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  Power & Choice

  Iris Boys: Book Two

  Lucy Smoke

  Table of Contents

  Also by Lucy Smoke

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Iris Boys 3

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Lucy Smoke LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission in writing from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no endorsement, implied or otherwise, if any such terms are used.

  Power & Choice is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The author holds all rights to this work and it is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  Created with Vellum

  Also by Lucy Smoke

  The Nerys Newblood Series

  Book One: Daimon

  Book Two: Necrosis (Coming Soon)

  The Iris Boys series

  Book One: Now or Never

  Book Two: Power & Choice

  The Winthrope Five Novella Series

  Study Break

  Tough Break

  Acknowledgments

  A major thanks to Tate James and C.M. Stunich, two of the best big sisters ever. To my sunshine, Jen, who is my personal assistant and friend. To my editor, Kristen, who needs to stop booking up so quickly because then you’ll have no time for me aka your favorite.

  To the wonderful people in my life who have always supported me from the very beginning. You cannot know how grateful I am for you.

  To everyone who read Now or Never, Iris Boys: Book One. Whether you liked it or not, thank you for reading.

  And, finally, to Joseph Campbell’s novel Hero with a Thousand Faces. Thank you for the knowledge and words of wisdom and understanding. Not everyone understands that every story is the same, simply told from a different angle and that is what makes it unique.

  Dedicated to Ashley Isom. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve shown true bravery and passion. I want you to know how important you are to me. With love, Lucy.

  Chapter 1

  Are you sure I look okay?" I asked as Marv pulled into his parents’ long driveway.

  At the sight of their elegant manor, my heart rate kicked into overdrive. I wondered if, when he stopped the car, I could slide into the driver’s seat before he could open my door...or before he realized that I was stealing his precious BMW in an effort to get out of meeting his mom.

  "Sunshine, you look fine. Mom's going to love you, don't worry." He smirked as he pulled up and cut the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition and sliding them into his pocket. I narrowed my gaze at him. Had he known what I was thinking? "She's nice," he reassured me.

  "Of course she's nice to you," I said. "You're her son. I don't know if it's escaped your notice, but I'm not exactly..." I gestured down to the pale blue sundress he had bought me earlier. Had I known it was so that I would look nice when I met his mom, I might have dropped it in the mud. "… presenting who I really am."

  "You're a beautiful young woman that I'm working with," Marv replied. "You're not lying to her."

  "I don't wear these dresses on a normal basis, Marvin," I snapped, using his full name, which I never did.

  He rolled his eyes and got out, striding around the front of the car, while I sat back with my arms crossed over my chest. Marv stopped outside my door to straighten his tie and suit jacket, before opening my door. He perched his arm at the top of the door as it hung open.

  "Are you going to sulk in the car the entire time or are you going to come in and meet my mom?" he asked.

  "Why do I even have to meet her?" I asked, panicked. "It doesn't make any sense. I can't tell her about Iris, not that you have really told me more than the basics."

  He sighed and folded both arms over the door, resting his weight against it. "She knows about Iris.” At my look of shock, he rolled his eyes. “She knows a little less than the basics – just that I work for an organization known as Iris that does a variety of work.” He huffed. “Can we go now?” When I glared at him, he sighed again. “Please come inside?"

  My glare dissolved into a frown which then turned into what was probably a pathetic looking pout. "Ma-arv," I whined.

  "Har-low," he whined back. I squinted at him. "Come on," he said.

  Reaching inside and snagging my wrist, he tugged me out onto the driveway pavement...err...cobblestones. Geez. Cobblestones? Was that here last time? I hadn't gotten out of the car when I had tagged along to pick Marv up the last time I had seen his parents’ elegant Charleston countryside manor. I should have remembered the cobblestones – or better yet, Marv should never have tricked me into coming here. I wasn't good around parents. Not even my best friend, Erika's, parents and they had known me practically my entire life.

  I wavered on my heels – the heels I chose to match this dress specifically – not knowing that I would have to walk across the most random cracks to ever grace a walkway surface. I clutched Marv’s coat sleeve as we walked towards the front stairs leading to the front door. How he could walk around in full dress when it was nearly ninety degrees outside, I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  My legs were bare from mid-thigh down to my strappy heels. The dress I had chosen was for the summer – I mean, it was a sundress. Two strings over my shoulders kept the dress just high enough for decency, but I was showing way too much skin to be comfortable meeting Marv's elegant, debutante mother. Marv chuckled when I dug my nails into his skin through his shirt sleeve in retaliation. That was another thing. I didn't have any nails! Marv's mom probably got her nails done every week. I had never even been to a nail salon. I barely remembered to try and paint my nails on a regular basis. Would she notice the chipping red polish in my cuticles?

