21. Graham
21
GRAHAM
It’s Sunday night, and I’m at my parents’ house. Like I am every week. I don’t know if I’ve ever missed a Sunday family dinner before. Maybe the one time I had the flu and was still contagious.
I love my parents, and I love this house. It’s the same house we grew up in, so it’s chalked full of memories. Mostly good, some bad. All memorable. I have a feeling that tonight is going to add another tally in the memorable category. If it all goes well, at least.
Laughter spills from the dining room, the warm scent of Mom’s infamous lasagna and something sweet curling in the air. It’s familiar, grounding in a way I don’t often acknowledge.
Beau’s all smiles, of course, sitting at the dining room table with his arm slung over the back of a chair. But it’s the person sitting next to him that makes me pause.
I was too wrapped up in my head when they came in to realize he wasn’t alone.
Eloise Hawthorne. I recognize her from the software I built for the Gauntlet to track all the race data. I didn’t realize Beau was at the Carter Sunday night dinner stage yet. But I should’ve known. You don’t throw away a sizable inheritance unless you’re serious.
They’re here, sitting close to one another. His arm around the back of her chair as he whispers something low in her ear. Her lips twitch, and my brother grins. It’s a true smile, the kind that brightens up the entire room.
But what’s more surprising is the other person at the table. I’m guessing Eloise’s younger sister. Their hair color is different, but they have the same nose.
Huh. Now that is different.
My brother is reckless in a lot of ways, but not with family dinners, not anymore. All it takes is one time, one damn-near insufferable dinner, sitting through our mother’s prodding questions about the status of your relationship. Then you never make that mistake again.
Except for my sister, Cora. She’s made that mistake often.
Even now, sitting next to her boyfriend, who’s a member of a motorcycle club for fuck’s sake, she’s weathering too many questions from Mom. Mostly about the timeline and status of their nuptials. Cora isn’t even engaged yet.
I exhale slowly as I step further into the living room. The weight of what I’m about to do settles heavy on my shoulders, a physical pressure that makes it hard to breathe.
Ever since I dug deeper into Francesca’s situation, uncovering the ugly truth buried in legal jargon and unrealistic benchmarks, my mind has been spinning. Turning over every angle, every possibility, searching for a solution. A way to make sure she doesn’t lose everything she’s worked so hard for. Everything that matters to her.
I found one. It would solve several problems. But I’m not sure if it’s the right solution.
The uncertainty makes me uncomfortable, like trying to fit into a too-small wool sweater. Tight, itchy, induces a slightly claustrophobic sort of panic. I’ve had days to marinate on this idea, and it’s solid.
I settle into my usual seat, on the other side of my brother. “Show time,” I mutter under my breath with a flash of a smirk. Sometimes family dinners feel like that, performative. Like it’s this play all of us have committed to once a week and our parents are the audience.
“What’s that, bro?” Beau asks, his tone light.
“Nothing.” I spear a piece of garlic bread and avoid his gaze. “Just enjoying . . . whatever this is.”
“Knock it off,” he mutters, but the words lack any real bite.
My molars grind together at the soft reprimand. As if I’m not about to alter my life for him.
My brows cave in as emotions bubble inside of me. Intellectually, I know it’s not fair to hold him to something he doesn’t know about. But emotions are funny like that. They don’t really give a shit about fairness and timing.
Across the table from me, my sister’s boyfriend, Jagger, leans forward with a grin. “So, Eloise, Beau tells us you like to bake. You should stop by Sugar Plum Bakery. Cora’s got about a million recipes she’s always working on.”
Eloise glances at my sister, her expression lighting up. “Oh, is that your bakery?”
Cora’s cheeks redden, but her smile is bright and full. “Yep. I’m working on having it open full-time, but I mostly do custom orders. I’m almost always there.”
“I’ll have to stop by sometime. What have you made recently? Beau said you like to experiment with stuff,” Eloise murmurs.
Cora laughs. “Yeah, sometimes it doesn’t work out, but I love trying new things. Last week I made these lavender honey macarons with a blackberry buttercream filling. They turned out pretty good.”
“They were delicious,” Jagger says, grinning at my sister like it’s some kind of private joke.
As much as I hate to admit it, jealousy curdles inside my gut. It’s stupid and misplaced, and I tune out the rest of their conversation so I can unpack it.
I’m happy for my sister. I really am. And I’m happy for my brother too. So I don’t really understand why I’m experiencing any kind of jealous feelings. It just doesn’t track.
“She fits right in,” Dad murmurs from his spot at the head of the table toward Beau.
Beau glance at Dad. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “She does.”
If Francesca says yes, will we recreate the same scene in a few months? Will she bond with my sister over baking, and will my dad tell me how well she fits in too?
I can’t logically see a reason why she wouldn’t. Francesca is adaptable, effortlessly charming in a way that isn’t calculated. People like her. More than that, they trust her. If she were here, my dad would probably be saying the same thing about her right now.
“Shit,” Beau mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
“What?” My brow quirks up.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.” A minute later, he leans over to me while everyone else is engaged in conversation. “Hey, bro, I need a favor.”
Curiosity pricks against the back of my neck. “What kind of favor?”
“Your favorite kind.”
I arch a single brow and lean back in my chair. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you calling an attorney last week, would it?”
He shakes his head, his lips twisting to the side. “Jesus, Graham. Get a fuckin’ hobby and stop hacking people.”
I lift a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and look around. Everyone else is still engaged in conversation or busy with their food. It’s not like anyone is looking to make a lot of eye contact with me today. I guess I’m not covering my emotions all that well today.
