Chapter 15
Cameron studied the numbers on the spreadsheet until they began to blur. He was daydreaming again. He’d begun the task of reviewing the portfolios of every Singleton Investments client. His father’s retirement was still six months away, but Cameron felt the undertaking would help distract him from obsessing about Jasmine and the baby. He knew Jasmine wanted children while he had been ambivalent about fathering a child, but that was no longer a subject of discussion or debate because a power beyond his control deemed otherwise.
“Cameron, Mrs. Tennyson is on the phone for you.” His assistant’s voice coming through the intercom shattered his musings.
“Thank you, Allison. Please patch her through.” He picked up the receiver and swiveled on the chair to stare out the window. “Mrs. Tennyson, how are you?” he said after hearing the elderly woman’s singsong greeting.
“I’m well, Cameron. Have you given any more thought to my investing in my grandson’s company?”
Cameron massaged his forehead as he recalled his client’s excuse for withdrawing a million dollars from her account to invest in what he knew was a Ponzi scheme. “Yes, Mrs. Tennyson, you did tell me he’s your grandson, but as your wealth manager I’m going to caution you about giving him that much money.”
“What do you recommend I give him?”
“No more than five thousand.” Cameron suggested the figure because he knew her lowlife grandson would reject it outright.
“But, he says he needs a million.”
“Tell your grandson to call me and I’ll set up a meeting with him to talk about his new venture. If I feel it’s viable I’ll carefully scrutinize and analyze installment transfers.”
Abigail Tennyson’s family had amassed a fortune in oil and natural gas and Singleton Investments had safeguarded their wealth with prudent stock ventures. Abigail’s grandson had squandered his multimillion-dollar trust in less than two years and was looking for more from his indulgent grandmother. Cameron’s sixth sense told him the wannabe Bernie Madoff was about to get a rude awakening if he believed Singleton Investments would randomly give him a million dollars without strict monitoring because of his grandmother’s generosity.
“That sounds fair. I’ll tell him to call you. Thank you, Cameron.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Tennyson.”
A light knock garnered Cameron’s attention. He turned on the chair and saw his brother in the doorway. “Come on in.” Preston had taken a week off to take his son and daughter to the Smoky Mountains. “How was it roughing it with your kids?”
Preston walked into the office and sat on the corner of the credenza. “It was great. They’d really got the hang of fly-fishing. I came to ask you about your new lady.”
Cameron’s brows drew downward in a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Madison and some of her girlfriends were having brunch at Momma’s Place last week and she said she saw you with a woman who she says is definitely not your type.”
A muscle flicked angrily in Cameron’s jaw. He wanted to tell his brother that Madison should stay the hell out of his personal life. His sister-in-law continued to hold a grudge because he’d refused to date her best friend. “Since when does your wife determine who my type is?”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that,” Preston said in defense of his wife.
“Please don’t make excuses for her, Preston. If Madison wanted to know who the lady was with me, then she should’ve come over to the table and I would’ve introduced her.”
“She was going to but you’d left. Who was she, Cam?”
Cameron leaned back in his chair and stared at his brother until Preston lowered his eyes. He wasn’t about to tell his family about Jasmine and the baby until after she’d gone through the battery of tests. He knew she was concerned about fetal abnormalities because of her age, but whatever the outcome Cameron would be there for her—for them.
“She’s my interior decorator.” And the mother of my unborn child, he mused. It had taken him more than twenty-four hours to accept the reality Jasmine was carrying his child. He had stopped questioning himself about why her, and not another woman with whom he’d slept since becoming sexually active.
Jasmine had talked about destiny, and how she believed in predestination, which led Cameron to believe if Hannah hadn’t invited him to her wedding, his path and Jasmine’s would’ve never crossed.
When they’d returned from the hospital he had lost track on time when he sat on the chair next to the bed in his bedroom suite, watching Jasmine as she slept, and he didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was emotionally distraught. Her apparent shock and tears communicated she wasn’t prepared for an unplanned pregnancy—and with a man with whom she hadn’t known a week. She hadn’t mentioned the A word and there was no way Cameron would have suggested she undergo an abortion. That would have to be Jasmine’s call. And his passionate plea that he wanted Jasmine and the baby had come from his fear of losing her; he wanted her with or without a child.
