Switch (Landry Family 3)

“I didn’t accept it.”

“She said that too,” she laughs. Her words calm the acid in my stomach just a bit. “I don’t think she meant it. What do you think of her?”

“I’m not discussing this with you, Swink,” I say, using the nickname our grandfather gave her years ago because she’s so nosey.

Camilla sighs. “You want to know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“Graham! Stop it and listen to me.”

Rolling my eyes, I switch hands. “I am. I’m listening to you meddle.” My jaw clenches. “Want to hear what I have to say about you setting her up on a date tonight?”

“Oh, did that bother you?” she asks sweetly.

“Why do I suspect that’s why you did it?”

“Because you’re not stupid,” she laughs. “Look, Ford and Lincoln have both said you like her. And,” she says loudly over my objection, “I’m friends with her, G. I know . . . things.”

“I know if you pull that again, your check from Landry Holdings next month will be late.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she giggles.

“Try me. Now I have to get back to work since I’ve gotten nothing done this week.”

“That’s telling,” she mutters.

“That’s telling that something needs to change. I have Lincoln’s wedding to monitor before he fucks up his life. I have Ford’s security business to take care of, Barrett’s odds and ends he left behind here to deal with,” I sigh. “I have investment meetings all week for our portfolio and a land deal Dad wants to look at early next month that I have a lot of prep work to put in. Sienna is wanting to pull a part of her money out and invest in some fucking hat line that will be a total fucking loss, and I have to deal with Mom trying to convince me to let Sienna spread her wings. Then I have your bullshit, creeping around God knows where—”

“Stop it.”

“I could if you’d just be open with me about who you are seeing.”

“Who says I’m seeing anyone?”

I look at the ceiling in exasperation. “You said yourself I’m not stupid. Dad wants me to hire Parker to follow you around and—”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I haven’t,” I warn, “but I will if you don’t ‘fess up soon.”

She gruffs through the line, mumbling about me being overprotective, but it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Finally, she sighs. “Why don’t you go take a bubble bath or something? Take the night off.”

“I don’t have the luxury to be unproductive, Camilla.”

“Easy there, big guy,” she says softly. “I didn’t say you did. I’m just saying . . .”

“Saying what?” I bark at my sister, then immediately feel guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out.”

“I can tell.”

Silence stretches between us and I kick myself for letting things get like this. This isn’t me. I manage shit. Shit doesn’t manage me.

If I break, it all falls apart. If I fail, we all go down.

“When is the last time you did something you wanted to do?” she asks. “Not for work or for any of us, but for you?”

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I see an incoming text from a number I don’t know. “I don’t know, Cam. What’s it matter?”