It was a long meal, a lot of courses. While the adults talked shop, or museum, or whatever it is they were going on about, Alice put on the bland smile she wore like a mask and did what she wanted behind it: thought her thoughts, watched her sister sending text messages under the table from the new iPhone Richard had bought her, marveled at how skilled her mom was at being a powerful man’s mate. Quite the geisha girl—geisha woman, whatever—her mom had turned out to be, so good at anticipating her man’s wants and needs. Richard never had to ask her for anything because she’d already given it to him, topped off his wine glass as soon as he drank from it, kept the wife occupied and amused so he could focus all his energies on the husband, even set him up to tell his best stories and jokes. Occasionally, Alice would tune in to the conversation. Just, you know, in case someone said something to her, asked her a question. (She didn’t want to be completely at sea.) This time when she tuned in it was to Richard, in mid-pitch:

“Of course, Jock, you can always go the safe route, give the commission to Carlo Gianelli. His work is excellent—classic, serene . . . unthreatening. But he’s done museum additions in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Manhattan, Miami, and, most recently, Dallas. All the museums are going to start to look to alike.”

“I agree,” said Mr. Pollard, a very small man and completely bald. “His style is a little subdued. But surely tranquility isn’t a bad thing in a place in which people are meant to view and appreciate great works of art. I’m not asking him to redesign Gillette Stadium, after all.”

“No, but the new wing is to be called the Modern Wing, yes?”

“Yes,” conceded Jock. “So?”

“So modern implies new and exciting, not staid and same old, same old. You want a space that reflects the content, is in harmony with it, a cohesive vision. And frankly you want a space in opposition to its surroundings. Boston is already fuddy-duddy enough. The city’s got to be sick of playing second-best to New York. What am I talking about? Second best? It’s barely in the running anymore.”

“Setting does affect response,” Maggie said, as if sensing Richard was going too far, offending his guest, wanting to steer him back on track. “When Richard and I saw the Modern Wing of the Art Institute of Chicago, it completely changed how I viewed the—”

“But you and Richard have never been to Chicago,” Alice said, the words slipping out of her mouth almost before she realized it.