  I didn't have time to think on it anymore because, once at the front door, Marv didn't knock or warn his family that he was coming in with a guest. Instead, he simply opened the door and pushed me through first as if offering me up for slaughter. My gaze went slack-jawed. What I stepped into wasn't a house; it was a freaking movie set.

  A large, dark mahogany staircase was encased in lily-white carpeting down the middle. It sat several paces in front of the entryway. To the right was an open doorway leading to a formal looking dining room complete with a twelve-person table. The table was made of wood similar to the staircase, though it had a delicate looking white lace tablecloth covering all but the bottom half of the legs.

  "Mom!" Marv called into the large house.

  I whipped around on my heels, hell bent on smacking the shit out of him for announcing our presence so callously. Just as I was about to knock some ever-loving sense into him, I heard the tell-tale sign of running feet.

  "Marvie!" A flurry of striking blonde hair and pale, ice white skin came barreling down the staircase at breakneck speed. The young girl, obviously excited to see Marv, stopped se
veral steps up and launched herself off of the staircase. My eyes went round in shock as Marv choked and dove for her, nearly missing her flying body.

  "Geez, Quinn, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Marv set the girl down on her feet. She grinned up at him, bouncing around as though she had springs sewn into her shoes.

  "I'm so glad you're here," she said quickly. "You can talk to Mom for me."

  "Talk to her about what?" Marv asked.

  Quinn drew in a deep breath before stepping away and folding her arms across her chest. My lips quirked. She looked so much like her brother when she did that. "She wants to send me to etiquette camp."

  "Oh," Marv said, standing up and straightening his tie, even though it hadn't even budged during the entire ordeal. I rolled my eyes. "Well, what would I have to say about that?" Marv asked. "Boys don't go to etiquette classes."

  Quinn huffed and stomped her foot. "I'm going to all of her friend's tea parties! I shouldn't have to go away for half the summer for etiquette camp!"

  "Will it get you out of the junior debutante ball?" Marv asked.

  Quinn puffed out her cheeks and blew a raspberry. "That's just the thing!" she exclaimed. "Mom says I need to go to the camp to prepare for that thing! I don't even want to go!"

  "Marvin? Are you here?" A warm voice sounded from somewhere further in the house, just beyond the staircase on the first floor. Quinn's eyes widened and she grabbed ahold of her brother's sleeve.

  "Just do what you can," Quinn said quickly. Her eyes skidded over me just as she turned to flee her mother's presence. She blinked once as if surprised before dashing away, glancing back over her shoulder at me curiously. It wasn't until she was out of sight that I realized I should have introduced myself – or at least waved.

  I sucked in a breath and stepped closer to Marv, just behind his shoulder, as a woman dressed in an elegant, white pantsuit with hair pulled back into a sophisticated chignon stepped around a doorway several paces beyond the staircase. She strode into the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

  "Did I hear your sister in here?" she asked as she approached.

  Marv grinned down at his mother who, even in heels, was just an inch or two shorter than him. "I think your hearing might be going, old woman," he teased.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she batted at his arm playfully. "Lord, don't tell me that now or it’s all I will think about for the rest of the day."

  He laughed and though I took a step back, wondering if I could escape out to the car before either of them noticed, Marv moved and slipped an arm behind my back, pressing me forward. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my friend, Harlow Hampton."

  Marv's mom blinked at me, similar to the way her daughter had, before holding out her hand for me to shake. Slowly I stepped forward and accepted it in greeting. "Friend?" she repeated, curious.

  "Yes, Mom, a friend," Marv said. "I do have those, you know."

  "Oh, of course you do," she said, frowning at him. "I've met Knixon and Bellamy and your friend Texas, but never..." she trailed off, glancing back to me and realizing she still had my hand in her firm grip. She immediately released it. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Harlow. My name is Caitlyn Carter."

  "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Carter," I replied.

  She smiled brightly, regaining herself. "Oh, dear, do call me Caitlyn. Only my co-workers and employees call me Mrs. Carter. Shall we adjourn to the back patio for afternoon tea? You're just in time." Without giving either of us a chance to respond, she turned and hurried back the way she had come.

  I stared after her, stunned for a moment before flicking a glare at Marv.

  "I hate you," I hissed.

  I wouldn't forget this. I knew exactly what I would do to pay Marv back for this. I was going to soak all his suits in a big, fat vat of jello when we got home. Texas would help. One thing I'd learned was that Texas was the most playful of the bunch. Knix would laugh and tell us to clean up our mess. Bellamy would sometimes partake in the mayhem if it necessitated his artistic skills – like when Texas had him paint Marv's BMW in rain activated paint. It still looked a shiny, dark gray, but as soon as it rained, Marv's perfect BMW would be the sweetest bubblegum pink. I couldn't wait to see his reaction to that.

