Page 54 of The Devil’s Feather

Rafael’s brows drew together. “Shame. What changed your path?”

“Money.” Dee waved at him with her fork. “I’m not trying to be a literal starving artist. No offense.”

He waved it away. “I have been there and do not recommend it.”

“I still paint for fun sometimes. Mostly figural.”

His eyes sharpened with interest. “Show me your work. I collect portraits.”

I wiggled happily. Dee’s paintings were full of energy. She deserved the recognition.

Deandra squinted at him. “Now you’re kissing ass, but I’ll allow it.” She pulled up her gallery on her phone and handed it to him.

Rafael examined the photos, swiping until something caught his attention. “You have talent. I will take this one.”

He turned the phone around. It was a jewel-toned portrait of me, staring down at my laptop, the light from it glowing on my face. I looked melancholy, yet determined. God, I’d forgotten all about that! I flushed and buried my nose in my coffee.

“I thought you might like that one. How about $200? It’s acrylic on a 16 by 20 canvas.” Deandra took her phone back.

“No.” Rafael raised a hand at her protest. “I will give you $700 and I am sending your name to some gallery owners I know. You should value your work more.” He sent the payment on his phone despite her resistance. “If money were no object, would you be a full-time artist?”

She tapped her braids as she thought. “No, I don’t think so. Healthcare is just as important to who I am now. I’d still want to work in medicine, maybe open my own low-income clinic.”

“Ah, an altruist.”

She pointed her fork at him. “What about you, Rich Bitch? What are you doing to help the community?”

Rafael smiled faintly. “I support creative work, especially among immigrants. Providing instruments for young musicians, donating to grants for the arts. I am always looking to hire new talent. The music industry is brutally exclusive for those not born into privilege; particularly with film.” His expression turned wistful. “AI may eventually steal those jobs as well, but we will always have the symphony.”

Dee gave him an impressed frown and a nod. If heart-shaped bubbles could actually float out of my eyes…

The server came back with a staggering amount of food, mostly for Rafael. He shrugged at the looks on our faces.

Waving her fork at him, Deandra said, “I’ve seen a lot of trash behavior from the men Elaine has dated, and she’s seen me get victimized by the Greater San Francisco Area Polycule. We’ve been through some shit together.” She folded her hands primly on the table. “Point being, if you ever raise a hand to my girl, you’ll regret it.”

“I know better than to cross a trauma nurse.” Rafael mirrored her posture, also folding his hands on the table. “I am glad Elaine has such good friends; that one idiot notwithstanding.”

“Annie’s a little socially awkward,” I protested, wringing my napkin, “but aren’t we all?”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Annie is biphobic and racist.”

“I know, and I’m not excusing that, but she’s trying to learn. You should have met her a couple of years ago. Not everybody knows how to act right out of the gate. I sure didn’t. I still don’t sometimes. Deandra put up with all kinds of stupid shit from me while I was figuring things out.”

“Whew, Lord,” Dee interjected. “Small town ‘Bama came in hot. We had a time there in the beginning.”

“Sorry,” I mouthed, and she shooed me. I continued, “I’m just trying to do the same for Annie. If we want people to change, we have to give them a chance to get there, right? Her ignorant comments don’t hurt me, so the least I can do is run interference with education. You don’t have to hang out with her, but she does feel bad for offending you.”

His face relaxed. “You are more patient than I am. But I hear you.”

Dee pursed her lips. “What about your friends, Music Man?”

“I lose myself in projects and rarely socialize like this. Not so good at maintaining friendships. Unless you count the café kids, I do not have many.”

“Café kids?” Deandra added more sugar to her second coffee.

“The baristas at Telve. They have adopted the grumpy, lonely old man who haunts their café and made it their mission in life to marry me off.”

She grinned. “That’s pretty cute.”