Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(63)

"Think she’s telling the truth?" Boston asked a second later.

His buddy looked miserable. "Probably." He slid into a chair and groaned out a curse.

Boston sighed. "Did you know that about her dad?"

Cameron glanced up, his eyes rimmed with red. "No."

Boston snapped his briefcase closed and picked it up. He sent Cam a sympathetic smile. "We’ll do this later," he murmured and walked out.

*

Cameron ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against the cushions of the chair. "Bombed that one," he muttered aloud.

Shame filled him as he recalled all the accusations he’d slung Olivia’s way. He couldn’t believe himself. He’d never met anyone less likely to hurt herself than Olivia. There was no way she’d attempt suicide.

What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t. That was the problem. He’d stepped into the bathroom, and the past had swamped him. It felt like Sienna all over again, so he assumed the worst.

His first wife had poisoned him. She’d clogged his mind, and now, all he could think of people was how mentally unstable they were and how much they could take before tipping themselves over the edge. He’d never wondered such things before Sienna had entered his life.

Cameron knew he should go apologize. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too ashamed.

And what was all that stuff about her father? Had Olivia’s dad done himself in? It surprised Cameron he had that kind of past in common with her. Not many people had such close connections with suicide victims. Her father and his first wife. That fact seemed to bind them together in such a way he was left shaken by the knowledge. He suddenly saw her in a different light.

The blonde cupcake he’d first met, who had seemed like nothing more than a spoiled little princess, now had a past. A dark, depressing past. She hadn’t been pampered her whole life by two adoring parents who gave her whatever she demanded. No, she’d ended up with Vivian the bitch for a mother and a father that had to have been at least a little like Sienna.

Cameron shivered. Needing relief from the thoughts racing through his head, he staggered to his feet and made his way to the bookshelves lining the wall. Pushing aside the largest volume of books, he reached between the two and extracted a bottle. Damn, he craved that first biting swallow.

But instead of opening it, he closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Just as he carried the alcohol to bathroom and poured the entire contents down the toilet, the doorbell rang.

It was probably Boston. Kincaid was no doubt worried how things were going. He was annoyingly thoughtful that way. It’d been especially irritating right after Sienna had died, when Cam had wanted to be left alone the most. Yet, Boston stuck by his side through it all.

"Look, your concern is touching, Kincaid," Cameron muttered, yanking open the door. "But—"

His words died in his throat as he found himself face to face with Vivian Helbrock-Donovan-Roark. He blinked to clear his vision.

Vivian’s face filled with hatred, and her lip curled into a sneer. "I’ve come for my daughter," she stated in a stony, serious voice.

For some reason, a bolt of panic roared through Cameron. No! He didn’t want anyone to take Livy.

He needed her.

But then reality returned, and he realized Olivia wouldn’t go anywhere with her mother.

Relaxing, he sent Vivian a sympathetic look. "Sorry, honey. But you can’t have her."

"Look, you unethical little prick. You might have screwed me in that underhanded business dealing but—"

"Screwed you?" Cameron broke in incredulously. "I merely backed off my bid when I discovered my mother-in-law was the competition."

"—but you can’t have my daughter. I want her back. Now. And you were not thinking any such thing. You knew what would happen to me if I won that bid, you cocksucker. It’ll take me five years to regain all the capital I lost."

"Then maybe you shouldn’t have tried to undercut me," Cameron murmured, folding his arms over his chest and giving Vivian a steely look. Man, but he’d love to knock the wind out of her sails. It was too bad she wasn’t a man; he could’ve just punched her in the nose.

For a moment, Vivian’s face turned purple and Cameron wondered if she was going to keel over. But the older woman seemed to calm herself. She looked expectantly over Cameron’s shoulder into the house. "Where is she?"

"Why don’t we make a deal?" Cameron said instead of answering, aware Vivian had yet to call her daughter by her name. Something was clearly missing in the woman. Like a heart.

No way in hell did he want her anywhere near Livy, but, "If you let her remove all her possessions from your house, I’ll let you come visit her whenever she wants, and I’ll call a truce on the business level. I’ll stop screwing you over like you tried to do to me."

"I’m not making any deals with you, Banks," Vivian huffed. "Now, where’s—"

"Mother?" Olivia said in a startled voice from inside the living room.

Cameron spun around just as Vivian charged past him into the house.

"Olivia!" she cried out in relief.

Okay, so the lady remembered her name after all. So what? That didn’t mean—