“Have you commissioned her to decorate your home?” Preston asked.
Cameron nodded. “Yes.”
“Where did you find her?”
“What’s up with the inquisition, brother?”
Preston smiled. “I’m just asking, brother, because it’s been a while since you’ve been seen in public with a woman.”
Cameron knew Preston was right. He hadn’t dated a woman since meeting Jasmine in October. “I’ve taken a break.”
“Good for you, Cam. And I know what you’re talking about. There had been a time when I dated a lot of women before I realized they’d all begun to look and sound alike. I also took a break and when I met Madison for the first time I knew within days she was the woman I wanted to marry. I know you don’t like her—”
“I never said I didn’t like Madison,” Cameron interrupted. “She’s my sister-in-law and the mother of my niece and nephew, which means she’s family. Madison is still pissed at me because I wouldn’t go out with her best friend, and it’s time she let that go.”
Preston blinked slowly, reminding Cameron of an owl. “Maddie never said anything to me about that.”
“And why should she?” Cameron asked. “It was between me, Madison, and Lindsay Worthington.”
“Lindsay? You’re telling me my wife tried hooking you up with Lindsay?”
Cameron bit back a smile when saw his brother’s shocked expression. “Do you know another Lindsay?”
“Well, damn, Cam. Maddie should know you’d never go out with someone like her. She talks so much that only someone who’s hearing impaired would be able to spend more than ten minutes with her.”
“I don’t want you to say anything to Madison about this, because as far as I’m concerned it’s moot.”
“She has no call to act like you don’t exist whenever you’re around because of someone who can’t get a man.”
“Let it go, Preston. Your wife doesn’t have to like me, but that doesn’t change how I feel about her.” Cameron was always polite to his sister-in-law and treated her with respect, and had forgiven her outburst when he told her he wasn’t interested in her friend. What he hadn’t told Madison was that he wouldn’t have anything to do with Lindsay even if she was the last woman on the face of the Earth.
“No problem, Cam. I won’t say anything to her.”
Cameron’s cellphone’s ringtone indicated a call from Jasmine. “Excuse me, but I have to take this call.” He picked up the phone. “Please hold on a second,” he said in a quiet voice. “Preston, could you close the door on your way out? How are you?” he asked her once the door closed behind his brother.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re just okay?” It’d been a week since they were last together, although they managed to talk to each other at least twice a day.
“Maybe I should’ve said I’m good.”
Cameron didn’t believe her, and suspected Jasmine was still being plagued by nausea. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“I just finished going over the plans and rendering of your home and I’d like to suggest a few changes, but only after discussing them with your architect and engineer.”
“Let me see if I can arrange a meeting where the four of us can get together. I’ll call you back as soon as I talk to them.”
“Don’t set it up for Thursday morning because I have an appointment with Hannah’s obstetrician.”
“Hannah knows?”
“Yes. She knew without my telling her. She said I looked different and when I refused a cocktail she put two and two together. I didn’t want to lie to her and told her everything about us. And she knows not to say anything.”
Cameron didn’t know why, but he felt a measure of relief that Hannah was now aware of the significance of their relationship, that he was resolute in his commitment to Jasmine. “I’m glad she knows. Now she can stop threatening me about messing over you.”
“She’s just trying to protect me, Cameron.”
“It can’t be from me, Jasmine. I told you before I pray never to hurt you physically or emotionally.”
“Hannah knows firsthand what I went through with my ex—”
“I’m not your ex, Jasmine. I’d never do to a woman what he did to you. So, there’s no comparison.”
There came a beat. “Can we please change the topic?”
“No problem. I’m going to call the architect and engineer and then I’ll get back to you.”
“I’ll be here.”
Cameron’s mouth was tight, as a muscle quivered at his jaw. He hated when Jasmine brought up her ex-husband, and he hoped that it would not become a source of contention between them. He was willing to leave his past behind, and he expected the same from her if they were going to share a future now that they were planning to bring another human being into the world.
He tapped the intercom to his assistant’s office. “Sharleen, I need you to get Bram Reynard and Lamar Pierce on the phone for a three-way.” Cameron picked up a pen drawing interconnecting circles on a legal pad as he waited for the other two men to come on the line. “Gentlemen,” he said in greeting when he heard their voices, “I need to set up a meeting that will include my interior decorator. This Thursday morning is out.”
