“I love the both of you,” Ian said as he joined their hug. “It should always be this way.”

Fire looked at Claire and raised his brows. They were more than Ian’s friends. They were mother and father and brother and sister, nurse, teacher, counselor—specialists in seeing and satisfying his needs.

Headlights lurched around the bend.

“Oh, fuck,” Ian said. “It’s Lewis.”

“The prick?” Claire asked with a chuckle.

“He’s too fake to be a prick. The man is a fucking dildo. Send him home, nuh Claire. Is your gallery.”

She made a funny face at Fire and rubbed Ian’s neck.

“So who’s Lewis?” Fire asked as the lights grew brighter.

“A collector,” Claire said through the crook of a smile. “He’s got some money. He’s my best client. He made his first million in college—exporting skin-fading to Nigeria. Then he made even more money on Wall Street doing whatever people do there. Then he left that a coupla years ago and started this company that does something with inner city housing … some nonprofit development thing … I don’t know. What I do know, and I guess what I really care about, is that he buys a lot of Ian’s work.” She turned to Ian. “So you better behave.”

Lewis pulled up in a black Range Rover. At first Fire thought he knew him, but soon realized his error. He looked like a model he’d seen in an ad for Duke hairdressing cream.

“Hey, guys,” Lewis called, “how are you?” His voice was warm and measured. Ian sucked his teeth. Claire said a bright hello. Fire nodded politely. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna put this in a lot.” The engine revved. The big wheels turned. The rear lights faded to black.

He was tall, Fire saw when he returned. And muscled. Very gymned. He could see it through his T-shirt, which was tight and ribbed like a condom. He had a really firm handshake, and had learned in a course, Fire guessed, that it was important to look people directly in the eye when being introduced.

“So what’s going on,” Lewis said, turning to Ian. “Is Sylvia here?”

“She gone to get some beer,” Ian replied. “She’s been gone a while though. Maybe she meet a man. Women like men, y’know. Trust me.”

“That was funny. But do you know what’s funnier? I didn’t bring my checkbook tonight.”

Claire giggled and Lewis laughed.

“Don’t patronize me.” Ian’s cigarette glowed like a nova.

“Why not?” Lewis said with a laugh. “I’m your biggest patron.”

Claire sensed a flare-up and motioned Ian to be quiet. Lewis chuckled and went inside. Ian spat the butt against a car.

“I don’t know wha Sylvia see in dat pussy.”

Claire rubbed his back. “Love is blind, Ian.”

“You see love when you see them?”

She glanced at Fire. “That’s not my business.”

Ian shrugged his shoulders and went inside.

Fire was curious now. “Why Ian don’t like him?”

“Who does Ian like? But in all fairness Lewis is an asshole. He’s very condescending. Sylvia and Ian have gotten tight, and I think Lewis feels threatened by that. And Ian doesn’t think that Sylvia should be with Lewis. He thinks she’s settling. But who cares?”