“I also assumed you were not here for the archive appointment.”
“Yes.”
“I should have asked.”
“Yes.”
Blair’s face reddened.
Monica waited.
The young woman continued.
“And I think…”
She stopped.
Monica said nothing.
“I think I read how you were dressed.”
There.
Blair looked embarrassed.
“And maybe…”
She swallowed.
“Race.”
Monica’s expression remained still.
Blair continued quickly.
“I don't mean consciously.”
Monica almost smiled.
“Bias rarely sends a calendar invitation.”
Blair looked down.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I'm trying to.”
Better.
Monica glanced toward the display.
“What did you think when I touched the bag?”
Blair answered reluctantly.
“That you might damage it.”
“Why me?”
Silence.
Blair looked toward the floor.
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do.”
The young woman’s eyes filled.
“I thought you were browsing.”
Monica waited.
Blair continued.
“Not buying.”
“Those are different things.”
“Yes.”
“Neither answers.”
Blair nodded.
“I thought…”
She exhaled.
“That you might not understand how expensive it was.”
There.
Monica looked toward the brown handbag.
“How expensive?”
Blair frowned.
“It isn't for sale.”
“Exactly.”
Blair understood.
Price had been imaginary.
A social category, not a transaction.
Monica continued.
“If I had been wearing a wool coat and carrying one of your bags?”
“I probably would have approached differently.”
“Then that is the work.”
Blair nodded.
“Yes.”
Monica did not say:
It’s okay.
It was not.
She also did not say:
You are racist.
The single adjective would have let both of them stop examining behavior too soon.
Instead she said:
“The next woman may not know an archive number.”
“That cannot be the requirement for you to believe she belongs in the room.”
Blair’s eyes filled.
“I understand.”
“You understand the sentence.”
Monica corrected.
“Behavior comes later.”
Then she left.
No purchase.
No triumphant bag carried through the doors.
That would have ruined the point.
Outside, Manhattan continued without noticing.
Taxis.
Delivery bikes.
Construction noise.
Tourists.
A man yelling into a phone.
Monica stood on the sidewalk for a moment.
Then called Andre.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Did they give you money?”
Monica laughed.
“Hello to you too.”
“That means yes.”
“Forty-one eight proposed.”
Silence.
“That is oddly specific.”
“Payroll.”
“Mom would hate this.”
“I know.”
“Are you taking it?”
“I don't know.”
Andre sighed.
“Monica.”
“What?”
“Take the money.”
She laughed.