“I’m available later this evening,” Bram said.
“Same here,” the engineer confirmed.
“Let’s meet at the hotel lobby at five. I’ll arrange for dinner in one of the private dining rooms.”
“I’ll be there,” Lamar said.
“Me, too,” Bram said in agreement.
As promised, Cameron called Jasmine and informed her he would pick her up at Hannah’s house at four o’clock for a meeting at the hotel. Her bubbly laugh came through the earpiece.
“That was fast.”
“When the boss speaks, I jump.”
“I’m not the boss, Cameron.”
“You are when it comes to decorating our home.” The instant our home slipped off his tongue Cameron realized he’d made a faux pas. Hannah had repeatedly warned him about moving too quickly with Jasmine, that he couldn’t put any pressure on her to do what he wanted, but to allow her to take the lead on the direction of their relationship.
“I’ll be ready at four.”
Cameron exhaled an audible breath. Jasmine appeared to have ignored his reference to the house as their home. He knew once she relocated, she did not want to impose on Hannah and St. John by living in their house. And that meant she needed a place to stay; and that place would be an adjoining suite at the hotel and subsequently the home she would decorate, hopefully for their family.
* * *
Jasmine waved to Cameron when his car came to a stop in front of the house. The weather had cooled considerably which allowed her to sit on the porch and read for hours. She had gone online and ordered two books about pregnancy. Cameron was out of the car before she could gather her purse and come down off the porch.
Her pulse quickened when she realized just how much she’d missed him. Talking to him on the phone was one thing, but seeing him in the flesh was entirely different. Their brief time off from each other allowed her the time to reexamine her feelings about the soft-spoken, reserved man who’d come into her life and turned it upside down.
She’d slept with him after their third encounter, something she’d never done with any other man, without experiencing a modicum of guilt. After all, she was over forty, divorced, and in control of her life and her future. Being the object of a man’s attention, even for a few days, had allowed her to forget her past and enjoy his company. What Jasmine hadn’t planned, and neither had Cameron, was that the intimate act they’d shared would result in her becoming pregnant.
Jasmine couldn’t see Cameron’s eyes behind the lenses of a pair of sunglasses but his smile was enough. He was as pleased to see her as she him. Going on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his. “Did you go to work today?”
Cameron glanced down at his khaki walking shorts, short-sleeve white untucked shirt, and tan woven sandals. “Yes. I left the office at three. You look rather businesslike.”
“I thought we were having a business meeting.” Jasmine had styled her hair in a twist she had pinned off the nape of her neck, and had selected a powder-blue pantsuit, a white silk blouse, and two-inch navy-blue pumps. “If you want I can go back and change.”
He kissed her forehead. “Don’t. You look beautiful. The meeting isn’t until five. I thought I’d get you there early so you can have a snack before dinner.” Cameron opened the passenger-side door and waited for her to get in.
“I find myself eating about five small meals a day instead of three full ones,” Jasmine told Cameron after he’d slipped in behind the wheel.
“Are you still throwing up?”
“It comes and goes.”
He started the engine and pulled smoothly away from the curb. “I’d like to go with you when you see the doctor Thursday.”
Jasmine stared out the windshield. “You don’t have to.”
He gave her a quick glance. “But I want to. I don’t ever want you to forget that we’re in this together.”
“Will you let me forget?”
“No way, darling. What time is your appointment?”
“Nine. Hannah has offered to go with me.”
“Let Hannah know that I’m going to take you. I want you to text me the doctor’s name and address.”
Jasmine knew it was useless to try and talk Cameron out of accompanying her to the doctor, and she also didn’t want to engage in a verbal confrontation with him. His revelation that he had grown up with two warring parents was something she did not want for their child. Yet Jasmine did not intend to become a doormat for Cameron or to genuflect or acquiesce to his every demand. She had decided to pick and choose her battles, while standing her ground for what she felt would be to her benefit.
“Okay.”
“I’d also like you to let me know the time and dates for all your appointments.”
Jasmine stared at him. “All of them?”
Cameron nodded. “Yes.”
“Don’t you have a company to run?”
