The Switch (3 page)

Grayson recalled Corbin’s nervous fit a few
minutes prior. Something wasn’t right.

“Exactly,” Rose chimed in. “You’re coming up
on thirty, Gray. You boys don’t need to prove yourselves with any
more juvenile pranks and nonsense. It’s time to grow up and start
acting your age, right, ‘Liv?”

Olivia pressed her lips together and gave
Grayson that
look.
He would have laughed if he wasn’t so
completely freaked out. She always did have a secret hate-on for
Rose. Nice to see some things hadn’t changed. Or maybe not so
nice…

“If you’ll excuse us,” he said to his
friends, clasping his sister by the elbow and leading her to a set
of doors at the back of the ballroom.

“Really, Grayson. Next you’ll be having the
butler escort me out.”

“Sorry.” He released her arm, but continued
to lead her into a private sitting area. “I didn’t want an
audience,” he said, closing the doors behind them.

“That’s a change,” she said dryly.

He ignored the jab and walked over to a
small wetbar in the corner. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No. Thank you,” she answered.

Then why the hell are you here?
he
wanted to demand.

“Is everything all right with Mom and Dad?”
he asked, turning and leaning against the bar.

Something in her face relaxed for a second
before closing up again. “They’re fine, considering. I mean,
health-wise and all.”

‘
Considering.’
Grayson barely managed
to not snort out loud. He wouldn’t take the bait. This wasn’t some
heart-rending family reunion. Olivia’s reasons for being there were
sharp and intent. She’d never sully the soles of her shoes with
such a visit, otherwise.

He shrugged a silent question.
Then what
is it? Why have you suddenly burst into the shaky remains of my
life, and at Corbin’s request, of all things?

Olivia’s left eyebrow flicked upward. She
turned from him, making a deliberate perusal of the room. “You look
good,” she said. “I trust life is treating you well?”

“Well enough. You?”

“I’m fine. I’m engaged, again.”

‘
Again.’ Ouch.

“Things didn’t work out with the marketing
exec?” Guilt warred with anger. They were brother and sister, damn
it. Even if they didn’t get along, he should have been there for
her. But then, she was the one who’d sided with their parents,
eventually shutting him out altogether when it became evident he
wasn’t going to change to suit their purposes.

“His tastes were a bit too unconventional
for me,” she said, smoothing away a nonexistent wrinkle in her silk
blouse.

Grayson thought of his membership at
Club
Ten.
Then he thought of Marion in her Bettie Page costume.
‘Unconventional’ was the story of his life.

“Particularly the teenaged girl I found him
with,” she added in a dry but brittle tone.

Anger bloomed to protective rage, tamped
down only by the awkward, stifling propriety that defined their
upbringing. His shoulders tensed as he struggled not to fidget.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“Don’t be. Best I found out ahead of time,
before Daddy spent money on the wrong wedding.”

He gave a grunt and pushed away from the bar
with his hip. “Who’s the lucky candidate this time, then?” he
asked, turning to assess the stock of glasses and bottles. She
wasn’t there to discuss her love life, he knew. It was only a
matter of time before they got to her point.

“Andrew Barrington. He works at the
Baltimore firm. Daddy’s having him groomed for Senior Partner.”

“He’s not doing it himself?” Impossible to
keep a note of snark out of his voice. He turned back to face his
sister.

Olivia glanced up from her perusal of a
Tiffany lamp on the side table. “He has his hands full with the
campaign.”

The campaign. Of course. Grayson waged a
silent bet that this was the reason for their sudden reunion.

“Speaking of…”

Bingo.

He muttered a curse under his breath.
“Olivia, don’t. Whatever it is, you know I can’t change who I
am.”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into
a thin line before she spoke again. “Can’t or won’t, Grayson?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to grow the hell up
and try. You’re not a kid anymore. It’s time you set aside these
little acts of rebellion and take your place in this family once
and for all.”

“Whoah -
‘acts of rebellion’
- ? This
is my life you’re talking about.”