I scoff. “That is my hobby.”
“Then get a new one,” he grits through his teeth. “Are you going to help me or not?”
My gaze narrows on his plate with a frown. This is the perfect opportunity. I know if I get my brother to back me, then everyone else will go along with it. Maybe not completely, but if Beau supports me, then they won’t be as quick to question it.
“Fine. But then I need something from you too.”
“Fine, whatever. I need you to expedite something for me and do a background check. Pull everything you can. I don’t know if I’ll need it, but I want it in my back pocket just in case,” Beau says quickly, like he’s afraid I’m going to say no.
I study my brother, my intuition flaring hot. There’s something going on here, probably something to do with either the woman next to him or the Gauntlet. “That’s two favors.”
He narrows his gaze at me. “Are you serious right now?”
I huff a little, playing it up. My software can do everything he requested in an hour. I don’t have to pull things manually anymore, but he doesn’t know that.
“Fine. Who?”
He glances at Eloise, before whispering, “Darla Hawthorne.”
I level my expression, keeping it neutral. I already have a good idea of what he’s looking for. And if it’s anything close to what I found in Francesca’s files, I would’ve done it without asking for anything in return. Because some battles aren’t just about one person. They’re about setting the whole damn playing field right.
I glance over his shoulder at Eloise and murmur, “Consider it done.”
Cora pushes back her chair, the loud scrape pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m going to grab dessert,” she announces with a smile.
Eloise’s sister pops up from the seat next to Mom. “Can I help?”
Cora smiles at her, motioning her to come along. “Of course. I’d love the help.”
As I watch Cora and Eloise’s sister head to the kitchen, my mind churns with the weight of my impending decision. The easy rhythm of our Carter family dinner flows around me. The clink of silverware on China, the rich scent of Mom’s lasagna, the warm laughter and overlapping conversations. It’s a familiar comfort, a weekly ritual that grounds me no matter what storms are raging in my life.
But tonight, that comfort is tempered by the sharp press of responsibility against my ribs. An urgent need to act, to protect, to claim what’s mine before it’s too late.
My dad’s words echo in my head. “She fits right in.”
Francesca doesn’t have this. Not really. Her family isn’t a home. It’s a chessboard, and she’s always waiting for the next attack.
But they didn’t count on me. If she’s the queen, then I’m the rook. Steady. Unyielding. I’ll protect her flank, move in ways they won’t expect. I’ll be the reason she doesn’t have to fight alone anymore.
As they disappear into the hallway, I lean toward Beau. “Hey, I need that favor now.”
Beau’s head snaps toward me, his brows knitting together. “What? Now ?”
I nod my head a few times, my jaw tight with tension. “Yeah. I need you to back me up.”
Beau hesitates before dipping his chin in a severe nod. “Alright. What do you need?”
Cora returns with Eloise’s sister, both carrying trays of desserts. The sweet, buttery scent of freshly baked pie wafts through the air.
“We have mini pies tonight,” Cora says, beaming. “Cherry, lingonberry and lime, apple and cheddar.”
“Wow,” Eloise mutters. “Those look delicious, Cora.”
Cora’s cheeks flush, and her grin grows wide. “Thanks. I hope you like it.”
I stand up, my chair scraping against the hardwood floor. I clear his throat twice and roll my shoulders back. “Before we get into pie, I need everyone’s attention for a moment.”
Mom dabs her mouth with her napkin, looking at me. “What’s going on, Graham?”
No time like the present.
“Is everyone free three months from now? Saturday?”
Beau glances at me, an eyebrow raised in question. I stare back at him, silently communicating that this is the favor.
Back me up, Beau.
Thank god, he catches on quickly. A slow grin spreads across his face. “We’re free. Aren’t we, Peach?” Beau says, leaning back in his chair.
“W-what?” Eloise cuts my brother a look before looking around the table.
I meet everyone’s confused stares, keeping my emotions locked down and my expression neutral. “Ma? Dad?”
Dad sets his pie selection on his plate. “Is this one of your non-surprise surprise parties again? Because I told you, son, you don’t need to do that for us. We’re happy to just spend time with our family.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s nothing like that. But I’d appreciate it if you could clear your schedule that day.”
“Sure thing, son. Whatever it is, if it’s important to you, then we’ll be there,” Dad reassures me.
I exhale and nod, rolling my shoulders back. I’m committed now. There’s no undoing it. “Raincheck on the pie, Cora. Looks delicious though.”
I push my chair in and round the table, dropping a kiss on Mom’s head. “Thanks for dinner, Ma. I gotta run.”
It’s routine, the same as every week. But this time, Mom lingers, her fingers brushing my wrist. Like she already knows something’s different. She probably knows something is off. Mother’s intuition and all that.
“Are you kidding me? You’re not going to even tell us what’s going on?” Cora asks, her brows arched toward her hairline.
Oh, right. I forgot about that part. I almost wish I was staying, just so I could witness their reaction. I only wish my youngest sister was here too.
For a split second, I think about staying. Just to see the reactions play out. To see who gets loud first, to watch Cora demand receipts, or Dad try to keep the peace. To see who actually believes me, and who thinks I’ve lost my mind.
But that would mean answering questions I don’t have answers to. And there’s still one more person who needs to hear this plan first.
Francesca.
I pause in the doorway. “I’m getting married.”
A beat of stunned silence follows his announcement. Then the room erupts into a flurry of questions.