man as he said his name.
Carl was the oldest, Teddy was the one who looked Adrian’s age and Jackson was the youngest. Even his name sounded fitting for a football player. His hazel eyes met Peyton’s, his gaze strong and confident, which sent her stomach flipping. How old was he? He had to be older than her, but she doubted he could be more than twenty-five.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Courtney said, and Peyton had to press her lips together to stop from laughing. It always amused her how Courtney remained polite in the strangest situations.
“They have each been assigned to one of you personally,” Adrian said. “Carl is in charge of Savannah, Teddy is in charge of Courtney, and Jackson is in charge of Peyton. They will keep tabs on your whereabouts. They will remain invisible to you as much as possible, but since security in Vegas requires higher measures than Fairfield, you will notice their presence at times. They’ve been staying under the radar today since you were unaware of them and they didn’t want to scare you, but from now on when you leave your condo they will be in the hall, and they will accompany you in the elevators. Apart from those instances, they will mostly go unnoticed by you. This will be an adjustment, but go about your lives the same as you did before you were aware of their presence. They are not babysitters, so they will not tell me anything about your personal lives unless it is necessary for your safety.”
Adrian dismissed the bodyguards, and Peyton gave Jackson one last small smile before he left. He probably wasn’t allowed to show much emotion, especially in front of Adrian, but she thought he smiled back. While she didn’t love the idea of someone trailing her every move, Jackson was hot enough that it didn’t bother her. Maybe he even had a fun side. It would be worth finding out.
“My bodyguard can’t be much older than I am,” Peyton said, hoping Adrian would reveal his age.
“Jackson is young, but he is one of the best at what he does,” Adrian said. “He will do an excellent job keeping you safe at all times.”
Peyton was disappointed he didn’t give her an exact age, but it wasn’t a problem. Jackson would be trailing her every move. She would have many opportunities to discover that fact on her own.
“As I mentioned earlier, you’ll live here for a year and go to Goodman,” Adrian said. Peyton crossed her arms, and he added, “Or another school, if after two months at Goodman you decide it isn’t to your liking. When the year is up, you can choose where you want to go from there. I will support your decisions, as long as they are sensible. There are some rules, though.” He looked each of them in the eyes before continuing. “Since it’s summer, you don’t have a curfew—your bodyguards will keep you safe at all times—but I expect you to come home at night. Once school begins you’ll have a curfew, but we’ll discuss specifics later. I also don’t mind if you have a glass of wine with dinner, or a casual drink with friends. Despite your mother’s struggles, I allow this because it’s the way I was raised. I believe if I prohibit you from drinking, you’ll do it secretly anyway and go overboard with it, as many people your age are known to do. But if you’re caught being irresponsible with alcohol to the point where you embarrass yourself publicly, that will end.”
He paused to let that sink in, then continued, “As I told you in the condo earlier, I have no problem with you using your credit cards to buy what you please. I encourage it, since I doubt you had the privilege to do so in your previous circumstances—but there’s a catch. You may not do anything that will result in bad press for our family. We all know of some infamous hotel heiresses—no need to name names—whom I’ve had to bar from my properties for...inappropriate behavior. It’s in your best interests to remain under the radar. Use your judgment and act wisely, because gossip pages will talk about what you do. People will take pictures of you and post them on the internet. I don’t want any negative attention brought to our family. If that happens, your credit card privileges will be severely limited, and you will have an early curfew. Do you understand?”
Peyton nodded, just so he would drop the subject. She was sick of listening to this lecture. She ignored the rules at home, especially since her mom didn’t follow through with punishments, and she would continue doing whatever she wanted here, no matter what boundaries Adrian tried to place on her. She hadn’t needed an unlimited credit card in Fairfield, and she wasn’t about to become dependent on one now. Plus, no one even knew who they were.
Yet.
Adrian looked straight at Peyton, making her feel uneasy. “No negative press also means no flirting with your future stepbrother,” he said. “That line is not to be crossed.”
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” Peyton protested, glad Adrian hadn’t caught her eyeing up Jackson. She didn’t want him trying to put an end to that before it had a chance to begin. “He looked bored and I was being friendly. It wasn’t anything more.”
Adrian didn’t appear to believe her, but he dismissed the topic. “I’m glad we discussed that, but we need to go to the club. Some of your future classmates will be there. Brett will introduce you to them.” He finished his coffee and continued, “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to get to know each other since your arrival. Things have been busy around here, and while I wish the timing was better, there will be plenty of opportunity for all that in a few days, after the grand opening for the hotel and residences on Saturday night.”
At that, he stood up to leave the steakhouse. It was time to go to Myst.
chapter 8
Madison Lockhart loved Myst. It was the most extravagant nightclub in Vegas, with its three-story waterfall cascading from the ceiling into the lagoon on the first floor. She sat with her friends in a semicircular booth on the VIP level, waiting for international DJ superstar David Guetta to hit the stage. A few people danced on the elevated lit-up platform—mainly adults who had already had a few drinks. Normally Myst drew a younger crowd, but this Fourth of July party was a special event. The fireworks show was rumored to be better than the one at Caesars Palace, and would be choreographed to David Guetta’s music. Madison couldn’t wait to see it.
She watched her parents step onto the floor and dance with each other. This was one of the few nights they both weren’t working, which was rare since her dad was the lead neurosurgeon at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center—the best hospital in the state—where her mom also worked as an anesthesiologist. Nights when they looked this relaxed didn’t happen often.
They waved her up to join them, but Madison shook her head. That so wasn’t happening.
“I think your parents want you to dance with them,” Oliver Prescott joked from his seat next to her.
Madison rolled her eyes. She and Oliver had been best friends since elementary school, but whenever she looked at him now she was reminded of how much he’d changed in the past year. Oliver had always been good-looking, but he’d started working out over the past few months, and it showed. Every inch of his body was more defined. He’d also grown his hair out during their sophomore year, and while it wasn’t long, it looked much better than the shaved look he’d tried to pull off when they were freshmen. It brought out his dark eyes. And one thing Oliver knew how to do was use his eyes. He had the “look at a girl and make her melt” technique down perfectly. He could get any girl he wanted, and he knew it. But it didn’t matter who they were—students at UNLV or celebrities—Oliver never kept his attention on one girl for long.
Madison hoped he wouldn’t be like Damien and set his sights on the Diamond girls. That would piss her off.