Lewis arrived at Sylvia’s apartment with a prosecutorial demeanor. After a cursory greeting he sat on the couch and demanded the facts. Embarrassed, she did not tell him the entire truth.

“First of all,” he began, “I think what you’ve done is misguided, immature, treacherous, and … just plain dumb. If they find out, you’re outta there. And then what? After you’re fired, will it all have been worth it? Think about it.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand a few things, Sylvia. Like how you could risk your job at Umbra for an assignment on some guy nobody”—meaning him—“has ever heard of for Q&A.” He pronounced the magazine’s name as if it were Shit & Piss.

Sylvia weighed the idea of telling him that A. J. Heath was Fire. Maybe that would somehow help her to make sense to him. But she decided against it, although she didn’t think that he would have made the romantic connection. It just seemed too sleazy to masquerade so close to danger, cavalier, as if the interview were being done for a thrill.

“A. J. Heath, Lewis, is an award-winning writer,” she began. “A lot of people have heard of him. Also, with Q&A I can do the kinds of things I can’t do at Umbra. That’s what it’s all about.”

Lewis listened quietly as Sylvia outlined her frustration with Umbra. He was thoroughly disappointed. Didn’t she realize that white people didn’t play fair and that she was better off sticking with her own? Look at what happened to him. Chosen for an executive training program. Worked his heart out. Late nights. Early mornings. Lunch? Business only. Weekends without prompting. AVP came on time. VP right on target … But then no more. Others went ahead, but not him. And there were no overt signs of discrimination. No patronizing quips. Nothing he could put his finger on without turning it to dust like some relic that had existed since the beginning of time. And it wasn’t as if the ones who got ahead were slouches. They put in just as much as he did … but they got more out. He knew why. But he couldn’t prove it. He couldn’t produce any sort of evidence. Couldn’t patch together any idea that didn’t have a hole. And all it took was one hole for the idea to be invalidated. But he knew why. It took a while to know. But he knew … the way a woman knows when her man is sleeping with somebody else instead of working late. That’s why he abandoned corporate America for the safety of his own people.

“Sylvia,” he said, interrupting her so that he wouldn’t have to hear any more, “why didn’t you talk this over with me? I could’ve talked you out of this.”

She flung her hands in the air. “Don’t trivialize me, Lewis! See … I’m trying to show you how I feel about something that’s important to me … and … and you don’t even wanna hear it—”