She gave him a look of pity and
exasperation. “Your life? You work part-time teaching inner-city
children how to paint flower pots. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself
you’re doing something noble or grand, but at least spare me the
bullshit. If it didn’t piss off our parents, you wouldn’t
bother.”

Arguing was pointless. She’d made up her
mind years ago about his choices, and there was no convincing her
otherwise. Of course, it didn’t help that, once upon a time, she
was absolutely correct in her assessment of him.

“People change, Olivia,” was all he could
offer, although he knew it wasn’t enough.

“Then prove it. Come home and quit this
nonsense once and for all. Our parents aren’t getting any younger.
And eventually, you won’t have a choice in the matter. You’ll still
be expected to take your place someday.”

He really wanted to raid the damned liquor
cabinet. Instead, he drew a deep breath and stepped away from the
bar.

“Dad wrote me out of the will ten years
ago.” Not that he cared, except that it had been his ticket to
freedom once and for all.

“He’ll put you back in if you--.”

Grayson could only shake his head.

Evidently realizing she was getting nowhere,
Olivia changed her approach. “Okay. Fine. But consider what’s going
to happen when those students of yours find out who your father is.
How many of them have family who’re illegals, Gray? You know
Daddy’s stance on that - it’s one of his top campaign agendas.”

That might be a problem.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit
to a smug twinge of pleasure that ‘Daddy’s stance’ was one that
could not take advantage of Grayson’s current line of work. More
than that, though, he actually gave a damn. They weren’t
‘illegals,’ they were human beings. He’d worked hard to gain those
kids’ trust, to bring them together to do something more than just
get by.

But whether Olivia had intended to or not,
she’d given him fair warning. He’d hold a discussion at his next
class. Better they hear it from him and know he had nothing to hide
on that front. It might even get some of them thinking a little
more beyond the streets.

“Olivia,” Grayson said, walking over and
placing his hands on her shoulders. “I love you. Send me an
invitation to your wedding. I would like to come.”

She regarded him for a long moment before
turning away with a huff. “Right. Absolutely, darling brother. And
happy birthday.”

“You too,” he replied to her back.

She paused at the door and glanced back.
“That lamp’s not an original, by the way. You might let William
know. His mother will want to hire a different decorator.”

Thank
god for five-inch heels. They weren’t exactly active-wear, but
damn, she loved these shoes, even knowing she’d want out of them in
another hour or two. For the moment, though, Marion relished the
way they made her hips tilt and her back arch, as if underlining
what was to come later that night.

They looked great on her, too. She’d felt
more than one pair of eyes lingering on her as she made a slow
circuit of the room’s perimeter. Not
his
eyes
,
however.

Marion absently pinched a thin layer of her
inner cheek between her teeth and frowned. She’d barely caught a
glimpse of Grayson before he’d disappeared. Maybe she mistook the
heat in his eyes. Impossible to say what that look was, really,
from across the ballroom floor. It could just as easily have been
anger or outrage. After all, they’d hardly spoken for four
months.

Oh, God, this was a huge mistake.

She turned on her heel and started toward
the exit. She was an idiot - what the hell had she been thinking?
That he’d fall on his knees here in the middle of high society, for
her?
Of course he’d disappeared. Probably doing her a favor,
giving her a chance to avoid mass humiliation.

“Nice riding crop, McKellan.”

The cool, familiar voice stopped her in her
tracks, almost causing her to trip.

Olivia.

What in god’s name was she doing here?
Olivia hated this crowd, had always deemed it below her standards.
And her opinion of Marion was about half that. Marion considered
pretending she hadn’t heard her, but the crisp, business-like click
of Olivia’s footfalls told her she was too late. She’d have to run
to escape Grayson’s twin sister, and that would only draw
attention. Especially since she’d probably break her neck trying to
run in her fuck-me shoes.

Swallowing back the sour dread that tinged
her mouth, Marion took a deep breath and turned, mentally preparing
for battle.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?”
Olivia drawled. “Oh, yes, I remember now - your time with Daddy’s
stable-boy undoubtedly gave you some familiarity.”

“Hello, Olivia,” she said with more calm
than she felt. “What an unexpected pleasure. How are you?”