“Yes, but it’s not going to fall apart if I take a couple of hours off a few times a month. Don’t forget my father still heads the company, and my brother Preston can always cover for me if Dad’s not there.”
“Tell me about the Singletons.” Jasmine had Googled Singleton Investments but found scant information on the family-owned, privately held company.
“What do you want to know?”
“How did they come to settle in Louisiana?”
Jasmine listened intently as Cameron gave her an abbreviated version of his family’s history. His ancestors made their fortune in shipping cotton and sugar cane to northern and European cities. During the Civil War, Union generals commandeered his great-great-great-grandfather’s ships to transport armaments to supply General Grant and Sherman’s troops.
“Archibald Singleton told everyone the Union general had appropriated his ships when in reality he’d willingly offered them up. No one knew he spied for the Union because he didn’t own slaves, and believed in preserving the Union. Archibald was devoutly religious and believed it was a sin for one man to own another man. All of his household help and dock workers were free people of color.”
“Were there that many free people of color at that time?”
Cameron smiled. “Yes. There was always a large population of free people of color in New Orleans.”
“Did anyone ever uncover Archibald’s double life?”
“No. He had become quite the consummate actor.”
“What happened after the war?” Jasmine asked.
“Once the mode of transportation changed from shipping to railroads, Archibald’s sons went into insurance. They were very conservative when it came to buying and selling stocks and bonds, and didn’t believe in putting all of their money in banks. After the Crash of ’29 when there was a run on the banks, the tightwad Singletons congratulated themselves because they were able to hold on to to most of their fortune. My penny-pinching great-grandfather used the Great Depression to become an accomplished hustler.”
Jasmine eyes shimmered with amusement. “Please don’t tell me he became a black marketeer.”
Cameron chuckled. “Not quite. He set up a food pantry and gave away food to the neediest families. Meanwhile he had set up an investment company for those who believed he had kept his fortune because of prudent investments.”
“So he was a Scrooge turned philanthropist.”
“You could say that. Once the country recovered from the Depression, folks were standing in line begging him to take their money. He was an equal opportunity investment manager because no one was turned away whether they had one hundred dollars or a hundred thousand.
“Once my father took over he set up internal departments within the company based on a client’s net worth. We treat clients who have five thousand the same as those with five hundred million.”
“How many clients do you have?” Jasmine asked.
“Right now we have twenty-eight.”
“That’s not many.”
“It’s eight more than we normally handle. We’re a small investment company, and unlike companies like Goldman Sachs or Merrill Lynch Wealth Management, we have a very personal relationship with our clients. I’m responsible for our wealthiest clients and they demand a greater level of service than average clients. This includes advice on estate planning, stock-option planning, and occasionally the use of hedging derivatives for large blocks of stock. Our overall services include: financial, investment, retirement, business retirement, and estate planning.”
Jasmine thought about the monies she’d put away for the proverbial rainy day. She did not fall into the wealthy category, yet she had done well for herself. Hannah had given her the contract outlining the conditions of her investing in the DuPont Inn. She’d read it over before sending it to Amelia. Her cousin questioned several clauses and discussed them with Hannah. Her friend then deleted them. Jasmine signed the amended copy, and then authorized her bank to transfer the funds to Hannah’s bank. She was now officially an innkeeper.
“If you have a son, would you insist he join the family company?” she asked Cameron.
“No. I would never make that a condition as to his career choice. My brothers have four boys between them to carry on the family name and they have the option of choosing to continue the tradition of running Singleton Investments. My father took me to work with him as a teenager and like an addict, investing became my drug of choice.”
Jasmine understood his passion. For her it had been decorating. The first time her mother brought her a dollhouse she had become fixated on buying miniature furniture to fill up the rooms. Over the years the dollhouses became bigger and bigger until they took up half of her bedroom and she was forced to store them in the attic.
The sky had darkened quickly by the time they arrived at the hotel. Jasmine and Cameron were able to get inside seconds before fat raindrops hit the ground. She followed him into the private elevator that took them to his suite. Jasmine continued to marvel that Cameron seemed totally unaffected by the priceless furnishings in his suite. He turned and smiled at her, as she resisted the urge to stare at his strong tanned legs in the shorts.
“I ordered a fruit plate for you, along with bottled water. Let me know if you want anything else.”
Jasmine slowly shook her head. “That’s fine. Thank you.”
