Page 46 of The Art of Scandal

“Brought you lunch.”

“I don’t have time.” He stared at the bag. “Are those—”

“Fries from The Stand?” Nathan pulled out a tiny condiment container. “Yeah. Miguel sent extra sauce.”

Joe’s eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning. He really needed to eat something besides juiced grass and tofu.

“Give it to me,” Joe said.

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.”

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