George came over, unzipped the top of his wetsuit, and began toweling off his torso. “Morning,” he said, still panting a little.
“Did you catch any good waves?” Lucie made a concerted effort not to stare at the beads of water trickling down his abs.
“Nah.” George plopped himself down on the sand beside her.
“I guess compared with Bondi Beach the waves out here must be pretty pathetic.”
“Compared with just about anywhere. I needed a good swell, but beggars can’t be choosers.” George shrugged.
Lucie rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry our beach doesn’t meet your standards!”
“I never said that. You asked a question, I answered honestly.”
Ugh. Why did I overreact like that? Lucie kicked herself, as she tried to extend an olive branch. “I guess you must miss the beaches in California…”
“I didn’t actually surf much when I was up at Berkeley. No time. But I do miss the Sydney beaches, and the North Shore.”
“Oahu?”
“Yeah, we have a house there.”
“I remember your mom telling me. How often do you get back there?”
“These days about once a year if I’m lucky.”
“So why’d you move to New York in the first place? Surely you could have worked somewhere with better beaches.”
“I’ve always wanted to work with this firm. They’re committed to creating consciously designed, affordable, sustainable spaces for working-class communities. I know that’s something you might not understand.”
Lucie frowned. “Why would you say that? Because you think I only work with rich people?”
George gave a half smirk. “You said it, not me.”
“Look, many of my clients may be wealthy, but artists need to make a living. Most of the work I do is to connect collectors to young emerging artists who need all the support they can get. Especially female artists and minority artists—I’m on their side, I do everything I can to help boost their careers. I try to get their work placed with the most worthy, thoughtful collectors I know, so that hopefully their art will get the sort of notice it deserves.”
“Sorry if I misunderstood. Freddie might have given me the wrong impression at lunch the other day,” George offered contritely.
“Well, Freddie does a great job trivializing what I do. He’s such an armchair socialist. It’ll be interesting to see what he ends up doing with his life.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he benefits from all sorts of privileges I’ll never have.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s a man, for starters, and his genetic lottery numbers came in the day he was born. With his floppy Keanu Reeves hair and my dad’s features, most people don’t even realize he’s got a drop of Chinese blood in him. He’s grown up with all the privileges of being a male Churchill. This entire town caters to men like him. He’s a legacy at Princeton and he’s a shoo-in for any of the private men’s clubs he wants to join.”
“Are there still private clubs in New York that don’t allow women in?”
“You better believe it! You know, there’s an old exclusive men’s club that was finally forced to let women in. Do you know what they did? They sneakily changed the menu so that the dishes that appealed to women would be awful. They made all the salads, the fish, the chicken—all lighter fare—purposely disgusting, hoping it would turn off the ladies and discourage them from joining. They kept the steaks and the burgers good, for the guys.”
“Ha! That’s evil. Still, Freddie’s a good bloke. If he’s a member of all these old stuffy clubs, I think he’ll be a great advocate for change.”
“Of course he will. I adore my brother, but still, it’s not easy being related to that charmer. You know what happened once? We were in our elevator, coming home from the gym. I was in my workout clothes, holding a big paper sack with takeout. Some lady got into the elevator with us, obviously a visitor, and she smiled at me and asked, “Do you get good tips?”
George stared blankly at Lucie. “What did she mean?”
“Well, I had no clue either, but when Freddie started laughing hysterically, I finally figured it out. The lady thought I was delivering food. Like I was some Chinese delivery girl. That’s always the story with me, but no one would ever mistake Freddie for the help.”