Vertical lines appeared between Cameron’s eyes when he frowned. “There’s no need to thank me, Jasmine. I’d take care of you even if you weren’t carrying my baby.”
“You really want this baby, don’t you?” she asked.
His frown deepened. “Why wouldn’t I? Even though I didn’t plan to become a father, I’m willing to take responsible for getting you pregnant. I told you before I’ve never slept with a woman without using protection and, to quote you, it must be destiny that brought us together.” His eyes turned a cold steel-gray. “Does that answer your question?”
Jasmine tilted her chin in a defiant gesture. “I suppose it does.”
She didn’t want Cameron to pledge his future to her because of the baby, but for her. Her feelings for Cameron had changed and she found herself snared in a trap of her own emotions. He was everything she wanted in a man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. He wore his masculinity like a badge of honor, while at the same time exuding a gentle strength she found so endearing. When Hannah accused him of being a womanizer, Jasmine had quickly come to his defense. She hadn’t realized at that time she was falling in love with the man who had changed not only her life but her destiny.
When Hannah broached the subject of turning DuPont House into DuPont Inn, Jasmine had turned down her offer to become an innkeeper. Not wanting to leave her parents and/or sell her condo, which represented her first taste of total independence, had become the deciding factors. Now she had no excuse with her mother and father relocating to North Carolina and the possibility of her cousin moving downstate from Buffalo. When she last spoke to her cousin, Amelia said she was going to move to New York City even if she hadn’t secured a position with a firm; that she was willing to accept a position as an assistant DA or as a public defender as long as she could practice law.
Amelia had begun packing up her apartment, selling off what she didn’t want and putting most of her personal items in storage. She had also notified building management by certified mail that she would not renew her lease, which would expire at the end of July.
“Your food should be here shortly.”
A hint of a smile curved Jasmine’s mouth. “Are you going to join me?”
“No. I’m going to wait until we have dinner downstairs in one of the private dining rooms.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m going to wash my hands.”
Turning on her heel she headed for the bathroom. Jasmine stared at her reflection in the mirror over the double sink, unable to see the changes Hannah and Tonya had spoken of. Her face wasn’t any fuller and her eyes looked the same. Maybe they noticed things she wasn’t able to see because both had experienced their own pregnancies.
Other than the occasional nausea, fatigue, and tenderness in her breasts, Jasmine did not feel pregnant. One of the books she bought contained a journal for trimesters and a schedule for her to chart her pregnancy weight gain at each prenatal appointment in four-week intervals until her sixth month. Thereafter it would be every two weeks for the seventh and eighth months; and then every week during her ninth month.
What she didn’t want to think about was being pregnant in the summer in New Orleans with the heat and humidity. Exercise was emphasized and Jasmine knew walking outdoors was not an option. St. John had an in-home gym but she didn’t want to impose on him to work out in his home. She dried her hands and returned to the living room where Cameron had uncovered a plate of sliced fruit and whole grain crackers on the dining area table. The table was set with flatware and serving pieces, small plates, glasses, and bottled water.
She met Cameron’s eyes. “That’s more than a snack.”
He smiled. “Eat what you want and I’ll put away the rest in case you’re hungry later.”
Jasmine slipped off her jacket, draping it over the back of a dining room chair. “Do you know of a health spa I could join? I need to begin an exercise regimen of aerobics and strengthening.”
“I sure do.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s on the lower level. There’s an exercise room and Olympic-size pool. Do you swim?”
“Yes.” Swimming was one of the recommended exercises for a pregnant woman. “Is it possible for me to use the pool?”
“You could if you were registered here.”
Jasmine blinked slowly. “I’d have to register as a guest to use the pool?”
Cameron nodded. “Either that or you can move in with me. I’ll list you as my fiancée and you’ll be afforded all of the privileges I’m entitled to. I’ll put you up in the adjoining suite if you have reservations about living in this one with me.”
He was giving her an offer she was hard-pressed to refuse. And Jasmine knew she couldn’t continue to impose on Hannah and St. John until the inn was open for business. After all they hadn’t been married a year, which to Jasmine made them newlyweds.
