My Brother Sent Me to the Kids’ Table—Until His Billionaire CEO Sat Beside Me

thing?” Caleb would ask with barely concealed amusement, twirling his fork at Sunday dinners.

“It’s freelance writing,” I’d say, already knowing it wouldn’t register.

He’d grin that infuriating grin. “Freelance is just code for unemployed. Don’t worry—when I make VP, I’ll see if they need an administrative assistant. Someone to fetch coffee and write continue reading …