Hot Commodity(52)

Not that it was any of her business. If the guy wanted to pay for crappy decorating, who was she to say anything?

Deciding she should probably get up, she pulled off the covers and slid to her feet. After taking a long, hot shower and raiding his kitchen, she gave herself a tour. The house was newer than her mother’s Pasadena place. Olivia preferred the modern architecture of Casa de Cameron to Vivian’s staid mansion. The shape of the rooms actually seemed to fit him better than the décor. Olivia had to think he’d personally known the draftsman who’d designed his home.

Munching on the apple she’d nabbed from the fruit basket in his kitchen, she plodded barefoot through the halls. The huge house seemed quiet and empty without Cameron’s presence. She wondered when he was going to come home.

But thinking that only depressed her further. He’d saved her from her mother; now it was time to save herself. She couldn’t keep looking to him for help. Or entertainment.

Deciding to take Cameron’s advice on cruising the internet for an

idea as to what she wanted to do with herself, Olivia settled into the desk chair in his home office and booted up the computer.

Half an hour later, she turned the PC off. There had been plenty of openings listed in the area, things like warehouse associate, registered nurse, accounting clerk, process engineer, truck driver, restaurant manager, sales manager. The only thing she could imagine herself doing, however, was the retail sales manager at a top-end clothing store. If there was one thing Olivia Donovan knew, it was fashion.

But she’d never had a job, and she’d never tried to find one before. The thought of actually going out into the workforce and applying scared the daylights out of her. Then again, how long could she mope around here before she was kicked out? Cameron would eventually want to return to his life. She couldn’t just stay.

As she was leaving the room, a manila package sitting on an old shoebox caught her attention. Olivia paused and read the return address. When she saw that it was from the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel, she reached down and snatched it up with a gasp.

The pictures inside had her plopping down in a nearby chair, stunned. Oh, God. She had no idea she’d been so drunk. But then, yeah, a person would have to be completely plowed off their ass to marry a total stranger.

Captivated by the shots of her and Cameron together, Olivia sifted through every proof. She wondered why he hadn’t mentioned receiving them. She barely remembered getting them taken. But, from the looks of it, it appeared she’d had a blast being married by Elvis.

Olivia sobered. She still had the ring she’d picked out that night. She looked down at it on her finger—still on her right hand—and let out a sigh. And to think, if she hadn’t worn it to Chicago, it would currently be lost to her forever at Vivian’s place, just like her one hundred and twenty pairs of name brand shoes and her closet full of designer clothes.

Man, she missed her clothes. There was only one clean outfit left in the luggage she’d brought with her. Hopefully, Cameron would be a saint and lend her some money to buy some—

She paused. No, she couldn’t rely on him to provide her with anything else. She was already mooching enough off him. She’d lived her entire life leeching from her mother for everything she’d ever needed. The habit wasn’t going to be transferred to Cameron.

Upset with her train of thought, she pushed the pictures back into their envelope. She started to toss the package back on top of the box on the floor, but paused. Curious about was inside, she slipped open the lid. What she found had her digging inside. Pictures. Piles and piles of photographs.

Unabashedly snooping, Olivia shuffled through the mess. Most shots showed Cameron’s childhood, from when he was a baby to when he graduated high school. Others were of family members. She caught sight of Leah, his sister, in many poses. Becoming very curious about his life, Olivia eagerly went through more.

She found a shot of Boston, the lawyer cousin, and paused. He might’ve only been thirteen or fourteen, but Olivia could tell it was him with his pitch-black hair and urbane demeanor. He was grinning with his arm looped casually around Cameron’s shoulder as they stood, dripping wet in swimming trunks on a beach.

Olivia smiled. Cam had been a happy kid. She liked that thought. The snapshots of him as an adult didn’t quite reflect contentment, though, especially when he posed in a picture with the black-haired woman. Olivia turned one of those over and was rewarded with a name. Cam and Sienna, it read. One month wedding anniversary.

One month wedding anniversary?

Frowning, Olivia flipped the shot back over. Well, hello. They didn’t look like newlyweds, especially solemn Sienna. She had deep violet slashes under her eyes as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. She didn’t smile, and the look on her face said she just wanted to die.