  Chuckling, Marv guided me out to the back patio with his arm still around my waist. Thankfully it wasn't tiled or covered in decorative cobblestones. I strode across the plain rock surface and met his mom at a diamond shaped patio table shaded by a large, white umbrella. She beamed at the two of us for a moment before taking her seat and proceeded to pull a napkin into her lap as a young man with cherry red hair paused by her side, holding a silver tray with champagne flutes. I stared in confusion as Marv put a hand on my lower back and pulled out my seat for me. I looked back at him, but sat properly, and he took the seat next to me.

  Mrs. Carter took one of the flutes and the young server moved around to offer one to Marv who shook his head politely to decline. When he approached me, I did the same. Even if I was twenty-one, I'd be terrified of drinking in front of Marv's mom.

  "So, dear, tell me, when did you meet my Marvin?" she asked, turning to cross one of her legs over the other. Her pants leg slid up just a few inches revealing her stunning black heels with red undersides.

  "I... um... at work," I said lamely.

  "Oh, you work for Iris, too, then?"

  "I..." I glanced at Marv. I had been inducted into Iris, but hadn't gone through what they considered...orientation. So, while I was technically a probationary member of the guys’ team, I wasn't completely sure where I stood with Iris yet.

  "She's a new recruit," Marv answered for me. I released a breath and he slid a hand under the table to squeeze one of mine in reassurance before drawing back. Mrs. Carter watched us as she sipped her champagne. I wanted to ask about tea but didn’t want to be rude, so I kept my mouth shut.

  "Hmmm," Mrs. Carter hummed as she sipped her champagne. "And do you work at Iris full time, Harlow?"

  “For now, yes, Ma’am. I-I am," I replied unsteadily.

  Marv's mom nodded her head and was diverted as the same server from before returned with a trolley of small sandwiches and mini teacups. At least the promised tea hadn't been an excuse to get me out here. I shot Marv another annoyed look, swearing retribution.

  He either didn't see it or completely ignored it because as the red-haired server stopped by the table, Marv leaned over and snatched a finger sandwich from one of the trays. Mrs. Carter reached forward and slapped his hand away, though she didn't manage to retrieve the sandwich before Marv popped it into his mouth with a grin.

  "Manners, Marvin," she said with narrowed eyes.

  His response was to finish the sandwich in his mouth while the trays were dispersed to the table along with the mini teacups. Mrs. Carter waited until they were all set out and the red-haired boy had disappeared back inside. I stared at the food and tea, stomach rumbling with hunger, but terrified of doing the wrong thing. Mrs. Carter reached for a small plate and a sandwich and placed it in front of herself. I mimicked her actions as Marv simply went in for the kill, piling his plate and pouring tea for both himself and me.

  "Mom," he whined, "why do you always insist on using child sized tableware?"

  Mrs. Carter chuckled as she nibbled on the edge of her sandwich. I couldn't stop myself. I inhaled two of mine and then reached for a third. Mrs. Carter's gaze tracked me, and with the two sandwiches already in my stomach I consciously slowed down. I added another sandwich to my now empty plate and set it in front of me without touching it.

  "So, Harlow," Mrs. Carter said. "Are you from the Charleston area?"

  "Yes," I replied. "My mom's from here. I've lived here my entire life."

  "Oh?" She smiled. "What's your mother's name, dear, perhaps I've met her?"

  I froze. “Oh… um... no, you probably haven't," I said quickly. "She's been very ill for most of her life." I winced at the white lie. This was Marv's mom and I wanted to make a good impression. I didn't want to
lie to her, but as I glanced over my shoulder at the manor and then at the elegant garden and tea set we were using, I didn't see how I could tell her that my mom was a woman from poverty, living off of my new income – or what income I supposed I would be making soon – and disability.

  "Oh my, is it serious?" I couldn't tell if Mrs. Carter had perfected the act of caring when she didn't or if she was truly concerned. Her curiosity was mixed with worry that looked neither too obvious nor overstated.

  "Cancer," I replied.

  "How dreadful," she said with a delicate hand going to her heart. "My condolences."

  I stiffened, but nodded my head anyway, accepting them. I always hated when people said that. It felt like they were already condemning my mom.

  "So," Marv interrupted the awkward silence by clearing his throat, "I hear that you're trying to send Quinn to etiquette camp."

  Mrs. Carter turned toward her son and sipped the rest of her champagne. "Yes," she said after a beat. "I was considering it, but now I'm not sure."

  "Finally realized Quinn would rather be out riding horses or following squirrels into woods?" He grinned at her.

  Mrs. Carter didn't reply to the teasing. Instead, she furrowed her brow and reached for a tea cup. "I understand that your sister is a bit of a free spirit, but that's not why I've been considering pulling her from the camp."

  "Oh?" Marv leaned forward as I stared between the two of them, the confused concern on her features evident.