Joe cleared his throat. Sofia ignored him and continued speaking, but he grunted again, louder and deeper. She turned to face him. “Do you have something else to say, Joseph?”
“I’m no art expert, but Nate’s been drawing his whole life.” He lifted his phone. “Better stuff than this. He’s got experience. All he needs is an opportunity.”
“There will be other opportunities,” Sofia said. “Something more appropriate. With mentorship.”
Joe’s support had infused him with confidence that his mother’s rebuke swiftly deflated. Sofia was right. While Lyric may like his art, she was also treating it like a gimmick. But it was still hard to hear his own mother put his insecurities into words. She didn’t trip over a goddamn one.
“I’ll be his mentor,” Rachel said. She kept her eyes on Sofia, like it was safer than looking at Nathan. “You asked for my help with the commission. I can guide him through the process. I’ve done it with other artists before.”
He thought about what she’d said that night, about how she’d walked away from the life she’d wanted. Was that why she was pushing this so hard? Maybe she thought working with him would make up for some of what she’d lost.
“Really, Rachel?” Matt gave her a patronizing look that made Nathan want to stuff that crooked tie in his mouth. “It’s been a while since your last internship. Maybe you should listen to what Sofia’s saying.”
Joe’s face turned to stone. He couldn’t stand bullies either.
Rachel kept her attention on Sofia. “If Lyric’s enthusiasm is a reflection of Nathan’s reputation in the art community, we’d be foolish not to take advantage.” She paused, and added, “The theme is spectacle. I would say revealing that your youngest son is a reclusive fan artist with a mainstream following would qualify, wouldn’t you?” Rachel aimed doe eyes at his mother, daring her to disagree. Sofia blinked rapidly, searching for a counterargument, but failed.
Nathan wasn’t even sure he wanted to be some marketing hook to sell more tickets. But it was hard to process anything beyond Rachel needs this. When he looked at his brother, Joe seemed hopeful again.
“I’ll do it.” Nathan saw Joe’s grin widen as he turned to look at Rachel. “If you’re willing to work with me.”
She finally met his gaze, and he saw the clash of hurt, anger, and stubbornness flicker into something warmer. Though maybe that was wishful thinking. “Of course,” she said with a breezy tone so strained, he could swear he heard a vein pop. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Great,” Matt said, smiling at Lyric. “Problem solved.” His eyes flicked briefly to Rachel. “This’ll be good for you. Give you a chance to use that expensive art degree on something other than decorating the bathroom.”
A tense silence followed as everyone struggled with how to ignore the comment. But Nathan caught Matt’s gaze. He was done with this asshole. “Don’t talk to her that way.”
Matt took a step back. “What?”
“I hate to be rude,” Rachel interrupted, with a tone that implied she didn’t hate it all that much, “but like everyone said, we don’t have much time to work on this.” Rachel nodded toward the exit. “Do you mind stepping out, so we can talk specifics?”
Nathan glared at Matt, who stared back with a newfound wariness. Lyric excused herself and mumbled something about being late for another event. Sofia offered to walk Lyric out. Joe studied everyone too long and too closely before his phone vibrated and pulled his attention away.
Nathan touched the small of Rachel’s back. “After you.”
The hallway was empty except for a woman in pale pink Chanel who gave Rachel a startled look before disappearing inside the restroom. Not good. Rachel probably looked like a wild animal caught in a net. She found an empty conference room and motioned for Nathan to follow her inside.
He had Sofia’s eyes. All that time she didn’t notice, but now she couldn’t unsee it. He and Joe had the same mouth and nose. “Would you say something, please?”
Nathan shrugged, like he was bored by the question. “I told you that my last name was Vasquez.”
“Oh, that is bullshit, and you know it.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I didn’t want to tell you about my family. I still wish you didn’t know. I knew it would change how you see me. It always does.”
“Of course it does!” She groaned. “I am such an idiot. Of course you aren’t no one. I mean, who buys a laundromat before they can legally buy a drink?”