“I actually have a bone to pick with your wife,” Lyric said, and looked at Rachel. “When you introduced yourself, I didn’t realize. You’re Rachel Thomas. The collage artist who did the piece on sexuality and shame. Dr. Smith changed his thesis policies because of you.”
Joe looked up from his phone with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry. You did a collage about what?”
“Dr. Smith didn’t actually change the policy,” Rachel said quickly. Joe was eyeing her with more interest than he’d shown during his entire conversation with Matt. “Parts of the syllabus were vague, so he made them more specific.”
“More regressive, you mean,” Lyric said. “I don’t know how someone that uptight ended up teaching art. But I thought your work was real and important. No one talks about the way we police Black women’s bodies nearly enough.” She glanced at Matt, who opened his mouth as if to agree, but then shut it quickly. “I wish Sofia had asked you to step in earlier. Maybe we could have explored spectacle through a womanist lens.”
“You’re curating?” Matt asked.
Lyric looked back and forth between them. “Rachel’s taking over next week. I’m sorry, was I not supposed to—”
“It’s fine,” Rachel said. “We’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to tell him the good news. Sofia and Lyric have asked me to work with the featured artist on pieces for the gala.”
“Really?” Matt’s voice lifted with a saccharine enthusiasm that meant he was secretly seething. “How exciting! I didn’t realize Sofia was interested in feminist art.”
“Womanist,” Rachel corrected.
Lyric snapped her fingers, and said, “Womanist is to feminist…” She trailed off, smiling at someone behind them.
A familiar deep voice finished the quote. “As purple is to lavender.”
Rachel spun around and locked eyes with Nathan. He stared for a charged and volatile beat before he turned to Matt and said, “Alice Walker. You should look her up.”
The glass Rachel was holding slipped and shattered. Matt watched in stunned silence as she crouched quickly and reached for a broken piece.
“Don’t!” Nathan grabbed her hand and moved it away from the glass shards. “You could hurt yourself.”
His touch made her light-headed, and she tightened her grip without thinking. His thumb grazed her palm, and she yanked her hand away.
Sofia cleared her throat. “I think she’s been sufficiently rescued, Nathaniel.”
Matt stared at Nathan. “I’m sorry, are you the manager or something?”
“No, he’s just obnoxious,” Joe said with a laugh. “This is my little brother, Nathan.”
“Well of course,” Lyric said with an airy chuckle. “Look at the three of you. It’s so obvious you’re related.”
Rachel’s body went numb, like she’d been doused in ice, as all her foolish assumptions rushed back at once. She could still hear his dismissive laugh. Isn’t everybody?
She looked happy to see him at first. Later he would rewind that part over and over in his mind, how she’d squeezed his hand and pulled him into those dark eyes. A second longer and he would have ignored everyone in the room, maybe said something stupid like, “I miss you.”
But Matt’s voice brought them back to reality: him wearing his good little Vasquez uniform, and her with that big diamond ring that hid most of her finger. He wanted to pull her aside and explain that this wasn’t what it looked like. He was never hiding who he was. He was hiding from it. That he’d been doing it for so long, that it never felt like a lie until today.
“I forgot you had two sons.” Matt smiled brightly at Sofia. “I met Joe before, but—” He studied Nathan. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
Nathan couldn’t look at him. Instead, he focused on Rachel, trying to coax her into meeting his eyes so she could see that he was… what? Sorry? Hurt? That morning, he’d given up on ever speaking to her again. Now he was ready to walk out that door with her if she wanted.
“Nathan owns his own business,” Sofia said when it became clear to everyone that Nathan had no intention of responding. “It keeps him busy. We barely see him anymore.”
Matt whistled, and said “Impressive!” with raised eyebrows, like Sofia had revealed that Nathan had started SpaceX. “You’re pretty young for an entrepreneur. I would have guessed you were still in school. What are you, twenty-one, twenty-two?”