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I feel a surge of irritation watching them, the urge to throw a dinner roll at Talon almost overwhelming.
"Is something wrong, Reece?" Dad asks, his tone sharp.
"Justhungry," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Please, everyone, let's remember our upbringing. We have guests," Mom implores.
"These are hardly guests, Mom," Talon retorts. "Genesis is practically family, and Robyn...well, she and Knox might as well get married tomorrow."
The tension in the room is palpable, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one at the table who wants to toss something across the table at my little brother.
When will Talon ever grow up?
ChapterThree
Genesis
The transition from the creamy butternut squash soup to the next course, a perfectly roasted turkey with a tangy cranberry glaze and Thanksgiving fixings, accompanied by a rich, earthy Pinot Noir, feels almost seamless. Polite chatter fills the room, everyone complimenting the chef on the delicious flavors.
As dessert is served—a pumpkin spice soufflé with a hint of cinnamon, topped with vanilla bean ice cream—the room buzzes with appreciation. Yet, the undercurrent of anticipation about Forrester Media's future weighs heavy on everyone's mind like an uninvited guest.
Throughout the meal, I can't help but sneak glances at Reece. Our eyes meet, sparking a silent conversation about that night ten years ago. The unsaid words hang in the air, a mix of curiosity and regret. Talon, as usual, fills any silence with his chatter, unknowingly weaving a shield against the tension.
Finally, Reece breaks through the polite facade. "Mom, Dad, dinner’s been great, but what's this about Forrester Media? Dad, you mentioned something about aStag of the Monthfor our magazine?"
Rachael, clearly not expecting this, drops her cloth napkin on the table. "I wish you hadn't mentioned that, Jeron. I wanted to explain my idea to the boys," she pouts.
"Now, dear," Jeron tries to calm her, "I didn’t give them the details."
Reece looks at his mother, pressing for more information. "Right, Mom. He really didn't say much, which is why we're all in the dark."
Rachael, bubbling with excitement, unveils her idea. "We thought of doing something fun for our female readers. We'll feature eligible bachelors—sportsmen, doctors, lawyers—and interview them. It'll be a delightful read."
As she explains, the room's energy shifts to incredulity. Robyn, finally finding her voice, clarifies, "So, we'd interview different men each month for a special publication?"
"Exactly," Rachael says, "like a Mr. January, Mr. February, and so on..."
Reece's patience snaps. "Who has the time to follow these men around? We're already swamped with the regular publications. How are we supposed to fit this in?"
The room falls into a tense silence, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the next room. Rachael sips her coffee, unperturbed by Reece's outburst.
"We'llfindtime," she says calmly. "For January, we could start with one ofyouthree. You'reallsingle, after all."
The tension is now so thick it's almost suffocating. Talon, ever the jester, smirks knowingly, while Reece and Knox look like they'd rather be anywhere else.
Reece's objection is firm. "We don't have a writer for this, and I’m certainly not volunteering to be the first bachelor up for this...project." He leans back in his chair, as if his statement should close the matter. But in the Forrester household, it's clear Rachael usually has the final say.
“Knox, you're the oldest," Rachael declares, "You can go first."
"What the fuck? Like hell I am!" Knox erupts, his patience snapping. Talon, unable to contain himself, slaps the table, erupting in laughter.
"Language!" Jeron reprimands sharply.
Robyn, looking increasingly uncomfortable, suddenly stands. "I think I'm going to be sick. Excuse me." She doesn’t wait for a response, swiftly leaving the room.
"Robyn, wait," Reece calls out, rising to follow her. I'm taken aback. I thought she had something with Knox, but Reece's reaction suggests otherwise. As I mull over this, the conversation at the table heats up again.
"Aren't you going to stop him, Knox? Wow, Reece is Mr. Steal Your Girl—forget one of the months!" Talon teases, but Knox ignores him, his gaze fixed on their mother.
