Olivia Baker の小説・ストーリー

Keeping them outside and away was Olivia’s number one priority. Alexandra looked at the other woman, stunned at her beauty. Yeah, she’d known that Olivia Foreman, formerly Olivia Jameson, was an ex-model. She’d seen Liv’s photos plastered across men’s magazine covers, and she’d also read about the horrific attack that had unceremoniously ended that career.

Then she smiled and kept the bowl of fruit berriea she was carrying on the dinning table. Do you care for some? I didn't answer her. "Blake." Her voice was quiet. "Olivia is gone." She turned and looked at me directly. "Someone has to run this house” "That's me now.”

Unlike her sister, she had no makeup on her face but she was still breathtaking. " I'm 19 years old. I can cook, clean, and I hate commotion." She finished. Alexander snorted at her brief description. The waiter soon arrived with their orders and they dug in. " Well, as you know, I'm a billionaire. You're going to have to deal with it because the paparazzi are bound to follow the both of us around." Alexander leaned back in his chair. " If it's for my partner then I can try." Olivia sighed. Her statement amused Alexander.

Blake chuckled and I pulled my eyes from Sebastian and grabbed a plate, I was no longer hungry so I put a few sausage rolls on my plate. “So what do you do Olivia?” Stacey’s mum asked me. “Erm I’m a nurse" I replied, smiling at her. “Oh lovely. How do you know Blake and Sebastian?” the question caught me off guard and I choked slightly on a sausage roll. I felt Sebastian's eyes on me as I spoke. “God we’ve know each other for years I” “Ollie was my girlfriend,” Sebastian said looking down. I didn’t know if I wanted to hug him or kick him but I knew he was moving the topic away from Blake. I looked around the table at the shocked faces, landing on Stacey.

Olivia said while Grabbing the sides of her head and then sliding fingers down the cheeks, "Okay, let's go. I am in." I wrapped my arms around myself and led towards my bedroom and picked up a white sweatshirt and black jeans and my favourite white sneakers. I pulled my dark brown hair into one French braid. I only put on Babylips lip balm. I prefer my face makeup-free; it doesn't need any makeup. I grabbed my backpack and placed my credit card into it and reached out to the living room. Olivia is lying on one of the couches in the living room watching a random movie while munching chips. She is in blue jeans with a yellow tank top and a denim jacket over it. Her black hair is in a ponytail.

Chapter Four: The Letter in the Drawer Three weeks went by. Olivia lived in the town of Millfield. It was three hours away from the city. She rented a room above a bakery. The landlady was really kind. Did not ask her any questions. Olivia paid her rent in cash every week. She told everyone that her name was Liv. She worked in the mornings at the bakery. She cleaned tables and packed bread. In the afternoons she rested. The baby made her very tired all the time. She had morning sickness sometimes.. She still had not told anyone about the baby.

Gavin's answer made my entire body freeze. Next week. "Olivia is wrapping up her exclusive collaboration with Chanel before returning to oversee the expansion of her luxury fashion house between Paris and the Philippines." Gavin continued speaking. "She called me last night. She'll be here for my birthday." So they really were talking again. His ex. A bitter laugh nearly escaped my lips. Olivia Valencia. The visionary behind one of the world's fastest-rising luxury fashion houses. The woman whose face had appeared on the covers of Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, and countless magazines I could only admire from a distance.

Olivia remarked with a groan. Ava chuckled, “I thought you said you like teaching? How is it hard to teach, if I remember clearly you had a 5.0 GPA in high school, and you went to Yale, so what's hard?” Olivia had big dreams, she wanted to be one of best writers of her time, that was why she even risked taking huge loans in order to go to school, but after high school her mother addiction became worse and it affected her so the next thing she found herself in the hostesses bar, so she dumped her career, aside wanting to be a writer she also loved to teach.

She was beaming, her round face showing off excitement. The room responded with laughter, low and challenging, as the bidders gathered their chips, determined to get the best of them all. They were all prepared for the night’s rituals, and the very first young woman to get dragged out of the backstage —bruised, tortured, and confused—was Olivia, Jacob's obsessive sub and Naomi's friend.

Olivia was a perfect chef. She was proof that her food was good––always on the chubbier side, but she rocked it, and I didn’t know a more confident woman. She was spunky fun, and down to earth, and I loved spending time with her when my life fell apart. Olivia had everything together––we were opposites––but she was always there for me and my biggest fan even when I didn’t make it. She made me feel like maybe, I could try again. “Oh, my God,” I said around the food in my mouth before I swallowed. “That’s good. What is it?”