(GRAYSON'S POV)
Dinner is usually my quiet time. The one damn hour of the day where nobody's asking me for favors, nobody's trying to corner me in my office, and nobody's breathing down my neck about deadlines or bills or donors or the endless line of idiots who think I owe them something.
Just me and my family. My real life.
Right now I sit at the head of the long oak table, watching Monica laugh as she passes the mashed potatoes to Alyssa. Our eldest is home for the weekend, still insisting her political science classes are "so much harder than anyone realizes." She says it like that every time she's home.
Dianne rolls her eyes. "Alyssa, I'm taking biochem. You don't get to complain about anything."
"Oh please," Alyssa says, waving her fork at her sister. "Your biggest problem is memorizing the Krebs cycle."
Connor snorts. "And your biggest problem is picking which blazer matches your personality for the day."
