Camera Flashes (1) - Taylor Swift

14

"I'm really a little upset about jury duty," Taylor poured two cups of coffee on her Cornelia Street house. Grace had arrived the night before and mumbled something about it being 'cute and cozy' while immediately trying to undo Taylor's jeans.

"You are... adorable," Grace was leaning on the island countertop, the most rested she had felt in years. She wasn't wearing her usual styled outfits, but instead she had her hair in a bun and one of Taylor's old, worn sweaters on. Her forearms were against the marble, her head rested against them as her body was folded at a near ninety degrees.

Taylor looked up from the mugs and smiled at Grace's words, "For being disappointed about jury duty?"

"As a dual citizen, I thank you for your civic duty. As someone who would never be caught dead at jury duty, I hope you have showered since you left it."

"I showered right after, Gracie, it was days ago," Taylor chuckled, she had jury duty at the end of August and it was the third day of September. She unfortunately hadn't seen Grace since the weekend before her eye surgery but they'd been talking on the phone, "Two sugars?"

"And a splash of whiskey," Grace yawned, putting a hand over her mouth. Taylor laughed as she put two spoonfuls of sugar into the caffeinated beverage and stirred, sliding it towards the heiress' direction.

Grace wasn't joking about the whiskey, not that Taylor realized, "You're a dual citizen so you vote in both?"

"Mhmm," Taylor was surprised by Grace's short, wordless answer.

"Do I dare ask who you vote for?"

Grace sat up and picked up the mug with both hands, "I'm sure you can guess. I like whoever wants gay rights and to tax the rich."

"Tax the rich," she raised a suspicious eyebrow, "You really do hate your family."

"I give Parker a ten million dollar 'bonus' every year that he puts into an offshore account for me so one day I can run away and never go back," Grace sipped the coffee and let the warmth soothe her throat. It was slightly sore after their first night not having to worry about sound travelling between walls, Parker was staying at the hotel she was 'staying in'.

"And you trust him not to run off with that money?"

"Darling, I make nearly ten million dollars a day just sitting here," Grace watched as Taylor just about choked on her coffee, "If he wants it, he can have it."

"You're so my new sugar mommy," Taylor took a seat on the other barstool and watched as Grace's cheeks got red at the thought.

"It's not actually to run away, it's to fund the things I do not want my father knowing about," Grace cleared her throat, "Like my burner phone."

"Why do you have a burner phone just to pick up women? You might as well just write down a hotel name and room number and pass that along instead of your weird little card."

"It is for more than just picking up women, but to be clear, you are the last person I gave a card to."

"Then please, darling," Taylor began, fighting a smile at the thought of Grace only being with her, "Tell me who calls you on that phone. Are you smuggling drugs?"

"It's a private investigator I hired to locate my brother," Grace avoided Taylor's eyes as she finally said that out loud. There were three people besides her immediate family (and those that helped cover it up) that knew that Michael didn't actually die, Parker, Charlie and her sister-in-law. She had to get it off her chest because for once, just once, she didn't want to have to pretend with someone.

"Your brother...?" Taylor stopped and knit her eyebrows, pushing the mug up the counter, "I thought- but, wait. There's William and then there was Michael... was there another?"