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She takes another sip.

I turn my body to face her.

“Is that a problem?” I ask.

“I mean, I like to think I can handle the job…” she says modestly.

“I know you can handle the job. I’m not talking about that. I’m asking if you can handle working right below me? Closely with me.”

Natalie nearly chokes on her drink, and before I can say anything else, Reese walks out.

“Everyone! Everyone! Dinner is ready in the formal dining room.”

Formal dining room. Awesome.

Natalie heads into the house, and I follow along with a few others that I recognize from the board meeting. The dining room is off to the side, between the living area and the kitchen. The table is marble and long enough for twenty people; we fill about half of it. It’s set with wine glasses, water glasses, appetizer plates, salad plates, dinner plates, and silverware to match.

I am used to luxury. I grew up with old money, came into old money and added my own earnings to that as well. I am also used to seeing the kinds of people who have money. It’s a bit like watching a reality TV show, drama, noise, and all. I take another sip of my drink as we sit down.

Natalie chooses a chair near the end of the table. I pull it out for her before sitting down next to her.

“Hey boss, why don’t you sit up here at the head of the table?” Garrett asks with a car salesman smile, and I wonder why he’s not doing just that.

“Better vantage point,” I state, shutting him down. Because if I sit there, I’ll be forced to make small talk with him and Reese. And if I’m forced to make small talk with Garrett and Reese, I might kill someone.

That and it’s too far away from the one person in the room I actually want to sit next to.

Everyone digs into the hors d’oeuvres in the middle of the table: shrimp cocktail, a charcuterie board, and caviar.

Natalie reaches for a slice of bread, but someone cuts in front of her, swiping it before she can.

I reach over her, grab another slice and lock my eyes on her before handing it to her. She blinks, and I watch the softness of her throat waver as she swallows.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

I nod.

Suddenly, a woman walks in the room that seems to get everyone’s attention.

“I’m here, I’m here. We can start now,” she says.

She’s an older woman, dressed in white wide-legged dress pants, wedge cork heels, a flowy bright pink blouse, and has enough dangly jewelry to hold up the entire line at airport security. Guessing by the brands she’s wearing, I doubt she flies commercial. Her white hair is short and curled modernly. She has high cheekbones, manicured eyebrows, and once she takes off her oversized Chanel sunglasses, I can tell she’s got about fifteen years on me.

“Margaret!” Reese gushes, leaning in for a hug. Margaret makes a point of barely touching Reese and does the whole kiss on the cheek that doesn’t actually touch the cheek thing.

“Is that wine?” she asks, heading to the table. “God, I need wine. Actually, do you have brandy? I prefer brandy, but you know this.”

“I do know,” Garrett says, coming around the corner and handing her a glass.

“Well, aren’t you a good boy?” she says, her tone gushing with sarcasm that goes clear over his head. Then she eyes the table for a place to sit.

“Margaret, there’s room by Garrett and me,” Reese points out.

“Oh, don’t bother, darling, I’m going to snag the seat next to this handsome man,” she says. Before I know it, she’s sitting next to me.

Natalie chuckles. “Buckle up.”

“And who are you?” she asks me after taking a literal swig of her brandy and reaching for a slice of cheese.