Olivia made a disgusted sound and crossed
her arms. “Spare me. You’re no more pleased to see me than anyone
here is to see you. Why you keep returning to places where you’re
clearly not welcome is beyond me.”

“I was invited. Were you?”

“Right.
Invited.
We both know the
only person who wants you here is Gray. And we both know why.”

“Grayson’s is the only invitation I need,
and I’m fairly certain you know a lot less than you think,” Marion
said with surprising steadiness. Her blood was pounding. Despite
her controversial standing in their society, she was terrible at
actual confrontation. Especially when it came to Olivia. Everything
that made her a Domme seemed to struggle like a drowning man left
in the middle of an ocean as her adolescent mistakes came back to
haunt her.

Olivia gave her a pitying look. “You’re not
honestly that naive.” The diamond on her left hand sparkled as she
deliberately smoothed her glossy, chestnut hair. “Privileged as we
are, we all must eventually grow up and
move on.
That
includes Grayson. He is coming back, to take his proper place in
our family
.
He’ll have to marry, soon, and he’ll be expected
to marry someone in his own class.”

Marion snorted. “What century are you living
in?” At the same time, the thought of Grayson marrying someone -
someone
else,
made her stomach turn.

“Go ahead and laugh. But you know it’s true.
Eventually, he
will
outgrow his rebellious streak and leave
behind this twisted fascination he has with… well.” Her eyes swept
pointedly over Marion’s form.

Good lord.
She was used to the
disdain and thinly veiled barbs from people in this crowd, but
Olivia’s outright bitchiness made Marion’s head swim. The jab at
what was ultimately her lifestyle sparked her anger, however. She
opened her mouth to let loose on this deluded country-club
princess, but something gave her pause.

The barely-perceptible tremble in Olivia’s
voice wouldn’t have caught her attention alone. But there was a
slight flush to her cheeks, and her eyes - her whole demeanor,
seemed far more charged than appropriate. Something had really
upset her, and it wasn’t Marion. What
was
Olivia doing at
this party?

Before she could stop herself, Marion
reached out for Olivia. “Hey, are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine!” Olivia snapped, jerking out of
reach. She pulled her purse strap higher up on her shoulder and
smoothed her blouse down, lifting her chin a fraction. “I suppose
it’s just been a while since I’ve gone slumming. The things one
does for family, though… Not that you’d know anything about that,”
she added icily.

It all clicked, and Marion’s anger suddenly
dissolved into real remorse. “Olivia, I’m sorry,” she found herself
blurting out. “About Jasper, I mean.”

The flush drained from Olivia’s face,
leaving her pale and stark. “What?” she demanded in a low
voice.

Dumb move, undoubtedly. Marion never
apologized, for anything. That wasn’t who she was. And Jasper’s
name was like bile in the back of her throat, bringing a wave of
memories behind it. She hadn’t thought of him in years, hadn’t
mentioned him in longer.

Still, it felt oddly liberating, bringing
this to the surface. Now the words were out, and the rest began
dribbling forth like stagnant water from a cracked and rusted
barrel.

“I didn’t know,” she said in a rush. “I
mean, we flirted with him together, but I didn’t realize you had
actual feelings for him. I swear on my father’s life, Olivia, had I
known, I would never have gone near Jasper.”

“Oh, that. That was, god, what - ten, twelve
years ago? Get over it. I have,” Olivia said, already pulling her
composure back into place. “But you know ‘sorry’ doesn’t change
anything, especially not the fact that you got busted and everyone
in the community found out.”

Of course apologizing wouldn’t change
anything. Despite years of burying the incident, it was forever
ingrained in Marion’s memory. Not because it was her ‘first time,’
or even because she’d been caught with her pants down. But it had
marked the end of her friendship with Olivia, turning surrogate
sisters into ice cold enemies. And it had marked the beginning of a
much stronger version of herself.

‘Everyone in the community’ had found out
because Olivia had told them, the very afternoon she’d walked in on
Marion with Jasper in the back room of the Jones’s stables. The
news had blazed through their community overnight, and by the time
she’d arrived at school the following morning, the entire
population knew.