She held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Cameron ignored her hand, took a step, and gently pulled her to his body. He lowered his head and kissed her, increasing the pressure until her lips parted under his relentless onslaught. Jolts of desire shot through Jasmine, settling in the area between her legs. The kiss reminded her of the one they’d shared on the yacht which had sparked a fire that was only quenched after Cameron joined their bodies.
Jasmine pushed against his chest, struggling to catch her breath. “Baby, no!” she moaned. Cameron pulled back. His eyes were so dark it was impossible for her to discern any blue.
“What’s the matter, darling?”
She smiled. “You were holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe.”
“Sorry about that. I have to remember that you’re in a delicate condition.”
Heat stung Jasmine’s cheeks. “I can assure you that I’m not going to break.”
Cameron kissed her again, this time at the corner of her mouth. “If I’m going to pass you off as my fiancée, then we have to make it look good.”
She went completely still. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’ll buy you a ring. It’s only going to be a matter of time before you’re showing and folks are going to start talking. So in order not to have to explain our relationship we can tell everyone we’re engaged.”
Jasmine knew Cameron had concocted the ruse more for himself than for her. After all he was the scion from one of the city’s prominent families and it’s apparent he didn’t want to tarnish the Singleton name. She pondered his suggestion realizing what did she have to lose? “Okay, we have a pretend engagement, but what do we say when folks ask when we’re getting married?”
“We say we want to wait until we have the baby.”
“Did you just come up with your own version of this fairytale or have you been thinking about it all along?” she said accusingly.
“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if you didn’t bring up the subject of joining a health club. We may not love each other, but we’re going to have to get along now that we’re going to share a child. At times I know I can be a little overbearing.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Jasmine quipped.
“But I’m trying to change. If I come on too strong, then I want you to tell me.”
“I’ll definitely do that.”
“Do you always have to have the last word, Jasmine?”
“Yes.”
Shaking his head, Cameron touched the pad of his thumb to the attractive beauty mark on her right cheek. “Now that we’ve determined you’re the boss in this relationship, when you do plan to move into the other suite?”
“The day before Tonya’s wedding.” She’d said that because St. John was scheduled to return home that weekend. “If we’re going to perpetuate the lie that we’re engaged, then we should shop for a ring as soon as possible.”
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Jasmine’s eyes focused on his firm mouth. Despite his arrogance, there was something so charming about Cameron that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. “I believe I am.”
Cameron glanced at his watch. “You better eat now. We have less than a half hour before we have to be downstairs.” He took her hand, led her over to the table, and seated her. “Excuse me, sweets. I’m going into the bedroom to call my assistant. I need to know if she’s scheduled any appointments for tomorrow, and if she has then I need her to reschedule them for later in the week.”
Picking up a fork, Jasmine speared a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet and juicy. So this is how my life is going to unfold, she thought. She would move into a hotel with room service and everything she’d need would be at her disposal. She would also become involved with a man who’d earned the reputation of being seen with a revolving door of different women.
What ifs came at her like pelting sleet. What if she hadn’t been downsized from Wakefield Hamilton? What if she hadn’t accepted Hannah’s invitation to commiserate at her apartment? What if she hadn’t agreed to become an attendant in Hannah’s wedding to St. John McNair? And what if she hadn’t given Cameron Singleton her phone number when he’d come on to her at the wedding reception. And she had to blame the final what if on Nydia, who’d urged her to accept Cameron’s invitation to dinner.
If all of the past events hadn’t occurred she wouldn’t be sitting in a hotel suite with the man whose child was growing inside her, while she agreed to become his pretend fiancée. She had waited to reach the age of forty-three for her life to become a plot for a made-for-television movie.
Jasmine had eaten a small portion of the fruit plate and drunk a glass of water when Cameron returned. “I can’t eat any more now.”
Cameron covered the plate. “I’m going to put this in the fridge. You may want it later or I can have it packed up for you to take back to Hannah’s.”
“I’ll probably take it back. I’ve been drinking fruit smoothies.”
She picked up her jacket and slipped it on while Cameron went into the kitchen. Jasmine had to admit the luxurious suite offered amenities that exceeded her expectations. All she had to do was pick up the phone and whatever she requested would be delivered—all because of the man with whom she found herself falling in love. But that was her secret. She’d sworn never to let her heart rule her head and she had to be very careful never to let Cameron know of her love for him.