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The Art of Scandal(61)

Author:Regina Black

Nathan sat down but kept the food in his lap. “I have a question for you first.”

“Fuck you, I’m hungry.”

“Thought you were busy.”

“Don’t make me call security.” He reached for the phone for dramatic effect.

Nathan laughed. “So they can what? Shake me down for fries?”

Joe grunted and rocked back in his chair. “What’s the question.”

“What’s going on with you and Zara?”

Joe’s face fell. “Can I at least eat while I tell you?”

Nathan tossed Joe the bag and watched him pull out a tray of greasy fries. “You know they probably cook those in anim—”

“Shut up.” Joe dipped a fry into the sauce and closed his eyes as he took his first bite. “Do not ruin this for me.”

After a few more fries, Joe started talking. Zara was the one who had suggested separating, and Joe was half listening at the time, as always. To him, it wasn’t much different from their regular living arrangement. “With me at the office and her running around making movies, we barely saw each other. I thought she just wanted another condo, but she started seeing this other guy a few months later.” Joe sounded irritated, like his wife falling in love with someone else had screwed up his work calendar.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” Nathan said.

Finally, a streak of pain broke through Joe’s stoicism. “Yeah, it’s fucked. But I can’t change it.”

“Does Mom know you’re splitting up?”

“Do you see her twerking in the streets? No, she doesn’t know. And now she’s wrapped up in your art thing. It’s a good distraction.”

Nathan snatched a paperclip from his desk. He pried it apart while Joe finished his meal. “So, about that,” he said. “What makes you think I can do something this big without screwing it up?”

“I don’t know.” Joe rocked back in his chair. “I don’t have faith in much anymore. Maybe I need something to believe in. Even if it’s you and your blurry dragons.” He rolled his shoulder, as if he were trying to shake off the admission. Being raised by Beto made sentiment feel like a hazard.

“They’re not dragons.”

“Whatever. Get out of your head. Mom and Dad are proud. That art lady loves you. And Rachel Abbott does too, for some reason.” Joe narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you punked her husband?”

He should have known. Joe liked people to think he was constantly distracted, but he never missed anything that didn’t bore him. “He was being a jerk.”

“Right. But she’s also hot, so I understand the impulse to rescue.” Joe dug out another fry from the bag. “How did Abbott pull her anyway? He’s fucking stupid and his face looks like a potato.”

Nathan tried to sound bored with the conversation. “Are you interested in her or something?”

Joe snorted. “You mean am I a piece of shit? No. I don’t date married women. But I thought after she fought so hard for you, that you might have a crush.”

Nathan slumped lower and flattened his voice. “I just met her.”

Joe pointed at Nathan’s chest. “Sit up straight, man. Jesus. Your posture’s a power suit.”

Nathan didn’t respond with his usual “Okay, Dad.” That joke only worked when your real father wasn’t dying. Or when it didn’t feel vaguely true.

“Speaking of unlikely marriages, I could never figure out what Mom saw in Beto,” Nathan said. “He’s not exactly a good time.”

“Money.” Joe popped a tiny fry in his mouth and shook the bag, seeking more. “He was better looking back then too. More Diego Luna and less Gomez Addams.”

Nathan laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think it was only money. Mom’s not like that.”

“Not like what? Human?” Joe sighed. “They’re just people, Nate. You get that now, right?”

He thought he did. Or at least, he was starting to. It was getting more difficult to see Beto as an all-powerful malevolent force if he was being defeated by a few mutated cells. Joe had been saying for years that Nathan gave their father too much power over his life. Nathan used to think it was hypocritical, but now he realized that it was a warning. Joe had really been saying, Don’t be like me. I took these hits so you don’t have to.

Nathan sat up straighter in the chair. “Thank you. For believing in me.”

Joe cleared his throat and started shuffling papers on his desk. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “Now get out of here so I can get some work done.”

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