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Silence broken and point scored, Natalia reached for her glass. “My deal?”
“Yeah, your deal.” Sam leaned forward. “Dropping all of this, who are you? What’s behind the Natalia facade?”
“Wow, Professor. Do you usually insult all your dates?”
Sam didn’t get distracted by Natalia’s admission that they were on a date. She’d bet the boat she bought during her mid-life crisis that Natalia had only made the concession to distract her. It wouldn’t work.
“You’re not insulted,” Sam said with unassailable confidence.
Natalia moistened her lips, an attempt to hide a smile, Sam was sure.
Sam let the silence grow, pretending it didn’t unnerve her. She waited until they’d ordered and drank a third of their wine before she pressed Natalia again. “Be real. Just for a second.”
Looking at her over the rim of her glass, Natalia was the embodiment of sultry intrigue. But Sam didn’t call her out on using her allure to steal Sam’s focus.
“Real like what, Dr. Reyes?” Her words were a dagger wrapped in silk and traveled over Sam’s skin like a kiss on her pulse point.
“Why did you become a talent agent? The truth this time.”
Natalia studied Sam, looking at her like she could read every thought Sam had ever had. Like she was peering into her past, present, and future for the slightest hint of bad intentions.
“Who was the first not-straight person you saw in media? Any kind of media.”
Sam leaned back, picking through her memories while the server brought their food. “I’m not sure. L.A. Law, maybe?”
“Mmm.” Natalia nodded like she’d been expecting the answer. “1991.” She rubbed her thumb along the stem of her glass. Sam’s clue that she was keeping her voice even despite strong feelings. “The groundbreaking show that aired the first same-sex kiss on prime-time TV.”
Like she was being taken back to school, Sam focused on Natalia’s response. She was a natural storyteller, drawing her in with nothing but tone and pauses.
“The kiss between CJ and Abby was a huge deal for the queer community. A beacon of representation.” Cynicism snaked into her tone. “I mean, we had so little then. Who wouldn’t have celebrated the event as a watershed?”
Sam knitted her eyebrows together. She’d never known anyone who said so much between the lines, like Natalia did. It was like she’d made the indirect in-between her home, forcing people to pay attention or miss it. Miss her. The real her.
“And the network execs were paying attention.” She sipped her wine when Sam was sure she wanted to bare her teeth. “The show kicked off the trend of showcasing gay characters. Lesbians in particular, right?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Sam tried to recall anything else about the show. It was so long ago.
“Show after show went on to have such similar scenes.” She put her glass down when Sam knew she wanted to slam it. “A kiss between two attractive, femme-presenting women makes everyone happy, doesn’t it?”
A world of judgment was packed into Natalia’s framing of the event. It was obviously something she’d thought about for years.
“Incredibly, after this out of nowhere kiss that almost always happened during sweeps, one woman goes back to men and the other one walks off into a parking lot, never to be seen again. A stunning mixed bag of visibility and cliché. What choice did we have but to take it? It was better than the nothing we had before, right? Because what are we if not sexy and arousing? The same people who vote against our basic human rights are the first ones to tune in to get turned on.”
Sam nodded. “We take our publicity stunts with a thank you, sir, may I have another.”
Natalia tipped her head forward in agreement. “Visibility matters. Seeing people like you in media, being represented as complex humans instead of stereotypes... it has an impact. Especially when you’re young, scared, still figuring yourself out. When the only messages you’re getting are that you’re broken and wrong. When the only people you have in your corner are characters in movies and television. If my work makes a single gay or trans kid out there feel less alone, less like a defective piece in the puzzle, then every door I’ve busted down and ceiling I’ve shattered… every nasty thing ever said about me… worth it.” Her dark eyes grew distant, gaze turned inward. In the space of a blink, she told Samantha so much about her coming out experience. How she saw herself then and why her work was so important. “Is that real enough for you, Professor?”
Sam sat in stunned silence, forming an ever-deeper appreciation for the lifeline fictional representation could provide. Reaching across the table, she laid her hand over Natalia’s.
Natalia tensed briefly at the contact before relaxing, allowing the gentle touch for a fraction of a second and then pulling away. Her eyes fixed on Sam and warning her that there was a wrong step.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly. “And you are absolutely changing lives. Roxxxy alone is a hell of a legacy. I lost my shit when Jill Sobule sang about kissing a girl. I couldn’t even fathom that kind of representation when?—“
“Flattery will not?—”
“I’m not flattering you.” Sam wouldn’t let her squirm away. “I’m telling you the truth. And I see my work the same way. If I can leave this planet just a little better for the next queer generation, it’ll mean everything to me.”
Natalia’s expression softened, lips parting and body leaning forward. Sam held her breath, and then a presence at their table snagged her attention.
