Page 35 of Branded

“Well.” Mom sets down her wine glass with a soft click. “I suppose we should head to dinner. I’m sure everyone’s hungry, and Martin has prepared quite the meal.”

We stand, and as the group migrates toward the formal dining room, James appears at Lennox’s side and pulls her ahead of me.

“You handled that well,” I hear him say. “Caroline’s tough to crack, but I think you just might have.”

“Did I?” Lennox sounds exhausted.

“Definitely. She only interrogates people she thinks might be worth her time. If she’d dismissed you, she wouldn’t have bothered asking questions.”

“That’s comforting, I think,” Lennox says flatly.

“It’s the Drake version of a warm welcome.” James grins. “Wait until you meet the twins. They’re much more straightforward in their judgments. If they like you, they’ll tell you. If they don’t, they’ll also tell you.”

“At least that’s honest.”

“Honesty is overrated in this family,” James quips, then catches my look and laughs. “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

The dining room is everything Mom loves: a crystal chandelier, a mahogany table that could seat twenty, and enough china to seat fifty people. Place cards indicate where we’re supposed to sit, and, of course, Mom has positioned Lennox between her and Dad at one end, while I’m relegated to the other end between Caroline and Nathaniel.

Divide and conquer. Mom wants Lennox without my interference.

Fuck.

But there’s nothing I can do without causing a scene, so I take my assigned seat and watch Mom begin her real interrogation under the guise of polite dinner conversation.

This is going to be a long night.

And from the way Lennox is gripping her whiskey glass, she knows it too.

12

LENNOX

The dining room is designed to intimidate.

A crystal chandelier drips with what has to be thousands of individual pieces, casting fractured light across a long mahogany table. The china is so delicate I’m afraid to touch it, silver so heavy it feels like weapons. Everything gleams, polished, perfect.

A showroom, not a place where people actually eat.

I find my place card between Eleanor and Walker at one end of the table, while Sebastian is exiled to the other end between Caroline and Nathaniel, and James beside his mother.

I sit carefully, smoothing my navy dress and accepting a water glass from the staff member who appears silently at my elbow. Another person pours wine, red, probably older than I am. I take a sip to be polite, even though whiskey is my preferred drink.

“So, Lennox.” Eleanor settles into her chair with the practiced grace of someone who’s hosted a thousand formal dinners. “Tell me about your family.”

Here we go.

“Five siblings,” I say, keeping my voice steady and pleasant. “Three older brothers, two younger sisters, as I said. We’re spread across about ten years.”

“And they’re all still in Montana?”

“Yes. Two of my brothers work the ranch with my father; my other brother, Crew, is a vet and works in a town a few hours away from the ranch.” The unfamiliar ache of homesickness hits me unexpectedly. I push it down. “My oldest brother, Cage, runs the day-to-day operations now. My father suffered a stroke last year and has been recovering.”

“It must have been difficult, leaving them to go to California.” Eleanor’s tone is sympathetic, but her eyes keep a sharp watch, waiting for me to mess up. “Especially for a ranch family. We’re usually quite close-knit.”

“It was.” The truth slips out before I can stop it. “But it was time to figure out who I was beyond my last name.”

“And have you?”