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

to it exactly. And Lena? No cardigans.”

That was Caleb in a nutshell: the human embodiment of a corporate compliance memo.

Back at Table Nineteen, a small hand tugged insistently on my sleeve.

“Can you draw a dragon eating a truck?” Leo asked, his eyes wide with the kind of violent joy that only five-year-olds can access so completely.

“Absolutely,” I continue reading …