That was the extent of our interaction.

New Year’s Eve came and went. I spent it at a small gathering hosted by the museum’s chief curator, Dr. Patricia Okoy. Patricia’s parties were legendary in the DC museum world. Intimate, intellectual, full of fascinating conversations with scholars, artists, and cultural leaders.

I had far more interesting conversations there than I would have had at Derek’s political networking event.

On January 3rd, Jennifer came into my office with a peculiar expression.

“Dr. Mitchell, I just got a call from Congresswoman Chen’s office. They want to schedule a tour of the museum before the summit reception.”

“That’s fine. Coordinate with the protocol office.”

“They want a private tour with you personally leading it.”

I looked up.

“Me specifically?”

“Her chief of staff said the congresswoman wants to understand the museum’s operations at the highest level. She’s very interested in museum leadership and cultural policy.” Jennifer paused. “They requested January 13th at 10:00 a.m., the day before the summit.”

“Confirm it,” I said.

Jennifer hesitated. “Should I mention to her office that you’re related to her fiancé?”

“No,” I said. “If it’s relevant, I’m sure it will come up.”

The next ten days were consumed with summit preparations.

Fifty museum directors meant fifty different egos, priorities, and expectations. The Louvre director wanted assurances about security. The British Museum director wanted a private meeting with the secretary. The director from the National Museum of China needed specific dietary accommodations for her entire delegation.

I coordinated it all, supported by my exceptional staff.

This was what I was good at: the complex logistics of cultural diplomacy, the delicate balance of honoring tradition while pushing innovation, the careful politics of the international museum world.

On January 10th, Derek called.

“Hey, Sarah. Listen, Rebecca mentioned she’s doing some tour at your museum next week.”

“Yes. January 13th.”

“Right. So, the thing is, she doesn’t know you work there. I mean, she knows you work at a museum, but she thinks you’re like a coordinator or something in the gift shop, maybe.”

I said nothing.

“Sarah?”

“I’m here.”

“I just don’t want it to be weird. Maybe you could just not mention that we’re related. She’s nervous about this summit thing, meeting all these international VIPs. I don’t want her to feel awkward if she runs into you.”

“Runs into me,” I repeated.

“You know what I mean. Just keep it professional. Don’t make it about family stuff.”

“Derek, do you actually know what I do at the museum?”

“You work there. Museum stuff. Look, I got to go. Just don’t make things weird, okay?”

He hung up.