“Oh, Harold. Put that away. Now.”
Mr. Wilder sends a long-suffering look his wife’s way before putting the tablet beside his plate, neatly folding and placing his glasses on top of it. Seated next to him, I see Megan, who is fiddling with her camera and shooting me meaningful looks. She winks when she catches my eye. At the other end of the table, there’s another man in wire-rimmed glasses, engaged in what looks like a tense discussion with the woman by his side. Neither of them look particularly happy.
Just as we enter, a blonde man walks in carrying a large dish, his casual confidence immediately apparent. “I think your chicken roasted for a bit too long, Mom. I keep telling you to get the oven’s timer fixed.”
“Natalie, this is Caleb,” Helen introduces with obvious pride. “He’s my middle child. The one with the glasses is Nick. He’s the second-youngest, and the woman sitting with Nick is Elisha, his wife. I think you’ve already met Megan. She’s the youngest. And that is Jake behind Caleb, bringing in the breadsticks.”
Jake looks at me and freezes mid-step. “Natalie?”
His eyes swivel towards Ethan, and I see the hint of wariness in Jake’s expression as he studies his brother. “I didn’t know you were bringing her.”
“I invited Natalie, Jake,” Helen says sternly. “Now sit down, all of you. We are going to have a nice family dinner.”
She ushers me into a chair, Ethan taking the seat next to me. I sit stiffly, trying not to remember that I just slapped Ethan a minute ago.
“So, Natalie, how did you and my brother meet?” Megan begins with a mischievous grin.
“He’s my boss,” I reply, my voice carefully controlled.
“Your boss?” Megan’s eyes widen with theatrical surprise. “That’s strange. I could have sworn I saw the two of you—Ow! Why’d you kick me?!”
She glares at Ethan accusingly.
“Ethan!” His mother scowls at him disapprovingly.
Ethan shrugs innocently. “Sorry. My legs are too long. I was trying to get comfortable.”
“Well, watch your legs,” Helen warns him.
“That’s not all he should watch,” Megan snickers under her breath.
“Megan, if you don’t stop talking, I’ll stop the payments on your new car.” Ethan’s eyes narrow dangerously.
She gasps, outraged. “You can’t do that!” Her head swivels towards their father desperately. “He can’t do that, can he, Dad?”
Their father clearly isn’t interested in being dragged into the sibling warfare, so he just keeps carving the roasted chicken, unbothered. “You wanted a car. He offered to get you one. This is between the two of you. So Natalie,” he glances my way with genuine interest, “Jake tells me you’re the head of HR. You must be pretty busy with the restructuring.”
I smile, grateful for the change of topic. “Yes, I?—”
“Yes, Natalie. How busy does Ethan keep you?” Megan grins with wicked delight. She’s like a dog with a bone, and when Ethan snarls at her, their mother raises her voice.
“Enough! Megan, stop teasing your brother. And Ethan, stop using your money to bully your sister!”
“I didn’t even do anything,” Ethan protests with exaggerated innocence. “She’s running her mouth for no reason. Doesn’t she have a life of her own to worry about?”
“Oh, yeah. How’s your new boyfriend, Megan?” Caleb takes a bite of the mashed potatoes on his plate, his tone deliberately casual. “I saw you on his bike yesterday.”
“Bike?” Helen’s voice sharpens with alarm. “A motorcycle, Megan?”
All eyes turn towards Megan, who freezes like a deer in headlights, avoiding her mother’s horrified gaze.
“I—Caleb doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Hold up.” Jake frowns, his lawyer instincts kicking in. “I remember you telling me something about a classmate of yours who has a bike. Is he your boyfriend? Dad, is she old enough to date?!”
“What’s his name, Megan?” Harold demands with fatherly authority.
“Do you know how many accidents happen on bikes?” Helenpresses, looking genuinely upset. “This is why I never let any of the boys get a bike.”
