The Dinner Novels & Stories

Caleb POV Dinner was held in the dining room of Teddy’s estate. It was the same stone walls bathed in light with plush furnishings. All of us had freshened up for dinner as Teddy had servers pour us wine. Candles flickered in their candelabras that were scattered throughout the table. Mila had joined us but about from hanging on Teddy’s arm and giving us a polite smile, she didn’t say a word.

Not only is she my best friend, she's my sister. Finally Will, Sasha, Jessica, Jackson and Jonelle show up just before six. Once everyone has arrived we eat dinner. We've started having these dinners once a month and alternate who's house the dinner is at. Next month it's at Will and Sasha's as Jason and I settle Daniell, Noelle and Nicolle in their highchairs and give them their dinners before we get our own.

He reached for it and opened it. A card. Draped in colors of black and wine-red. Then letters that flew across it. "Dinner at my Penthouse. Under the soft night sky" - D. "Dinner has never been so exciting" Lucien muttered into the dim room as he rested into his seat.

"We'll get through this, together." After being shown to our rooms, we returned to a designated dining hall for dinner. The atmosphere was more formal. The room was well-lit, and conversations were held in hushed tones, signaling the significance of the gathering. I took my place next to Orion, and my brothers, Xavier and Xander, sat at the other end of the table. The distance between us emphasized the formal

Calvin said She turned towards him ready to chop his head off if she had a chainsaw at her disposal but Calvin was quick to correct himself in the form of an escape. “That conniving little fox,” Amanda muttered before storming off to her room. "Dinner would be ready in ten minutes,” Mason shouted after her retreating form making Amanda pause in her tracks. “‘Dinner?“ She asked as she turned to look at him. “Yes, a meal that you often eat in the evening. An evening meal, if I may explain further." "I know the meaning of dinner, Mason,“ Amanda informed him. “So, what's the issue?“ He asked with a raised eyebrow.

I took a deep breath and tried to control myself. Every month the Paulsen, Hamilton , Knight and Oliver have a dinner party to mingle with each other and let the new generation also know each other. This was a tradition that our forefathers started and we need to follow them. And this time the dinner party is arranged at my house and i am definitely late for it.

The kind who gets cut and keeps moving. The farewell dinner was the following Saturday. Small. The brownstone's kitchen table set for five. Ezra. Me. Dominic. Naomi. And Sera in her high chair, contributing to the occasion by throwing peas at Dominic, who accepted them with the resigned dignity of a man who had negotiated federal plea agreements and was now being pelted by a baby.

The Monthly Dinner With Caleb driving us both back to our home pack, The Sagar Wolf Pack, we past the local town which consists of the usual hangout places for young people. “Shall we head out for dinner?” Caleb asks me. “I can’t tonight, it’s the monthly dinner with my Dad and Henri?” I groan pushing myself down further into the seat. “I’ll break you out early.” He smiles at me. “No Saskia?” “Oh she’ll be there, she can’t help herself and not be!”

“She didn’t even try to argue. Just sat there, blank. She knows it’s over.” Sarah nodded. “Good.” But even as the sun set on Katrina’s reign of chaos, another question lingered in the back of Sarah’s mind. What now? That evening, Damon invited everyone to dinner. Not at a restaurant. Not at a high-profile venue. At the penthouse. The long table was filled with warmth—chicken roast, pasta, salad, laughter. Lucas recounted a story about Damon crashing a golf cart in his early twenties. Lou nearly choked on wine when Sarah mentioned Damon trying to cook eggs once and setting off the fire alarm.

“I know this is last minute, but they want a private planning dinner tonight. Not a full event. Just close family, a small menu tasting, a look at the tablescape direction, talk through guest flow—” “Gracie.” “I know.” “This is not small.” “I know.” “How many people?” “Eleven.” I closed my eyes. Without being asked, Nina grabbed a sticky note. “Eleven people is called dinner,” I said. “A planning dinner is just how rich people make a meeting sound edible.” “I know. I’m sorry. But if Mama is eating while she talks, she sends fewer voice notes.” “Where?” There was a tiny pause.