Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) (24 page)

She wasn’t hugely into drin
king, because she’d seen first-hand how destructive alcohol could be, but she wasn’t a prude, either. She didn’t want to be “that lame girl” at the party who refused to drink. And now she had the opportunity to taste Dom Perignon! Her friends would be so envious when they found out. It was the sort of drink she imagined she would get to try if her dreams ever came true and she became a famous pop star. One glass wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Don’t even think about
it,” Courtney warned as Savannah reached for the bottle.

“But it’s Do
m Perignon.” Savannah hated when Courtney tried to boss her around. They were only eleven months apart, but Courtney was so responsible all the time. It made the gap feel wider. “It’s probably hundreds of dollars for this bottle. We have to try it.”

“I’m not trying anything
he
buys for us.” Peyton scrunched her nose and plugged her headphones into her ears.

Knowing Courtney wouldn’t physically stop her for fear of making a mess, Savannah poured herself a glass and took a sip, the tiny bubbles gliding down
her throat. Dom Perignon was better than anything she’d ever tasted. But there was that little voice in the back of her head, warning her that drinking in the morning was something her mom would do. Savannah cleared this up with her conscience by reminding herself that if her mom were here, she would finish the bottle. Savannah was only having one glass, and only to taste it.

She felt so sophisticated with her drink, and wished she’d worn something dressier than the dark jeans and pink tunic top she’d bought at Forever 21 a few weeks ago. She’d thought it looked good when she’d put it on this morning, but she
hardly looked like the type of person who arrived at the airport in a limo.

But there was nothing she could do about it now.

She looked at Courtney and Peyton, sitting in the front-facing seat, and wondered how they didn’t share her amazement that they were in the back of a
limo
. Courtney’s long blond hair had dried into natural waves—the kind Savannah wished she had—and she was staring out the window, her chin balanced in her hand as she watched the scenery. She kept biting her thumbnail—a giveaway that she was nervous, which made Savannah feel on-edge, too. Courtney never had a problem handling everything thrown her way—school, keeping the apartment clean, taking extra shifts at work to pay the bills and making sure Savannah got her homework done. While the bossiness got annoying sometimes, Savannah didn’t know what she would do without her.

Peyton slumped in her seat, her headphones plugged into her ears and huge dark sunglasses covering her eyes. She had pulled the hood of her black terry-cloth jacket over her head midway through the ride, and her long, light brown hair with the occasional streak of blue fell over her shoulders
. Savannah hated the blue streaks. Why her sister would want to look like a freak was beyond her. Not that Peyton would listen to Savannah’s opinion.

Getting the vibe that neither of her sisters felt like talking, Savannah looked out the window. They drove past some small run-down apartment buildings and entered the highway. They passed by tons of vineyards, the grape vines bright green and alive under the hot July sun. Where were they heading? Last she’d heard, her father lived in Las Vegas, but it had b
een fifteen years since her mother had left him—right after she got pregnant with Savannah. He could be anywhere now.

It wasn’t like he’d bothered to contact them. They didn’t even know his first name. Savannah always assumed he was incapable of taking care of them, but if he could afford a limo, why hadn’t he made an effor
t to get to know his own daughters? To acknowledge their existence? He was only interested in them now because he had no other choice. Savannah’s eyes watered as she realized again how alone she and her sisters were, and she took a sip of champagne to force away the tears. She and her sisters had plenty of differences, but at least no matter what was coming next, they would have each other.

Courtney must have noticed how Savannah had tensed up, because she looked at her and forced a smile. “How does it taste?” she asked, motioning to the champagne.

“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 Perignon. Do you know how many people would
kill
to try this? Besides, Mom would have finished the bottle by now.”

“She would have,” Pe
yton 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 ye
ars 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 thi
s 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 commer
cial 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.

Don’t miss the rest of
The Secret Diamond Sisters!

Savannah. Courtney. Peyton.

The three sisters grew up not knowing their father and not quite catching a break. But it looks like their luck is about to change when they find out the secret identity of their long-lost dad—a billionaire Las Vegas hotel owner who wants them to come live in a gorgeous penthouse hotel suite. Suddenly the Strip's most exclusive clubs are all-access, and with an unlimited credit card each, it should be easier than ever to fit right in. But in a town full of secrets and illusion, fitting in is nothing compared to finding out the truth about their past.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In the fall of 2008, Michelle saw Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” music video for the first time. She thought up a story to go along with the video, and decided to write the beginning of this story as a homework assignment for class. Her classmates and teacher loved it so much that they wanted to know what happened next, so Michelle continued writing, and that story eventually became her first novel, Remembrance. She’s so happy to be able to share this novel with you, and hopes you enjoyed reading it as much as she loved writing it!

Check out her website,
http://www.michellemadow.com, to add her on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and her many other social networking sites.

Michelle lives in Florida, and is hard at work writing more novels for young adults.