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I shrug before walking toward the table.
“Can I get you anything to drink, Oliver?” Cynthia asks.
“I’m good with water, Cynthia. Thanks.”
All of the glasses at the table have already been filled. I take a sip as soon as I’m seated in one of the wooden chairs.
“You live in New York?” Hannah’s mother asks, before I’ve had a chance to set down my glass.
“That’s right. I grew up there and returned after college. It’s a great city. Wonderful place to live.” I glance at Hannah, hoping I’ve accurately conveyed my love of the east coast. She rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her burger. I hide a smile before refocusing on Cynthia.
“Where in the city do you live? I haven’t been to New York in years.”
“I live in the Upper East Side. Carnegie Hill.”
“Oh, that’s a lovely area. Right by Central Park, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have roommates? Pets?”
I shake my head. “No. I live alone. I travel a lot for work, so it would be hard to leave a pet. My brother has a dog, so I watch him sometimes.”
“What kind of dog?” Cynthia asks eagerly.
“He’s mostly golden, I think. They’re not entirely sure. He was a rescue.”
“Is your brother married?”
I nod. “Yes. He got married a couple of years ago.”
“And is he your only sibling?”
“Mom!” Hannah cuts in. “Really, with the twenty questions?”
“I’m simply trying to get to know your husband, Hannah.”
There’s a sincerity and a hurt in Cynthia’s voice that reminds me—again—how different Hannah’s family is to mine. The last two times I was alone with my father, he told me to marry a stranger. The time before that, he punched me in the face. I can’t even remember the last time my dad, Crew, and I ate a meal together, just the three of us. Our version of family dinner is our weekly meetings that are totally focused around work and my father’s agenda.
“I don’t mind the questions,” I say, breaking the awkward silence that’s fallen.
It’s the first time anyone has acknowledged the real reason I’m here. That legally speaking, I’m a part of this family I’ve never met until now.
“You work at Kensington Consolidated?” Surprisingly, Mr. Garner is the one who speaks first.
“Yes.”
“That sounds fancy,” Rachel says. “What does your family’s company do?”
I shift in my seat. I was expecting this to come up, but I’m not thrilled now that it has. Too often, it feels like that’s all I boil down to: my family’s company. My last name.
“It’s a multinational conglomerate holding company. We have a broad portfolio of subsidiaries in several different industries.”
“They just bought part of Thompson & Thompson,” Hannah contributes, dipping her burger in a pile of ketchup without looking up.
“You handled that deal?” Mr. Garner asks.
“I had a team working with me,” I reply.
