Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(55)

The only thing Olivia could think of was that she pleased Cameron in bed. Of course, that kind of skill only led to one type of job. She didn’t particularly want to announce such an accomplishment to the man’s mother and father either.

Turning a bright red, she shook her head. "I, uh, I don’t...I don’t really have any talents."

Chuck’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t look disgusted. "So, you’re going to give me a challenge. Good." He grinned before scratching his chin and visually dissecting her. "Well then. What kind of things did you do to pass the days back in Pasadena?"

Olivia swallowed. She’d shopped, sun-tanned, gotten facials and manicures, and had her hair styled.

Glancing away a little guiltily, she said, "I, uh, well, since my father passed, I’ve usually been the hostess whenever my mother had clients and other guests over to the house. A few of her widowed friends would sometimes have me plan parties for them, too."

"A social coordinator?" Chuck mused.

Next to him, Allison brightened. "Oh, do you think you could help me?" Reaching both hands for Olivia, she said, "I’m supposed to prepare a party for a gathering of twelve. Chuck’s having some clients from Texas up, and I’m completely lost."

"My own social coordinator retired recently," her husband put in. "Allison’s stepped in for him, but she doesn’t like the job much."

Olivia relaxed. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to plan a party. "Of course I could help, though I don’t know any of the caterers or musicians in this area. I’ll have to study the nearby—"

"Don’t worry about looking for a caterer," Chuck cut in. "We always use Southern Delights." Then he winked at her. "I’m sleeping with the main chef so I’ve got connections."

Olivia paused. She couldn’t believe Cameron’s father would announce something like that so openly. Her parents had never been faithful to each other, but they’d never come right out and aired it quite like this.

Before she could think up a proper response, she noticed how brilliant rosy red Allison Banks was turning.

"Chuck," she whispered, scandalized, and ducked her head.

Finally, it struck Olivia. Allison was the master chef at Southern Delights.

Cameron’s father chuckled and threw an arm around his wife’s waist. Pulling her close, he grinned at Olivia. "One of these days she’d going to realize I only say that kind of thing in order to see her beautiful blush, and she’s just going to haul off and hit me."

"Please excuse my husband," Allison murmured, unable to meet Olivia’s eyes. "He’s…"

"Just like his son," Olivia finished dryly.

"Oh, dear," Allison said. "I can only imagine what kind of wicked things Cameron’s said and done."

"Yep," Chuck said, looking satisfied. "That’s my boy."

*

As Cameron’s parents bid their farewell an hour later, his father paused to take Olivia’s hands, looking deep into her eyes as if asking for her help.

"You make sure that son of mine takes care of you," he said, but what she suspected he meant was, Take care of my son. Please.

Then he smiled at her proudly, just as she’d always wanted her own father to look at her, and hugged her goodbye.

The house seemed quiet after their absence, and Olivia felt alone. Going to the window, she watched their car turn from the drive and disappear down the street.

"Are they gone?" Cameron’s voice came from behind her.

She spun around. "You’re drunk!" she gasped, unable to believe her

eyes. He’d untucked his dress shirt and limply held a bottle down at his side.

He cocked an amused brow. "You’re surprised?"

"But…" Frowning, she set her hands on her hips. "You just watched your mother cry because of this," she spat out, pointing at the liquor he held. "So you decided to run off and drink? How much more do you want to break her heart?"

He flinched but it was quickly covered by a glower. "Maybe you shouldn’t get involved in something that’s none of your business, Blondie."

Resting his back against the doorframe, he boldly—almost challengingly—lifted the bottle to his lips. Olivia watched him guzzle, her gaze caught by the way the amber liquid glinted against the light as it swished inside its glass container.

"I like your parents," she said quietly.

He swallowed and let out a refreshed sigh. Closing his eyes, he answered, "What’s not to like?"

"They’re incredibly nice."

"The best," he agreed.

She frowned. "So, why are you so intent on hurting them?"

Face darkening, Cameron sent her a dirty look. "I don’t want to hurt them," he snapped. Then on a tired sigh, he whispered, "I just do. I hurt everything that gets too close."

Her anger dissolved. "Cameron," she croaked and took a step toward him. "You did not hurt Sienna. She—"

He lifted one finger of the hand that clutched his liquor. "Don’t say her name to me."

Olivia froze mid-step, too hurt to move, to even breathe. That his wife still had such a grip on him told her exactly where she ranked. As the pretty little mistake he planned to rid himself of as soon as possible.